the fine line of madness

Lue sat alone. She watched the dark street below through the window, but nothing moved. If she stopped blinking the world slowly moved out of focus till she only could see herself in the window’s reflection. She despised this image and yet she couldn’t move. A deep melancholia raged through her body without any plan or origin.

Her eyes started to burn, but she kept them wide open, as if this act of mild self-destruction might justify anything she felt. She stopped breathing and waited till every bit of her had vanished. Then she let go.

To travel the fine line of madness to the orgiastic feeling of lofty sadness is a privilege only for those who grow up knowing and not knowing poverty at the same time.

Lue turned around and left the room.

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