Lost in Thought-Gilbert and Zehar Darzi

G: I feel lost, like I’m in some sort of cave with no opening. I asked Zehar, but she didn’t know either. That is, where we are. We’ve lost our memories; that’s easy enough. We’re probably in some sort of dungeon or somethin’. We’ve been in here for what? 3 years?

Z: Little over two actually.

G: Yeah, we’ve been keeping track of all the days. We can’t see if it’s night or day, but Zehar found out somethin after a while.

Z: During night time, the atmosphere changes. It gets more… floofy kinda dreamy, you know? It feels like you’re in a dream, but well, not. That’s what it’s like at night. So we just count all the floofy moments.

G: Yeah! Though it may be inaccurate since we have no memory of anything before being in this dark dungeon cave. So who knows, could be longer, shorter. We have no idea! We have no way of telling. The reason we’ve been counting the days is because we have nothing better to do.

Z: Yeah… It’s really dark and boring.

G: Soooo boring. We can’t even sleep. Not that there’s a bed in here anyways. Sleep is boring too, so I don’t care too much.

Z: Hey Gil, who are we talking to anyways? It’s empty in here.

G: Don’t you feel it? Someone is listening to us. Might as well talk to them.

Z: Oh yeah, I feel it now too. I wonder who they are? Do they know us?

G: Let’s introduce ourselves just in case. My name is Gilbert Darzi. I’m twe--- fourteen now, I think. I have deep blue hair and light brown eyes. This is my Twin, Zehar Darzi.

Z: I have light blue hair and golden eyes. We’re from India. We like to… Gil, what do we like to do? It seems to be anything that entertains us at the time.

G: Yeah, we like things that are supposedly exciting, we find them fairly boring though.

Z: We tried cliff jumping once. It ended up being real boring.

G: Our favorite is rollercoasters, I think. At least for me, and we usually share the same interests

Z: Yeah, I really liked the rollercoasters too. Especially ones that go fast, throw you around, and go in loopdiloops. We also tried haunted houses; that was horrible!

G: Yeah! I’d much rather be the one scaring.

Z: Hey! Gil! We just remembered things before the cave.

G: Oh yeah! Hm, are these really our memories? Or were they fed to us. This is the first time someone listened to us in here, the first we remembered things.

Z: It does seem if-y. I feel they are real… but not real. Like we did those things, just not in real life. You understand?

G: Nnn… I understand, I think. Hey, what about me?

Z: Hm… actually, you have a similar feeling. Real, but not real. Me too.

G: Really?! Well okay then. What about the person listening?

Z: That person has the same feeling too. Are we dreaming or something? If we are, this is a really, really long dream.

G: Who knows, we’re stuck in here, that’s the problem. A really big problem. Hey! Zehar.

Z: What?

G: Can we die? I don’t think we can. Right?

Z: Yeah, I don’t think we can die either

G: When we get out, can we jump into a volcano? I want to see what it feels like to be consumed by all that burning hot magma, sounds exciting right?

Z: Sure, let’s do that.

Lost in Thought-Emil Harmaajavi

How useless, so very useless! I can’t get out… Why am I trapped in here? Locked in a cell of all things. I must be bad, so very bad. I’m a horrid monster to have been locked up so long. What did I do? Everything, my very existence causes pain to others. I only make others sad, I cause them trouble. No wonder I was locked in here. Why don’t they just kill me instead? No, that’d be too easy, they must punish me. Death would reward me, release me from my burden. I don’t want to be talking right now, but it’s quiet… so quiet, too quiet. The people who locked me in here they don’t feed me, are they starving me? Why am I not hungry then? It doesn’t matter… I just wish they’d let me die. It’s so dark in here, or at least I think so, my long bangs cover my eyes, basically cover my nose too. My hair is black right? Yeah I think so. It’s wavy and black. Were my bangs always this long? I don’t think my hair has grown any. So why did I grow my bangs so long? Did I not want to see, or was I hiding something? My eyes… what colour were they? Why can’t I remember…? My memory is faded… I’ve been in here for what… four… five years? I wouldn’t forget so much in that amount of time, especially something like eye colour. At least I remember my name, my horrid name. Everything about me is horrid. I don’t want to exist. Everyone hates me anyways, they should hate me, of course they hate me, I’m horrid. I remembered something. I used to get in trouble a lot, but I didn’t do anything… What am I saying, I must’ve done something bad, I’m bad. I’m glad I’m locked up, at least I’m not being hurt, or hurting others. I do nothing all day, wasting away my sorrowful existence… that’s how it should be. I wish they would’ve given me a pen and paper, something to draw or write on; mainly draw. I really enjoy drawing. I like writing poetry too though. They’re great ways to show emotion in other ways than your face or words, vocal words that is. I feel drained, numb. Like, the stages of depression: sad -> depression -> numb. It’s when you’re so depressed you just can’t feel anything anymore. That’s how I feel. I don’t know why. Is it because I’ve been locked up? Or was it before that…? I don’t know. It sorta feels like someone hooked a machine to me that drained all my energy and emotion. I wish someone would give it back. No. I probably feel like this for good reason. I should stay like this. If anyone can hear me, don’t feel sorry for me, I don’t deserve it. Forget about me, and if you already have, good. I’m not worth remembering anyways. Just continue living your happy lives without me, okay? Stay smiling, if you’re sad, please be happy. If you are happy, try to make others happy, since I only make people sad.

