The Barrier

There is a barrier here, somewhere, just. Only I can't quite grasp it. Just in front of me, shimmering out of touch the moment I draw closer. I can see through it of course. I know things. I can even want things. Only nothing happens. I'm completely unable to lift one finger.

So I just sit here, watching the scenery roll by. Things happening. Knowing what I'd like to demand. Of myself. Watching things inevitably, agonizingly crumple down. Watching my strings snapping one by one by one. Here on my island, drifting slowly free, the strings broken one by one by one. Hoping to slowly shrug off the whole world from my shoulders, drift apart from all my impossible demands.

As what's the point of demands, anyway, surronded by the barrier. Outside or inside, this way or that, no matter, they cannot reach through either way. There is nothing I can do. Except tear apart. Except cave in. Watch things not happen. Feel things become harder, more twisted, complicated. Deny the truth.

Because where is the truth anyway? I cannot see the barrier. So is it there? Each day I fail to find it, it grows an inch taller. How long ago did it already reach above my head? Way above my reach. The only way not to suffocate is to simply turn my back on it and pretend it's all fine here inside. No strings, no barriers, no nothing.