Melancholy Described Using the Senses

2 minutes, timed.

I'm numb, all I can feel is a dull echo of motion, inertia and friction, and a heaviness that pulls the world around me into myself, bending light and air into a thick soup of gloom and muffled sounds, smelling like mildew and tasting like dust, as if I were a shade walking in catacombs on an alien world oppressively empty.