silence vs. chaos.

the sound of pouring wine washed away the perilous contemplations of my soul that evening. I held my glass of Mourvèdre in my left hand as i soberly walked to the fireplace and took a seat facing the flames. the chair creaked when i sat down, which was expected of antique things. i pulled the cigarette out of my pocket and stationed my ash tray and light upon small coffee table besides me. the fire was popping and crackling, drowning out every other noise while also making the room peacefully quiet. i lit my smoke and took a deep draw in, trying my damnedest to focus of each breath of smoke i trapped in my lungs, and the succeeding release of chemicals i exhales through my dry lips. i used to cough and hack at the first puff of smoke, but now i fear i'm accustomed to the damage. considering death will inevitably come steal each and every one of our last breaths, i'd rather spend my days drinking red wine and puffing on a fresh cigarette than swimming in those thoughts that drowned me like white rapids. my heart rate begun to lower as my mind experienced a numbing emptiness. the blood in my veins, now sickened with tar, slowed to a crawl. this feeling of complete misery yet peacefulness consumed me. i begun to fear that this is what death would feel like. that this state of mind numbing nothingness where you can't even hear the fire crackling or your lungs burning was how life was meant to feel; torturous. that happiness and love were illusory. as frightened as i am, compared to its chaotic polar, this vacancy felt refreshing. my eyelids fluttered emotionlessly, my lashes rested upon my skin as if they themselves fell asleep. i raised my glass to my lips and took one long sip of my Mourvèdre before tilting my feeble neck back and dozing off.

i have no idea low long i must have rested for, but it was enough for my cigarette to have burnt out and the fire to dim. i thoughtlessly raised my glass to my lips once more, and once i did my blood ran cold. the Mourvèdre was gone. not a single drop remained in my glass.

suddenly the fire began crackling again, but immensely louder despite the fire not growing in size. rather, it appeared to shrink even further, so small that i needed to strain my eyes to even see the sparks of golden sun searing divots into the worn logs. the noise became so intense and consuming i felt the pressure upon my ear drums. i flicked what was rest of my cigarette into the flames, and in a moment of confusion, i fumbled with my shaking hands and dropped my wine glass upon the wooden floor. the sound of shattering glass erupted and shook the house. i screamed. i screamed as loudly as possible and tucked my head into my hands, hoping and praying that it would alleviate the audial suffering i had succumbed to. the noises crescendoed until i heard three knocks at my door. the fire popping and glass shattering began to slow down, still swelling in my ears. however as the sounds of broken glass lessened, the mysterious knocking at the door increased.

first 3, then 5, then 11, repetitiously hanging with such ferocity i feared my entire door would collapse under the pressure. my breath sharpened as i stood up, balancing my weight on trembling knees. i waltzed down the hallway cautiously, a sense of fear washed over me more intensely than anything i've ever felt. indescribable and incomparable. the knocking became louder and louder until it seemed as if it was no longer knocks, but now a constant belting scream from some tortured being.

i was only an arms length from the door knob, but it felt like i was forcibly pressed against it. my hands trembled and shook so uncontrollable i feared i wouldn't muster the strength to grasp the door knob. i managed to wrap my fingers around it; it stung like ice. surprisingly, my mind was not racing, it was empty as could be. fear and anxiety had swept my control system, rendering my helpless to do anything but comply to the terrifying call of this screaming door. my ear drums felt as if they'd burst had i been made to suffer through this chaos any longer.

i turnt my wrist and peeled the door open from it's locked hinges. the chaos halted. i dropped to the floor, my feeble legs had finally snapped under my dead weight. i screamed myself, trying desperately to mimic the sound i had previously so painfully despised. the silence drowned my attempts. every inch of my body froze under the chilling weight of what was emptiness.

i would have tried to wage war in my mind to decipher which state was a greater threat to insanity, but i was too late; my mind was too vacant to fight. it was too vacant to do anything at all but rest.