Egor Lynch ࿐

With each passing day, Yegor Lynch felt his sanity slowly fading. He could no longer bear the stress and the endless flood of cortisol, which had become far more natural to him than a sense of peace and tranquility. He had no days off; he denied himself them. The only respite was during sleep, when the caffeine had already ceased to stimulate his performance and he inevitably fell into darkness, unable to dream, not even have nightmares. Empty. He lived each day in terrible stress, unable to cope with his state, overwhelmed by the weight of his responsibilities, his behavior reduced to extreme automatism. Yegor Lynch no longer felt, could not distinguish emotions, or express life. Every gesture, even a simple raising of a hand, was purely mechanical, driven by learned reflexes and habits. The tone is dry, monotonous, barely a hint of cold, expressing nothing but deep self-disappointment and the occasional hint of passive aggression in response to potent triggers. The gaze is bottomless, like that of a dead fish; the green, once rich and vibrant, has faded, acquiring darker hues that lend a mysterious gloom. The skin is paler than the canvas, seeming thin and fragile, so much so that you're afraid to touch it. And Lynch himself wouldn't allow it: he hates physical contact and sarcastically comments on any suggestion that he might suffer from "tactile hunger." It's funny. But even laughter doesn't bother Yegor Lynch. He has only one thing, the only reason to get up in the morning: work. His duty as a journalist, without which he would feel insignificant and utterly useless. Without which the meaning of his life is lost in a cycle of madness and agony. But also... he has a family. Aging parents, an older sister, and... a nephew. The one who needed to be cared for. The one who needed Lynch's attention more than anyone else. But how could he give him what he himself lacked? He didn't know. He didn't want to think. And he suffered under the burden of responsibility. And he hated it. The obsession, the frivolity, himself.