Lost in Thought-Daniel Terje

I’ve lived in a locked room for now… I don’t even know how long it’s been. I’ve given up on counting the days. I’m sure it’s been at least a few years. I don’t remember why I was put in here. I know it must’ve been for a good reason if I’ve been locked up for so long. It’s so dark. I can’t even see my hand in front of my face. I’ve forgotten what I look like. How tall am I? How long is my hair now? I haven’t eaten all this time, I wonder why I’m not hungry. I’m not tired either, how strange. I’m in this cell but I’m not chained or anything, but there is nothing to do in here, they many as well have chained me. All I do is sit around doing nothing. This really is no fun, I just want to enjoy myself, which is impossible in here. I tried to get out for the first few days or so, maybe weeks. There’s no way out. I wonder what I did wrong. I wonder where I am! Who put me in here in the first place? Feeling over my entire body, I learn, or remember, that I’m very thin, I have tall boots, cargo shorts, a long coat, but my shoulders are exposed. My hair on one side foes to about my shoulder and there’s a long braid. The other side is longer, my under arm or chest I’d say. My bangs are pretty long, I wonder if I could see even if it was light in here. I’m wearing glasses too. My skin is really soft. From what I remember, my eyes are green and my hair is white. Why is my hair white again? Am I an old man?! No, no I couldn’t be. I was 20 last I remember… so there’s no way I could be an old man. Maybe I’m just albino; yeah I’ll go with that. I want to get out of here. I want to actually see myself. I want to see other people. These words, they are my thoughts; I’m saying them out loud, really loud. I feel better when I talk aloud. I wonder if anyone can hear me. Can you hear me? …no? Yeah I didn’t think so. I’m all alone. I’m often talking, hearing my voice, hearing a voice in general, is the only thing that keeps me tied to reality. Is this reality? Or is this some painful dream? If this is a dream, I want to wake up I want to wake up now! I wish someone would listen to me right now. Maybe… it’s strange but, what if someone was listening but had no way to respond back. If that’s the case, hello. I wonder if they know who I am… probably not. I bet the person who locked me in here forgot about me as well. I’ve forgotten a lot. I vet someone wiped my memory or something. For some reason that doesn’t sound unreasonable. I don’t remember anything other than the fact my name is Daniel Rune Terje and I’m from Norway. I remember that I was 20 when I was locked away, and someone put me here. I don’t know anything else. If someone else remembered me and helped remind me who I am, then maybe I’d remember why I was locked in here and why I can’t get out. Will someone please tell me who I am?

Autobiography in 5 Short Chapters

I

 

I am young and in a new world

I come across a beautiful treasure

Stepping closer I go to pick it up

In my hands it shatters

I am depressed

 

 

II

I am older now and in the same world

Another beautiful treasure is there

Maybe if I pick it up this time it wont brake

I get close and it shatters

Again I am depressed

 

III

 

Older and wiser I am still in the same world

Yet another beautiful treasure

I want it so badly and can't help myself

I take two steps toward it and it shatters

Depression stays with me

 

IV

 

Still getting wiser with this same cruel world

A fourth beautiful treasure is before me

Once there was a time it was mine alone

I want it back, but I cannot get any closer now

For it will shatter if I do

I sit down and stare

Wondering if it'll ever be mine again

Depression stregthens and I cannot smile

 

V

 

This world has treated me wrongly

It stole my beautiful treasure

But I know now

That I will NEVER get it back

Black darkness swallows me up

Will I ever be happy again?

Invisibility Cloak

It was another average day at school. I walked through the front doors and it already became a world of hurt. Girls in a corner pointed and laughed, making the usual insults about the way I dress. Crowds smacked into me as if I were invisible, saying not a word of apology. I headed to the group I dare to call my "friends," sat down, and said hi. Their response was nothing different than any of the others they gave me, weird looks and a quick hello before they continued on with their own conversations. Most of the time I stay out of it and just listen, but that's only because every time I tried to put in some input, I was given more odd looks and they'd scamper away like cockroaches.

But as I said, it was just a normal day.

With school over, I headed home with a stack of homework that was so tall I couldn't lift my backpack, I had to drag it. Why do I procrastinate so much? The world may never know. At home I said hello to my mom, busily working away at the computer, also to my brother, who sat in front of the TV playing his video games. My sister was the only one that gave me a decent response, a five minute conversation. Yippe! It was time to work on my homework, crap. I came to a problem that I couldn't quite understand, English homework... So I asked my mom for help and she called me over to her desk. I came over next to her and she gets out maybe two words before she runs off to go do something. When she came back again I asked her for help, instead she talks to my sister then leaves again! The third time I asked she finally decides to help. With twenty minutes wasted, I get back to work.

My homework finished, I headed to my corner. I put on my headphones and listened to loud Japanese techno music and began drawing anime and pokemon. During that point of the day, I got to relax and not care about the fact that everyone ignored me on a daily basis or that I had no real friends. All that mattered was me, my art, and my music, and that was good enough for me.