Inhospitable Conditions For Life (Cosmic Extinction)

 I’m in a pit that I neither know how nor have the strength to crawl from,

Even in this “betterness” there is only apathy,

There is no happiness.

I miss boarding school - where there was this peaceful hopelessness,

Every day was my last and no suffering would be forever.

I do not want to die,

I want to live so badly it is agonizing to me;

I want to hang out my friends and not feel so guilty for feeling so miserable and wanting so badly to just be alone again,

To be able to sit in my own company without feeling so alone,

To not feel like a liar when I perform happiness for the people I should already be happy to be with,

For waking up each morning to not feel like divine punishment 

To do simple basic things at my own will

For things to feel like they have a point or a purpose again.

A thing I hate so much; how far happiness has become of late,

Misplaced the memories like my keys or my passport, or my phone, or my bank cards, or my socks, or that £10 I thought I put in my pocket, or all the other things that have just evaporated from my mind.

I could not describe here the sensation of happiness, how it felt;

how irrationally myopic my perception has become.

And yet I know they were, and I remember that even my happiest days I didn’t similarly forget the sadness,

The crippling certainty I would find myself here again,

Maybe I could not describe the exact sensation,

But here it seems the nothingness is infinite

While my happiness had limits - this distant immutable creeping force.

I don’t want to live this way,

I am not certain the things to do different

I am so tired,

Tired of this,

Tired of feeling this way,

It feels perhaps like the conclusion of drowning,

These past weeks, desperate flailing,

And here, it feels the water subsumes me,

I cannot find the effort in me to care,

To struggle,

Who is there left to ask? What is the point in living well? Eating healthy? Going out? Getting up? 

What can one do against the weight of the sea?

But then what?

Here I am.

I cannot breathe but still I cannot die.

The animal instinct of survival persists somehow in these inhospitable conditions 

This oceanic purgatorium.