Independent+Study

It’s hard to come by warmth in the night in this empty bed. Nothing to hold on to but old memories that hold no hope. Pull the blankets closer and feel the coldness of the sheets when feet rearrange. The way the golden-orange light seeps in through the blinds bleeding against the walls of my bedroom in different patterns of arterial spray. The colorful LED lights blink and flash, and flash and blink, purring in a harmonic symphony of mechanical grunts. Thoughts begin to formulate giving birth to fears of things out of my control. I stare out, wondering if my life is real or just some prefabricated cardboard cutout that’s been mass produced and handed out to millions of other unfortunate individuals. Although this bed is so cold and empty when the sun reaches its tanned arms to the sky in the morning things always seem better. The nightmares of life have disappeared. And the warmth over takes me. Everything appears to be right and perfect, that is, until the night returns and with it doubts and fears. I used to have thoughts, real thoughts, dreams with substance not just the dry dribble that leaks from my mouth now. I’ve actually turned into one of the zombies in the movies I watch. Just wandering without direction looking for something to satisfy this inescapable hunger that lurks inside. Feed me with malice and top it off with a kiss. Nothing matters everything on this planet has been destroyed and I haven’t even been lucky enough to cause any of it, because like most creatures I also enjoy chaos. Project Mayhem would be perfect. Let’s disassemble this world brick by brick until there nothing left but dirt suffering from centuries of holding up the burdens of our holier-than-thou society. But this isn’t fight club I don’t know Tyler Durden and I’m not insane, well for the most part anyway. I’m just a normal kid living in a world that I want no part of. I’ve realized these past few days have felt like an eternity. Things don’t taste right colors, less vivid. Nothings right, something’s wrong. Now even the day brings me misery, I wish I could take some comfort in the warmth of the sun, bathe in the rays that beat against the cold glass of my bedroom. But my blinds are shut tight and the lights are off. No ones home. No answering the door. The longest trip I make is to the kitchen to look at the food that my stomachs to week to handle, or I walk to the bathroom to deal with the liquid piss that’s been dripping out my ass. Pepto cocktails, pink and creamy., I call them chalky chasers. My life has become chalky chasers with a side of hunger both for food and closure. Yesterday or maybe it was three days ago, I’ve lost track of time, everything has melted into one long unending day.