For the days when that "defiance" just doesn't happen. The days when, willfully or not, you self-indulgently retreat. Back turned to the world, eyes shut, body curled into itself: that isn't happening, nothing is happening, the world is going on, chugging away as always with busy busy and time ticking and hours passing but all of that has nothing to do with you - this dark corner, this little bit of space your only reality for a while.
For the days spent ignoring phone calls and leaving emails unanswered, the do-to-list forever expanding. For the days where not a single verbalized word passes your lips. For the days when leaving your little nook, even for the smallest thing, just seems far too overwhelming.
There's a skull-fish near you - a snack perhaps but no, a snack is never just a snack, always poisoned, always a danger. The little skull-fish, things lost, things intangible, the comfort that isn't really a comfort at all.
And there is you, self-aware despite everything. Eyes never completely covered because even when you are curled into your shadow you cannot help but LOOK, SEE, OBSERVE, ANALYZE AND ANNOTATE AND PONDER. And perhaps, even when you turn your back to the world, a part of you still craves for connection - not your little fish friend but real people. Peering out between darkened claw fingers: is there anyone nearby maybe? Can you trust them? Is it worth it? Could they hear you if you tried?
Behind you the factory goes on, smoke billowing out of stacks, work calling. Voices rumbling. Texts and calls and emails that must be answered eventually and of course your own bones will grow creaky, limbs numb from too long curled in that one position. You will have to do more than this eventually, soon.