The signs were innocuous.
It was the fog that slithers through your thoughts and memories, choking one's wits.
It was the messy room; items scattered all over the place.
It was the dust that I watched day after day lingering in the ceiling's corner as I laid in bed at night.
It was the inability to walk 3 minutes to the ATM or to the grocery store.
It was stuck in a loop at a problem that could be solved in other ways.
It was rethinking small bits over and over again, as if it is an anchor for one's life; isolating you from reality.
It was the fatigue, that no amount of sleep or coffee could cure.
How ordinary, sadness looks. A stealer and muffler of life that could be.
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