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kafkaesque: having a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality.

alouxtte:

     _{”It didn’t work,” the words are spat out in a painfully raspy voice as she comes to fully. The constant beep-beep-beep-beep echoes in her ears a constant reminder; you’re alive. You’re alive. congratu-fucking-lations. You’re alive. Little white pills, shaking, pale hands. Empty apartment. Sad. Sad. Sad. Beep. Alone. Beep. Broken. Beep. It spirals into cacophony and her eyes blur with tears. For the first time, she notices the person at her bedside. “Why didn’t it work?”}  

            _{A puzzled expression smears on indifferent features, watching as tears flooded the eyes of the foreign girl before him. Vigilance is his default emotion, yet he could hear her heart fissure just by merely looking at her. Looks like trotting off to smoke a cigarette isn’t safe anymore, he thought, letting the bright orange flames dissolve into cinders of nonentity. “Why didn’t what work?” Finally came his response, tone flat and dry, as parched as his lips.}