what is the point? life just happens. there may be reasons, causes, but what’s the purpose, really?

when i look at the sky, my vision becomes blood-red, pulsing with a strange, wicked light. there’s something trapped in me, clawing my insides. it’s only growing bigger, bolder.

i am on the toilet seat. the plastic is cold as steel. the place reeks of rot. yet it feels like i’ve been here before. many times, on this very night. can i finally be rid of the evil within?

the ocean is frozen, the waves are sculpted ice. the sea is finally at rest. the wind has lost its bite. this is what i deserve. to be still, if for a moment, letting the cold work like a narcotic.

and…

i sense that familiar, malevolent presence beneath my wintry world. i haven’t expelled it, it’s still there, a burning fist of ruthless iron, transforming all around it. and eventually the ice begins to crack, and the waves stir from their sleep.

i’m on my hands and knees. oh god, i can’t breathe. i admit it. i’m defeated. vanquished. i give up world. i give up, all right? it’s just not worth it. none of it is!

i’m a clotted memory in an alzheimer’s-rotted mind. i’m bleeding out, losing it, i’m being forgotten, my existence shall soon be nil, null, non. there’s no beauty, only the blinding triumph of evil. oh god. i wish i had never known what it means to be. i wish i never had. so please, take this life, end it. i’m through. hear me? i’m THROUGH.

• notes from being food-poisoned during ramadan.