Anxiety & The Universe

Well, hello!

I haven't written here in quite a while, so I thought it'd be interesting to share a short story I've just written. It's one-part creative outlet and another-part self-commentary -- generally, interesting. Please be kind.

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Anxiety & The Universe

by Chantille Millena

There is darkness here and stillness, but when she wakes, there are stars.

Stars so colourful, so magnificent -- a vast sea as far as the eye can see and beyond. And she is among them. She hears it here, the pounding in her ears, but it's oh so faint. Dream of your star. Reach for your star. Her star -- her magical, twinkling ball of promise, waiting for her and her alone to find it. Happiness is here and together they sing and dance for hours on the constellations. With renewed excitement, she begins the journey. She cannot see it yet and she knows it will take some time but she has a pocketful of bright, shiny dreams to keep her company.

Go forward.

The way is long and time moves too slowly. After running blindly for what feels like an eternity, she stops on the nearest moon to catch her breath. Her path is lost and her dreams grow dim. Sadness is here, fingers intertwined with Anger. They stare her down with bitter cold eyes and extinguish her pocketful of dreams entirely. She hears it here too, the pounding in her ears, and it's oh so thunderous. Give up on your star. Your star is too bright for you. She tries to move on but their taunts are magnetic, and her run soon turns into a crawl so languid her feet might have been made of the darkest molasses.

Lie still.

And then she sees it -- her star, just a tiny dot on the horizon, miles away but within sight. She tears away and reaches for it. And then she sees everything in between -- light years of endless, eternal space and time -- and she's afraid. Fear is here and it erupts into flames that roar and cackle like monsters before her. You'll never reach your star. You don't deserve your star. She pulls her fragile hands close. She isn't certain if the fires are truly there or just in her mind but she's been hurt too many times before. She wants to push past it but the blistering pain still burns in her memory. And she can do nothing. Her pocketful of stardust dreams feed the flames, growing massive, more volatile, creating a wall that obscures and swallows her little star whole.

Turn back.

She runs backwards -- back away from the flames, back past the moon, back along the constellations, and back into the dark. Here she waits, and breathes, and listens. She is alone but she doesn't hear it here, the pounding in her ears. Only a faint and thunderous nothing. There is no star. There never was a star. She no longer runs, no longer fears, no longer dreams, she simply waits. She slowly curls up and lays to rest. Blanketed in an empty peace and quiet, she finds sleep.

There is darkness here and stillness, but when she wakes, there are stars.

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 So that's it, basically. This piece is very special to me, and bittersweet because I'm proud of the product but not of the mindset it was born from. I've made a video talking about it, which you can view here:

ALSO, I posted it on HitRECord (http://www.hitrecord.org/records/1678348) for those of you who are aware of and involved with the open collaborative production company. If not, I suggest you check it out.

Until next time,

See you on the flipside.

~ Chantille ~