She glances at the glass of water. It's out of reach. If she stretches a little, she could touch it. She could even hold it. And if she did, she'd quench her thirst.
But she's tired. There's no fight left in her. None. Not even enough to reach for the glass of water she so needs.
And she thinks to herself, I might even drop it when I hold it. So, what's the point in trying. I've tried before. I've done it before. I know how it's done. But it's a decision. To exert the effort or to give up.
And in giving up lies the beauty of numbness.
But she's tired. There's no fight left in her. None. Not even enough to reach for the glass of water she so needs.
And she thinks to herself, I might even drop it when I hold it. So, what's the point in trying. I've tried before. I've done it before. I know how it's done. But it's a decision. To exert the effort or to give up.
And in giving up lies the beauty of numbness.
