I was in the middle of a flood with everything being thrown around or floating to god knows where.
Chaos had left ripples and holes around me and everyone within the storm.
It felt as if this really was a drastic consequence for us neglecting Earth and leaving radioactive waste. I felt memories hit me; I felt realizations hit me.
It then felt so sudden when the truth about myself and who I really was hit me, even during such a flooding and strong storm that pierced throughout my whole body. My mind was still racing through all my past memories and realizations and my own feelings.
Just for the realization to hit me once again.
?
?
?
I was never called William Cameron Johnson.
I was never who I thought I was.
I was named Richard Lee Nixon at birth.
Whoever was my mother and father
They must had left me.
Left me without explanations or logical reasoning as to why they did
That was the last thing I thought of at that time.
I discovered my true self right before the flooding hit me.
Right on my side, the loud, grim sounds of people trying to get the attention of anyone who could help them just to get dead silence in return from the fogs, and the wind could be observed and heard.
My eyes burned. As if someone had hot irons pressed upon them. my eyes filled with dust that felt like the magma flows of volcanoes; everything nearby became a void of oblivion.
I saw nothing but destroyed vehicles, houses, and unconscious bodies, and the faint sounds of helicopters.
The water had dragged me even further from where I was once safe in
My throat and lungs were full of water.
I wanted to scream but couldn't. I had no nose or mouth to breathe through. I was losing my ability to see.
I was losing my ability to feel anything. I saw a shard of glass hit the bare skin of my thumb; it started bleeding right then and there, yet I felt no burns. I felt no stabbing pain, just nothing, even though my very eyes saw that glass shard pierce my skin.
This was it.
I assumed to myself
While looking at the last remnants of light left for my eyes to see
I accepted fate not because I knew it likely would be the end of me at this moment but because I wanted to die for so long but never had the courage to do it or tell anyone of my problems, because every time I did, I either got told to man up, got slapped, or got called a pussy for talking about my problems, even if my parents or someone else got mad and asked me, "What is your problem?"
It's almost as if they wanted me to talk about my problems, but at the same time
Gatekeep me from talking about my problems like I don't matter.
A guy once told me
"You never want to man up, do you?
All you ever do is cry about your problems.
You're just weak and an idiot; that's what you are.
You never try to hold back your emotions.
You show them like a pussy who can't handle a few bad days."
My own sister told me
"Why do you act like you have a hard life?
Have you ever considered your life if you were a woman?
Oh, you don't because you know you would be done for if you were living the life of the people who have had far harder lives than you have."
As if my own feelings
My own problems
My own hard days
We're just my own self-inflicted problem.
At this moment of gathering all my past memories, I guess I really was a pussy.
I smiled.
Knowing that at least I won't be anyone's headache any longer
I could only hear lullabies in my head.
And dreams I've had before when I was a child wanting to find my real purpose
Just for me to find no real purpose I had in life
I've grown cold; the only thing I wished was that someone would look my way and see my perspective.
They never do.
It then felt so sudden.
When a landslide of broken debris and cars hit me, then I felt the front of a truck hitting me in the head, then another thing hit me from below hard enough to send me floating up to the surface, but by this point I was almost completely unconscious, and I felt nothing.
Just emptiness
I saw nothing.
Just almost microscopic rays of light that were the last reminders that the sun was still there and a daisy floating near my burning eyes just for me to feel another person touching my body.
But they said nothing, and there was no breathing; they were more than likely dead.
Getting back to panic mode after those moments of flashbacks and moments of slight pain
I just carried the daisy with me while swimming past some people who were more than likely dead for minutes or hours.
The only thing I could hope to cling on to
Was a tree slightly breezing above the flood
There was nobody alive I could see with my own eyes.
I would then hear someone likely in their 30s just barely screaming out words that were getting muffled by the water.
I didn't want to save them at the moment.
Because I thought they were someone so familiar to me i thought maybe they were like everyone else. I noticed they weren't the person so familiar to me,
they saw my face
Yet they didn't start giving me dirty looks.
Maybe they weren't someone familiar to me,
Maybe they weren't like the others.
So i tried to do what was really the only viable option if I didn't want to feel worse.
I couldn't reach them with my hand, so I
Made sure my legs were tight onto something, and then luckily my teeth had clamped onto the person's shirt, and I lifted them up.
They felt heavy for someone their height, but I won't exactly shame them for it,
They looked at me smiling and thanked me but i just don't know how to process the fact they just thanked me.