Despair

Daisy Chen, Canyon Crest Academy, graduating in '26 February 15, 2023

Artwork by Daisy Chen, Canyon Crest Academy, '26

I am neither heaven nor hell, neither real nor fake, but simply a state of mind. I stand, like a crane over the glistening surface of a pond, at the edge of consciousness, just before memories turn into dreams and dreams turn into nothing more than white smoke. Glistening like fools’ gold, my eyes are sparkly and smooth but hold no meaning, there are no pupils to weigh them down like sandbags to a road sign. Curved and slight, my teeth are the size of dinner plates with flushed red lips, which always hold a lazy smile. White and linen, my hands are like pieces of cloth, waving around in the wind like bed sheets hanging from a wire. I have no body, at least not a physical one. Drifting like the mist, I trail wisps of vapor behind like footsteps in the snow. I love to hide. Sneaking behind cupboards, crawling under your bed, and squatting behind the potted plants. Bashful and shy, I can disappear when you look too closely. I slide beneath the floorboards, my body barely visible above ground. I am watching you, letting you get too comfortable, making myself a normality in your home until you get too close and… ​ SNAP ​ I clench you with those white linen hands and drag you down. You struggle to get loose, not used to the pressure, and you thrash. I don’t blame you, it’s human instinct, it’s that bit of primal thought that survived evolution. Despite your self-consciousness, you’re still an animal, aren’t you? A lamentable vertebrate pretending you aren’t one with your made-up societies and rules. You strive for utopia and perfection but the moment one of you gets a power-hungry idea, the system crumbles; I watch as your people turn before me, praying to their real god. You try to pull upwards, your heart pumping blood into your systems and your breath speeding up. Your grip against the edges of the ground hardens. Humans work their entire lives to stay in shape, oblivious that it cannot outrun their due date, though they try with frenzied practices. You have scientists looking for immortality, don’t you? I pity them, they are searching for naught. The fountain of youth was made for those looking to evade me. You are slipping, I can feel it; your hands weaken and your arms weary. Still, you hover and endure. Your species survived because of that determination, you slaughtered cave lions and wore their teeth around your neck and you adorned their fur coats on your back. Your ostentatious self never changes. You love to show off. With your petty powdered coats and diamond studded necklaces, your species stay relentlessly the same. You fought off anything that came in your way, predators, the ocean, the tallest mountains, even the weather. You cut down trees and plant their dead bodies to make more buildings; more is better isn’t it? Even if that was a rhetorical question, it doesn’t matter. You’ll break soon and understand why all the rest of your kind fell before me. The last of your strength begins to ebb as you rediscover your childhood fear of heights. Yet, you are still hanging on the edge of humanity, feet dangling over the ruins of civilizations before you. It is hope that drives you, the glimpse of gold against obsidian that you clasp close. Hope for transformation. Hope for attainment. The last barrier. The last line of defense. The last blockade. Just to keep me from you before the final destruction. You humans invented self-consciousness to escape the grayness of isolation. You painted the walls of your temples because they made you feel superlative, you sailed the 7 seas and observed the tectonic plates because you wanted to see what was beyond the horizon and down underneath the terrain, you made weapons that could shoot a flying missile from vast expanse. You grew bored of being unmatched in the animal kingdom. To make life more thrilling, you turned on your own brethren, you flew to the moon and back, you mapped the stars and sent satellites to observe the universe to satiate your unending thirst of curiosity. However, you also invented me. You cannot outlast me. I am eternally patient, eternally powerful, and eternally impending. I am despair, and I was at your birth. I watched you grow up, playing with reality, twisting its thought like a coil, rolling it into a ball, and throwing it against the wall. You avoided responsibilities and accountability until you were baked to a corner. I am still watching you, eyes glinting and mouth agape. You’re in my domain now, and there is no exit. The walls are melting, the floor sinking, and you are drowning. You’ve sunk too deep; the battle is lost, the final blockade overrun and your grip fails you one last time. You slip and I watch as you plummet. The fall is unforgiving and your impact on the ground unsettling, as you close your eyes just before the wave of melancholy washes over. It’s peaceful here down at the bottom.