I'm overwhelmed by apathy. Is that even possible? It seems oxy-moronic, but I think I am. Alarms are going off all around me, although a whole lot less dramatically than it sounds.
You know when someone seems to be looking at you, but you can tell they're not really looking at you - they're almost looking through you? Maybe they're day dreaming, they're tired, or like the girls outside Hooker Harvey's on Jarvis and Gerrard, they're a little dead inside?
Have you ever felt yourself do that? You can feel yourself slip away?
Lately, I've been doing that a lot, in a rocking-yourself-to-sleep, banging-your-head-against-a-wall kind of way. Like a flickering lightbulb, I feel as though I am being warned. I think it is my dysfunctional way of dealing with unwanted stimuli, like the happiness of others, the sadness of others, my own existence, or lack thereof.
"The baby's kicking, do you wanna feel?"
"I was beside myself after the wedding make-up trial. It just felt like I was wearing a mask! What am I going to do? Do you think I should go to Stila and buy the colors I like and get them to do it again?"
"Sandra's going to be late. She's trying to buy maternity clothes and she's so big nothing fits, poor thing."
"I got into med school!"
"Why don't we go to Little Italy, have dinner, and then see a band?"
"They were really impressed with your work on the report."
I fear that soon I won't even notice it anymore. I'll become desensitized, no longer be able to heed the warning. My light will go out and I won't even know.
I fear this kind of death more than any other kind. I don't want to die like that.