Contrast

I woke up to a dark, messy room, unable to tell if it’s day or night. The only light my eyes were exposed to between my shifts in position was my phone, which must have been left unlocked because the screen showed the same article I started reading the afternoon before, before I fell asleep. My inactive body felt heavy, yet empty. I honestly couldn’t move; I had no drive to. I couldn’t tell if it was my body or my soul that was drained, but regardless, I had absolutely no energy to even keep my eyes open. I had gotten home after work the day before, dropped my things at the door, and went straight to bed without changing. I lost track of how long I stayed awake staring at blank space before I got up out of bed.

As I got up, I felt my sore muscles ache with every stretch. My eyes felt dry and heavy, almost as if they were gaping holes that never had a second to close. I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and I stopped to face myself in the mirror, disgusted, yet unfazed. I wasted an entire day doing absolutely nothing, but I had so much to do, and I was aware of it. This wasn’t the first time I let myself go like this, and I’m pretty sure it won’t be the last, but when I stepped into the kitchen, the first thing I noticed was the dirty, grimy stove top accompanied by a sink full of a pile of dirty dishes. If I was a stranger, I’d think at least five people lived in that house, but it was just me, and I had never felt so dysfunctional. Even after getting over 14 hours of sleep, my sluggish body had no give, as if it was internally swallowed by blank darkness.

I then noticed a thread of golden pink light peek through the ruffled edge of the blinds. I must have remembered there was an actual world outside of the four walls I was consumed in because I got the urge to open the door, even if only to feel fresh air on my face. The light flooded the room as the door opened, and its warmth followed. The air felt alive. It flowed from the trees to the grass, and into the door as if wanting to greet and explore every inch in its wake. The grass glistened from the morning dew, the incandescent colors of the sunrise reflecting back up toward the sky. The leaves hanging from the tree branches swayed in the wind, imitating the sounds of a running river, the birds bathing in the leaves and singing along with the whispers of the wind.

I was dumbfounded by how simple life is. I wondered why I had isolated myself from the world without actually stepping away from it. Even at home, you’re grasped by society. It made me wish I lived the life of a plant. You just stand there, absorbing the sun rays, removing toxins from the air and simply exhale, and you grow until you spread around and grow some more. Peace is everywhere. There is no noise, no conflict, no hatred, no sadness. Not at all like this life. In this life, you sit there and absorb what they tell you, you long for what they won’t give you, you’re always unsatisfied because you absorb and emit toxins during almost every waking minute of your life. To grow, you have to cut yourself small, and prosperity isn’t always guaranteed. To escape, you have to strip yourself of every unnatural aspect of your life and absorb the wind and sunlight.