Story: Feelingless

It’s not a writer’s block – it’s a state of “feelingless”.

Those days when he stared at the screen wondering why he once had a fountain of ideas, and suddenly it was dry as the Sahara. When he once felt deep love and immense sorrows, where life was once a wonderful dream of hopes and inspirations, and when he had believed that the future was something worth looking forward to.

All of a sudden, there was none of those.

And all of a sudden, there was nothing more to write.

When he could no longer feel, he could no longer write – and he longed to feel again. But after countless whiskeys and forgotten nights; after endless bleeding fists and broken ribs; after floods of tears and hoarse throats from silent screams — still, he felt nothing.

He was at his wits’ end, seeking help from nowhere, no-one. He didn’t know how to say it, who to say it to, and worse of it all, he didn’t even know how to write it once more.

Story: Do you know what sadness is?

“Do you know what sadness is?” she asked.
He couldn’t answer, no matter how hard he tried. A gush of air unforgivingly swelled in his chest, blocking out any sound he tried to make. It was almost painful to move, like he was suffocating in his own breath.

“It’s not describable, is it?” she asked again, oblivious to her companion.
He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t agree, yet he couldn’t disagree. He could feel his throat burning and his eyes puffed, and a sour taste turn on his nose. He feigned a little smile, but he was sure she wouldn’t have seen it.

“I guess we’ll never know,” she thought aloud, and turned to speak with her new-found lover.

And all of a sudden, the little pieces in his chest imploded, and the shrapnels stuck deep within his veins on every surface of his body. An uncomfortable tingle on his eyes and a frustrating trickle went down his throat. His fists were clenched, yet weak and numb. His toes gripped one another and his knees soft as a jiggle. He was raging with anger yet lifeless as a rag-doll. He was so close to tears and emotionless as the walls. He raised his hands to cover his face, but he could not feel the iciness of his skin.

Still, they would think he didn’t know what sadness was.