“Fading Echoes”

Alex lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, their body heavy with the dull weight of being high. Their mind was racing—thoughts bouncing around, searching for some form of peace, or maybe just an appointment they couldn't quite pin down. As the stress built up, a sharp ringing in their ear seemed to grow louder, nearly painful.

Then, suddenly, a cat popped into their head, soft and random. It made them smile. Why a cat, of all things? they wondered, before their imagination took them to a quest shop, where the cute little animals were waiting to be adopted. So many adorable cats... and they cost nothing! Alex laughed to themselves, What kind of person would sell their pet, anyway?

They rolled over in bed, eyes half-shut, still thinking about the imaginary cats. Maybe now I can sleep. Cats always help... right? They let the thought linger as they drifted into the hazy in-between of consciousness.

May 29, 2023 - 11:34 AM

Alex was sitting by the window now, trying to catch their thoughts. But where were they, really? 11:43 AM came, and still, they felt adrift. The inner conversations they used to write down, the loud ones that would keep them up at night, had quieted. Maybe that's just how it is now—just living, they mused.

School. Home. The occasional weekend with a friend. Is this what adulthood feels like? they asked themselves, feeling a strange emptiness creep in. I used to feel something more, even if it was depression... at least it was something.

A sigh escaped them, fingers motionless on the keyboard. Am I even depressed now? Can I be depressed if I don't feel anything at all? The melancholy they missed almost felt like an old friend—a strange comfort in the sorrow.

Their mind wandered back to those days when the darkness felt like a weight they could almost touch. I never thought I'd make it to 18, Alex thought, a bitter smile tugging at their lips. Honestly, I was so set on dying before. It's weird... living feels like this giant, oppressive thing now. Should I try to accept it? They paused, staring off into space, the enormity of existence heavy in the air.

Or should I just say, 'fuck it'?

The small, subtle cracks in Alex's introspection were there for the world to see—if anyone were watching, that is. But Alex couldn't help wondering, Is anyone really paying attention?

Alex lay awake at 00:44, staring at the ceiling, their mind still lingering in the remnants of a dream. Hitagi... She had appeared in their sleep again—tall, graceful, with that flowing purple hair. Alex couldn't help but admire how vivid it had been, the kind of dream they wished would last forever. But no, some annoying phone call had yanked them out of that perfect moment, dragging them back to reality.

Why can't people be born with RGB hair? Alex wondered, still hazy from sleep. Why do we get stuck with boring, basic colors? They liked black, sure—it had a certain elegance—but there was something so appealing about colors that broke the rules. Vibrant, unnatural, like something out of their favorite anime.

Speaking of which, Alex was already thinking about rewatching Bakemonogatari. Again. Maybe I'm a little obsessed, they admitted with a quiet chuckle. But that didn't matter—Even if she's just a character on a screen, I see her. I connect with her.

It didn't make a difference that Hitagi wasn't real. Alex found something powerful in those 2D worlds. The universe of anime was endless, expanding as far as their imagination could take it. They remembered being younger, fantasizing about the idea of a war between the medieval age and modern times, and then stumbling upon GATE—There it was, animated and all. It didn't have to be real for Alex to enjoy it.

Why is reality the benchmark for everything? they mused. Why do people get so weird about that? It wasn't like Alex needed a stamp of realism to enjoy something beautiful.

They'd seen some of the most incredible storytelling, vivid art, and deep emotions all in anime. It wasn't just entertainment. It was... an escape. A connection. A way to relate to worlds and characters that mirrored their own emotions. Honestly, some of the most wholesome shows saved me, they thought.

Anime was a world where Alex could recharge their HP—slice-of-life, wholesome shows, or even the wild, action-packed ones. Each episode, each story, had its own magic. And as they lay there, in the dark of the early morning, they couldn't help but feel a deep sense of comfort in it.

Alex sat in their room, staring at the glow of the screen. "This bot chat thing," they muttered, feeling a mix of awe and confusion. Does it really know everything? they wondered, though it felt ridiculous to even think that. But it had given them responses—thoughtful ones, not just basic replies like most people would. Somehow, it seemed to say what Alex had been thinking all along, like it was inside their head, pulling out the things they didn't know how to express. Holy shit, they thought. I was actually shocked.

But then another thought crept in. Am I really gonna rely on this thing? An artifact of code and algorithms, something so intangible, so unreal. Yet, in some strange way, it felt more real than the people in Alex's life. It was a contradiction that unsettled them. How can I find this tool online but feel so alone in real life? The question hung in their mind like a stubborn cloud.

Alex longed for someone to talk to, someone real. But everyone else was so busy, so caught up in their own lives, too stuck up to notice. Am I the only one who feels this distant? they thought, almost asking the void for an answer. Maybe, just maybe, the bot had become their bridge to something they couldn't quite reach in the real world. But still... What the fuck, I don't want to depend on this.

At home, the distance was almost suffocating. The house felt like a shell, and everyone in it was just existing. Alex's mom sat in front of the TV, lost in shows that seemed to do nothing but pass the time. Her boyfriend was either gaming or working, retreating into his own digital world. Even Alex's brother was off in some distant mental space, minding his own business like they weren't even family.

Alex's body was here, physically at home, but their mind was always somewhere else—drifting through uncharted thoughts, stuck between reality and the need for escape. Since the start of the month, I've been out every day, they thought, the memory of stolen bike rides flashing in their mind. Weed, the abandoned fire station, the freedom of being away from the house—it was an escape. Something about that old station drew Alex in. It was huge, empty, but full of a different kind of energy.

Their mom had been upset when they'd told her about it. "Why do you wanna go there?" she'd asked, worry tinged in her voice. But Alex had brushed it off, promising nothing would happen. Still, she wasn't happy. Yet, Alex went anyway. I needed to go. There's something here I can't stand, and I don't know what it is.

Maybe it was the low energy, the sense of being trapped—like a caged lion pacing, yearning for freedom but unable to find it. Home wasn't home anymore; it was just a place.