Sorry for the long delay since my last posting, a mixture of school, tragedy, and lack of decent thoughts have left me pretty scaled back on my writing, but I'll try to at least add something once a month... This is a project that I don't want to have just die into obscurity. Anyways, here's my latest bit of writing, it's tiny, it's lacking in fiber, but it has imagination behind it.
It's Midnight, I have school in the morning, but it's a drug.
I haven't done it in a while, the rush, the feeling of wonder, the excitement
of that first hit, that first tap, that first plunge into the deep white ocean
that I had longed for since the world turned and life was questioned. It's like
nothing I have felt before, but it was more familiar to me than the sight of my
own face in the mirror. My mind exploding with whirling, twirling thoughts,
rushing through every empty crevice, soaring down my veins into my fingertips,
and my body was one with the universe. I didn't think about my grades, I didn't
think about how fat I was getting, how lonely I was, or even that my Dad was
dead. I just needed that hit, that surge, that glorious feeling of
accomplishment as I stabbed away, and then it erupted. I was slamming my brain
against my skull without moving, fireworks were exploding behind my eyes, and
the music was all silence to me now. Every key opened up a new world to me, a
new world to everyone, and I had the invitations. I wanted everyone here,
everyone to see that I for once in a good long while felt good, no I felt
GREAT! The adrenaline pumping through my veins was enough to make me keep
going, to make me push more and more, and the world began to fade to black. The
world wasn't what I needed, it wasn't what made me feel good, not with all the
stories of rapes, murder, shootings, terrorism, no, none of that compared to
the world I had created for myself. A world that had no need for sadness, no
need for worries, a world free of care, hunger, guilt, pain, sadness,
depression, anger, jealous, a world devoid of the toxic sewage that invaded our
souls with every new news report on some tragedy, and this world was open to
everyone, they just needed to take my hand and let me show them. Tonight, my
fingers trembled as I took my first hit in a long while, my body almost forgot
what it was like, but the warmth made me feel so much better. Woke me up, stood
me up, brushed off my clothes, and said "take me with you". The world
I made was nothing short of marvelous, a paradise, a utopia that would never
fall, a world that would be perfect for everyone, and then I saw it. Even as my
fingers continued to pump more and more into my veins, my brain filling the
voids, and the only sound in my ears is the clack, clack, clack of the
keyboard; I could see the hole in the world I had created. Gaping, gouging,
gushing with the blood of my paradise, one phrase tickled my tongue as it
exited my throat and sounded out into the air. "Too Perfect..."
Backspace, backspace, backspace, highlight, delete,
highlight, cut, paste, click, type, and the world began to brighten. The world
I had created, the world with the hole that I had created, the world with the
hole that I had created was closing up, and I could only cry as I began to
place disease in my sweet world. Trash piling up, grass dying, trees wavering,
flowers wilting, men crying, women sighing, and the world was at war, I had
created a world that was nothing to be proud of. My eyes ached, checking the
clock again, the world never stopped as I still felt the sweet beauty flowing
through my veins, even with the ugly stain that I had left on the paper before
me. It was a beautiful stain though, if you tilted your head just right, held
your tongue just right, curled your toes just right, held your breath, counted
to three, jumped on one foot, rubbed your belly with one hand, and patted your
head with the other. No, it wasn't beautiful, it couldn't be beautiful, how
could it be beautiful and yet still flawed? I kept this question in my mind,
sifting through the trash I had strewn on once golden roads now littered with
prostitutes and transients, and I could see it... It was dim, only a soft
twinkle under a million feet of death and grime, but it was there, that perfect
world was there, and it was waiting for something... It needed me, it needed a
reason, and without me, it was nothing more than a place.