It was nothing but a thought. Nothing but a flicker in my mind, like a light switch, flicked off before the bulb was given time to illuminate itself. Like a tiny seed kicked out of the dirt before it had the chance to stop it. It was nothing. Nothing at all.
I thanked them for the compliment and decided to forget about it.
That should’ve been the end of it.
But it seems as though the seed was more persistent than id thought. Than I hoped. The light bulb lit the room. What if they didnt mean it? but no…if they hadn’t meant it, why waste their breath? Of course they meant it. Of course they did.
That should’ve been the end of it.
But the seed had latched onto the lack of my mind, its roots infecting my thoughts, carrying deoxygenated blood through its veins, stealing the bright red counterpart my arteries carried. But it wasn’t unbearable. Nothing that needed changing. It could live in the back of my mind, growing among the billions of other thoughts. If it grew dangerous, it would only take a garden weeder to pluck it out. The light switch could be flicked off in an instant.
But weeds are not demanding, as other plants are. They do not refuse to grow if provided with too little space, or the wrong time of year, or if neglected. And as such the sapling spread, climbing along the vines of electrochemical reactions, infecting my perfect garden. The pulsing roots of red and blue overran the greenery that once was scattered along the floor. They didn’t mean it. No one ever means it. how could you ever think they meant it? And just as insults are so often disregarded, compliments became nothing but words. The lightbulb burst.
They began growing leaves, and dandelions sprouted from the once bare stems. This wasn’t so bad. What were people talking about, “unhealthy way of thinking?” Such beautiful flowers were flourishing in my head, surely their gardens would cower in shame at the sight of the canopy of leaves my thoughts grew. The electricity in the bulb sparked. the fire was so warm. I knew there was nothing wrong with the thoughts.
The foliage spread to my imagination, and aphantasia seemed to have defeated my mind’s eye, with no image ever seeming picturesque anymore. the fire grew and spread, burning through the sticks on the ground, leaving nothing but black and white snow-like ash behind it. What was the point imagining things that weren’t even true? Like thinking they meant what they said.
The flowers started to shrivel and their ligules ran away with the wind. The leaves wilted into grey-brown corpses, empty shells of what they once were. My garden - where did it go? My thoughts, why do they look so dead? Why is my mind so empty? So full…of nothing? Why is tinnitus the only tone being whispered in my ears?
I crawled through the forrest that was my brain, stiller than the sky at night. Where had the flowers gone? where was the flicker of light? I swore it could live forever…why am I alone now?