The daggers in the mannequin’s chest

BEFORE, I’M LIKE A mannequin – I walk with no tiredness, my emotions are stiff, my sentiments are as hard as marble. My eyes are blunt; my heart feels no beating except the rhythmic pattern of breathing for the sake of existing. These are the days when people used to reckon me as a Superhuman…

Those days are gone, I presume. Yet, this has nothing to do with my bad experiences, which I wrote in my article “Vomiting”; it’s different.


I’m too tired to wake up in the morning, crying for a rationale I can’t explain. I’m too much filled with fear inside me that when I sleep at night, I wish I would never wake up because of the inexplicable pain I have the moment I open my eyes.

Hitherto, I can’t discern the cause of my emotional breakdown.

My friends who are BS Psychology students advised me to resolve this by knowing the cause; however, it’s the thing that appears to be a predicament.

Another friend of mine told me, “Maybe you’re in denial of something or you want something that you can hardly have?” (He asked it in a question form because he’s uncertain.)

I answered, “Ewan.”

I rarely know my self anymore. I feel very weak because of this depression. I wish I just never learned to feel.

Someone, please help this mannequin!

Now, the mannequin already has a heart. Each time his heart beats, he feels the pain like daggers sharp enough to kill....

04.30.09