by Rin Usami, Asa Yoneda
““On the way home, I sometimes noticed the people sitting on the train looking serene and carefree. I think it was because they were safe in the knowledge they were going somewhere. The relief of knowing they were moving forward, even though they weren't propelling themselves, gave them permission to feel safe being on their phones or dozing off. Waiting rooms, too. In a room where even the sunlight was cold, bundled up in your coat, just knowing there was something you were waiting for could bring a warm sense of relief. At home on your own couch, under a blanket soaked in your own odor and body heat, black anxiety built up for every moment you spent gaming or napping as the sun moved through the sky. Sometimes it was harder to be doing nothing than it was to do something.”
“On the way home, I sometimes noticed the people sitting on the train looking serene and carefree. I think it was because they were safe in the knowledge they were going somewhere. The relief of knowing they were moving forward, even though they weren't propelling themselves, gave them permission to feel safe being on their phones or dozing off. Waiting rooms, too. In a room where even the sunlight was cold, bundled up in your coat, just knowing there was something you were waiting for could bring a warm sense of relief. At home on your own couch, under a blanket soaked in your own odor and body heat, black anxiety built up for every moment you spent gaming or napping as the sun moved through the sky. Sometimes it was harder to be doing nothing than it was to do something.”
A 21-year-old writer tells the story of a teenager with a lot of issues (anoxeria, dyslexia among them), not really enjoying life. (…) I still felt...
