I Don't Know. | |
December 04, 2005 //_ 1:08 AM | |
There was that feeling again. It was gaining consciousness with every look he stole. He glared ahead at the computer screen. That once submerged but unmistakable fear came bleeding through his arms, his legs � his entire being. It was flooding him with the reassurance that he had lost. Something from the past was losing grip with him and he wasn�t there anymore He knew this too, but what could he have done? He wrote letters, remembered photographs, sent emails, called unanswered phone numbers � but where did that leave him now? Tears stringing themselves into webs across his face, as he abruptly got up from his chair and ran through the open doors entering the reality outside. He wanted to walk away from everything he had established here in his new home. Everything he thought would never leave his heart felt so absent now. The wind was breezing through him, but he might as well have been invisible, it passed through him as if nothing was there all along. The street lights were lighting his way up the street. The warm orange lights above made his tears all the more evident as he continued to walk, shoving his hands in his pockets. This was unordinary. This was repetitive. �I�m overreacting,� he kept shouting to himself. �I�m not forgotten, I�m still remembered. I promise you.� The dusk was streaming through the tops of the trees leaving giants through their shadows. In comparison to his friends, now miles away from contact, he was a no body. He wasn�t a talented artist � gifted with wondrous painting skills of depicting hidden meanings and incredible landscapes. He couldn�t take intriguing photographs and have them shown across the world in art exhibits. He didn�t understand music theory and couldn�t complete song structures and actually sound somewhat valid. He wasn�t persistent or patient enough to stick to anything. He had made a basis for himself as nothing. Layered foundations of incomplete tasks and unfulfilled desires where building him in directions he didn�t understand. College seemed too strenuous and still he had no idea what he would even study. He loved his friends for being so talented, yet despised them for making the realization of his own failures more apparent. The top of the hill seemed a hazy walk, with the settling cold deepening voids within his tears. He needed reassurance. The cell phone in his pocket came out of his pocket as he dialed. He pressed the phone to his ear; that questioning tone of waiting for an answer rang through his ears. Laughing from something on the other side, a voice managed to speak through, �Hello?� |
|