melancholia

i feel like there's a black cloud hanging over me. it's not very big but it's raining. i didn't even notice the droplets at first, but now i've put my umbrella up. why is it getting heavier? the cloud is still small and i am small but the rain is getting heavier. it's pelting now and there's a bitter wind screeching at me, incoherent demons. the rain is icy fire burning holes into what i thought was a strong, protective umbrella. water is plopping through and the empty sky is darkening by the second and i can't find my way. am i even moving? the umbrella has melted and i am defenseless now. rain is seeping into my brain, i am made of paper. i throw the metal frame of the umbrella on the puddle ridden ground and it has smashed to smithereens. i am stupid and i am looking down and in slow motion the metal fragments are shooting up, blinding me. i can feel myself falling.

i don't want that to be how i'm feeling and it probably is quite an exaggeration (i've felt worse than this before) but i feel like writing something. we're doing creative writing in english and we had to make up a 6 word story today. i did 4:

• brain is whirring. get me out.
• are you sure that you exist?
• gun is at my head. boom!
• and i felt my body fall.

they aren't even related. and i am yet to find a 6 word story better than ernest hemingway's, which we looked at at school today. i had seen it before and that time it brought tears to my eyes:

for sale: baby shoes, never worn