aesyslx

[aesyslx]

[aesyslx]

what do i do in june where do i put my faith

[aesyslx]

[aesyslx]

in the center of two desires lies god

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[aesyslx]

blow up

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[aesyslx]

[aesyslx]

ヽ(´▽｀)/

[aesyslx]

[aesyslx]

[aesyslx]

[aesyslx]

short story by me !!

The Tunnel

The tunnel stretched for miles, the lights too bright, the tiles too clean. The air eerily still. Footsteps echoed, sharp and sudden, contrasting against the heavy silence. It was always like this: the steady rhythm of the walk, the hum of the lights overhead.

There was no urgency, no destination. Morning came with ease, strong, and sure like it always had, but it never lasted long. Nothing did. One wrong step, another mistake. It was always the same. As she walked, her stomach clenched. It was all familiar. The ache inside never quieted and the footsteps kept moving despite it. The tunnel seemed endless, the clean, sleek tiles and buzzing lights a constant reminder of how far it stretched.

Often, there were others. A girl, maybe the same one always walking in the opposite direction. There was something about the way she moved, in the way she never stopped, the way her eyes flickered over then away.

“I need to make it to the end,” she’d say, her words thin but firm. Then, without waiting, she’d keep going.

She had tried once to keep up, but the girl was always ahead. Always faster. She couldn’t close the gap, no matter how fast her feet moved, no matter how heavy her steps felt, it was never enough. Sometime later, the girl passed again, repeating the same line she always had. But this time, there was no point in trying to follow.

“I need to make it to the end,” the girl would say again, her lips curled in unwavering determination. It wasn’t an invitation, rather a statement, something already decided. The words felt hollow. There was no point in chasing her anymore. No point in trying to match her pace.

The tunnel felt longer after that. The lights flickered in mockery. Her stomach twisted again, something sharp, but it wasn’t real. It didn’t matter. There was no time to stop and think. The rumble came quietly at first, a soft vibration through the floor. Then louder. The sound of a train. It wasn’t new. Like countless times before, she jumped and pressed against the wall. The motion automatic, ingrained in her as second nature. The train came rushing, shattering the silence with a deafening roar. She clung to the wall, her fingers dug into the smooth tiles, feeling the force of the train against her. The wind swept her hair into her face, pulled at her clothes, trying to tear her apart. She wasn’t sure how long she stood, eyes pressed shut, trembling against the cold tile, waiting for the train’s roar to fade. When it passed, there was no relief. Just silence.   

The ache was still there. The tunnel stretched on. The lights buzzed, and eventually, she would have to move, or else the time would pass anyway. The girl appeared again. Moving swiftly in the opposite direction, always with purpose. Her eyes flickered over briefly.

“I need to make it to the end.” And then she was gone, fading into the distance. No room for hesitation, no space for doubt.

Her words lingered, but she knew better than to follow. There was nothing left to follow. The hunger inside gnawed, but it wasn’t hunger. It wasn’t real. She continued to walk, even though she couldn’t remember why. Every step felt like it had been taken before. The train came again, distant at first, then louder, a rumble through the floor. Another force, another push, another moment to cling to the wall, eyes held shut as the train rushed past, threatening to take her along with it. When it finally passed, she was still there. Still walking. She pressed on. Each step felt like an effort, like going against her very nature. The ache grew louder, but it was never real, just a weight to carry. The girl passed again, moving effortlessly, always with purpose.

“I need to make it to the end.” But there was nothing new in her words. The gap between them only grew. The space felt smaller now, suffocating her as though the tunnel had never been this narrow. A burning sensation crept beneath her skin, something tight in her chest that wouldn’t go away. Her sleeves pulled at her arms, short against her skin, a constant reminder that nothing here ever fit, nothing ever changed. 

The tunnel shook. Another train. Another surge of wind. Another moment pressed against the tile. But when it passed, nothing had changed

And she kept walking.

[aesyslx]

blog 03.22.25

i need to get worse

[aesyslx]