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Every Midnight

I die every midnight, perhaps suicide is in itself a slow and arduous process.

Every midnight, I can hear the sound of misfortune flowing through my veins — the sound of blood is an uninterrupted song of lament.

Every midnight, the same invisible panic and anxiety grip my throat (for it is indescribable as it is the most lethal), pounding heavily on my heart. Reality touches me like a piercing scream penetrating my patched soul.

At the threshold of today's passing and tomorrow's arrival, I am at a loss. Taking a step forward is an unknown abyss, looking back is an inescapable nightmare, and the present is imperceptible due to extreme anxiety and uneasiness. For today, I am filled with guilt and a sense of failure because I have not made any progress; for tomorrow, I am filled with fear and anxiety because I will not make any progress either. I cannot imagine my future because I have no future. The Void cannot be imagined. And returning to the present, I am filled with despair and powerlessness, for I am still in the same place; nothing has changed.

I can only gaze into emptiness (as images refuse to be understood), compulsively repeating the question to myself, "What should I do?" over and over again, yet I have no answer, and no one else could have given me an answer. That questioning voice is sometimes in the form of haunting whispers from the depths of hell, and sometimes in the form of unbearable hysteria. Gradually, my brain is only left with this monotonous voice. I fall into delirium and madness.

The unbearably distinct sound of the clock tightens and stiffens my entire body. I widen my eyes, hold my breath, and listen in consternation. My thoughts gradually become blank, and my consciousness detaches from reality. It feels as if there is an invisible thread connecting the clock hand with my neck, and its length is becoming shorter and shorter with each tick.

In the silent midnight, everything falls into silence. The oppressive air presses in from all sides, suffocating my breath. I have the company of my parents and my cat, yet I am immersed in complete solitude. After all, I am in a realm that cannot be translated into intelligible words.

The boundless night holds no tranquility or serenity, nor sleep. Instead, there is only impenetrable silence and darkness. Feelings of depression, sadness, despair, helplessness, self-blame, guilt, anxiety, panic, and fear are infinitely exaggerated in the silent deep night, uncontrollably filling my brain that is no longer occupied with anything else. These feelings are like an invisible nightmare, spreading in the air, filling the entire room, and then engulfing me, forcing me to breathe in this intimidating nightmare. They are crushing my heart, demolishing me. All rational thoughts are squeezed into an isolated corner and then could no longer be seen or heard. I am pushed back into the deepest recesses of myself.

I want to speak, but I am blocked by those dense and heavy feelings. I cannot make a sound, nor find any words. Silence once again engulfs me. The anxiety and uneasiness are so unbearable, compelling me to escape from within myself, to escape from this brain, from my thoughts, but I am eternally imprisoned inside this body. Every night, I lie in the same open grave, with the weight of life pressing on my chest. Every breath is a heavy burden, a futile struggle. I cannot even comprehend my own anxiety and uneasiness, which teeter on the edge of delirium.

Every part of my mind is experiencing a dying. I feel myself becoming emptier and heavier. I am rejected by the time alive, and at the same time repulsed by the reality of death. My identity is fading away like a distant memory. The absolute absence of meaning. In the vast emptiness, the boundary between life and death blurs. I am experiencing something more dead than death.

2023/07/03

每一个午夜

我于每一个午夜死去，也许自杀本就是已被缓慢而艰辛的过程。

每一个午夜，我都能听见不幸在我血管里流淌的声音——血液的声音是不间断的悲歌。

每一个午夜，同一种无形的恐慌焦虑攥住我的咽喉（因其无法描述最为致命），沉重地敲击我的心脏。现实触及我，如同一声凄厉的尖叫穿透我皆是补丁的灵魂。

在今日将逝明日将至的门槛上我左顾右盼无所适从。向前一步是未知的深渊，向后回望是无法逃脱的梦魇，而“现在”因极度的恐慌与不安变得无法感知。对于今天，我感到愧疚与失败，因为我依旧没有进步；对于明天，我感到恐慌与焦虑，因为明天我也不会有进步。我无法想象我的未来，因为我没有未来，空无是无法被想象的。而回到现在，我感到绝望与无力，我还是在原地，什么都没有改变。

我只能凝视着虚空（因为图像拒斥理解），独自在原地强迫性地重复追问自己“我该怎么办”，一遍又一遍，一遍又一遍，然而我没有答案，也没有人能给我答案。那个追问声时而是来自地狱的幽幽絮语，时而是难以忍受的歇斯底里。渐渐地，我的大脑里就只剩下了这一个单调的声音。我陷入了谵妄与疯狂。

时钟上秒针异常清晰的声音令我全身紧绷，我瞪大双眼，屏息凝神地在听，在恐慌，思绪逐渐变得空白，意识在抽离。好像时针与我的脖子上连着一根看不见的线，长度正在变得越来越短。

在缄默的深夜，一切都陷入了沉寂，充满压迫性的空气从四周向我挤压，窒息感穿透我的呼吸。我身边有父母和小猫的陪伴，可我却陷入了完全的孤独。我本身就存在于一个无法被言说的国度。

黑夜无边无际，其间没有宁静与安详，更没有睡眠，取而代之的是无法穿透的静默与黑暗。低落、悲伤、沉郁、绝望、无助、自责、愧疚、焦虑、恐慌、惊惧等等的负面情感会在寂静的深夜里被不受控制地无限放大，而我不在专注于做其他任何事情的大脑会被这些情绪完全填满。它们像一个无形的梦魇，在空气中扩散，充斥整个房间，然后淹没了我，我被迫呼吸着这咄咄逼人的梦魇。它们正在碾碎我的心，正在摧毁我。一切理性的思想都被挤到了一个角落，然后就看不见也听不到了。我被击退到了自我的最深处。

我想开口说些什么，但是被稠密又滞重的情绪挡住了，我没能发出声音，也没能找到词语，沉默又一次淹没了我。焦虑和恐慌是如此难以忍受，逼迫我非得从自身中逃离不可，逃离这个大脑，逃离我的思想，可是我被这具躯壳锁住了。每晚，我都躺在同一个敞开的墓穴里，生命的重量压在我的胸口，每一次呼吸都是一种沉重的负担，一种徒劳的抗争。我甚至无法理解自己那游走在谵妄的边缘的焦虑与恐慌。

我思想的每一部分都在承受着一次临终。我感到自己正变得越来越空，也越来越重。我正被活着的时间拒斥，同时又被死亡的现实拒斥。我的身份正像一个遥远的记忆一样褪色消逝。意义的绝对缺席。在广袤无垠的空无中，生与死的边界消融了，我正在经历一种比死亡更死的东西。

2023/07/03

“Every Midnight”

“Every Midnight”

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