A Heap

"My eyelids are heavy. It's brully.. aww it's blully... I can't even roll my tongue! Ahh… it's all blurry and dark and grey, I think. I don't know what else I am feeling."

"What do you mean by dark or grey? You are in front of your computer screen and that's not even in dark theme. Are you all right?"

"Don't you see I'm working on something? How dare you ask me if I've lost my mind!"

"Oh Lord, I didn't ask that… let it go. Do you want a cup of coffee?"

"Why the heck would you act as if you care for me? And clearly you are not. I have lost count of the times I've said I won't have anything after my eating window is closed."

"Intermittent fasting is driving you crazy."

"You are jealous of me. Clearly, being known.
Damn! I can't even blink. My eyelids are heavy. What if my neck falls apart? This pain is calling death.
I totally feel each and every strand of my hair hurting my scalp. No—hurting my haid… I mean head… No, actually hair strands are hurting my skull and brain too. I knew headaches suck, but they are confusing too."

"I can't hear you if you keep murmuring. Better finish whatever you're doing—quick."

The door shuts.

"I might die tomorrow. Will I have the choice to decide? I wish.
Is the right brain hemisphere larger than the left? I don't know. But I could prove it by the extent of this deathly pain."

The door knocks two times—then a bit harder the third time. Then the person goes away; footsteps sound fade.

"I have no srength… oh my bad! I have got no strength to walk to the door. What if my neck falls apart? I want to live a little longer. I want everyone to look at me with awe—a fixed gaze—next month at the party. If I die midway, my fasting and sugar-cut go to waste."

It started raining outside. The window curtains sway in the breeze.

"What might have entered my head? A life-sucking bug? No, it would have been crawling inside—not a bug. Oh no! Did one of the wireless earbuds squeeze inside my head through my ear? Not one—both of them got inside? One deeper and the other still might be entering? No—my brain would sense sound vibrations. What might it be? Ahhh… Did I just eat that whole apple doing a headstand? So it got into my head? No—I don't know how to do a headstand. Lord, now I know what has entered my head. The two 'O's from 'GOOGLE.' Yes, I don't see them—instead there are tiny pictures in place of the 'O's. But, but… how did they even travel so far out of the screen and enter my head? Hmm… I am wrong again. Hey, now I know for sure! It's the teddy's pair of big plastic eyes in my head. Last night when I slept beside my teddy, they fell off and stuck in my head. And they are causing agonizing pain. And now I believe it's all these things together that have gone into my head. However, it has started raining—shall I slowly walk into the rain? Chances are high for a thunderstorm. Heavy rain would definitely wash all this stuff off my head! This sounds like a plan.
..

Urghhhh!
My head might burst now! Let me hold it tight.
...

This wasn’t what I expected. Suddenly, I threw up without even realizing it. I was searching for a bug, earbuds, an apple, toy eyes—whatever nonsense I imagined. But all I see instead is a heap: stress, self-doubt, useless advice from people, evil eyes, endless choices, overthinking, over-complication of things, negative talk... Ahh! Yuck! Who would ever want to dig into that filthy pile?
This heap doesn’t just sit outside me; it sneaks into my breath, into my sleep, into the way I look at myself in the mirror. It weighs me down more than any bug or apple or plastic eye could ever do. But now, now I feel lighter, as if my ribs can finally stretch wide. As light as a butterfly, I am going to quickly dump this heap out of my home, out of my mind. I don’t want it hiding in corners, waiting to crawl back. I want it gone—far, far away. I wish it could vanish not just from me, but out of this whole horizon."