Darkness Inside

Crawl inside the darkness of my mind. Searching to find a spark of light, to make things a little clearer. Fumbling around, taking hold of something. Feeling it all over, trying to define what it is. Wondering which strings to tie, and which will unravel the last bits of sanity within. Chaos and confusion reign. Without light to sort through the stacks. The proper places for everything remains a guessing game. Trying to fit pieces back together, make it all as whole as possible. Knowing it won’t remain, something else will come and make a mess of it all again.

Habit

It is kind of funny how things you once treasured so dearly become just another thing. How activities you once could not get enough of barely hold your interest. Passion becomes habit and you start to wonder how much you wish to hold onto something that is only habit. Yet you still recall loving it, and wonder if you will regret anything later should you give up and abandon it. You press on, on a good day still deriving some good feeling from the thing. On a bad day it leaves you dry, wondering why you still continue with it.

Abyss

There are some things I understand, and some I just don’t. It can be a strange endeavor trying to logically get your head around something you don’t understand. Especially when that thing you don’t understand, is your own mind. Sometimes it’s a little like standing at the edge of an abyss. There is just no possible way to make any logical sense of the endless darkness. So you either stand and stare at it until it drives you crazy, or turn away from it, attempt to ignore it. Which way is better? I’ve tried both, and I’m really not sure.

Fate's Mind Fuck

Fate is just mind fucking me. I’m beginning to sense a pattern to my life. Just when I resolve to be content with my life as it is, I get tossed a bone. Thinking something will change, something to be happy with it. Only to find that fate has viciously yanked it back. I’m left sitting wondering what I did wrong. Maybe it’s just fate slapping me in the face, reminding me I’m a stupid girl, to stop hoping for more. The tossed bones being the test to see if I will try. It’s just fate’s twisted little mind fuck.

Nature of Destruction

Flash. A bolt of lighting streaks through the sky. It is chased by the booming roll of thunder. The sky is dark again for a moment, clouds so grey they almost fade to black. Water pours from the sky. A rain so hard it seems the whole land might be washed away. Relentless wind kicks through the streets. Trees lean, struggling desperately to stay standing. Another strike of lighting and a tree snaps and flames erupt. It is raw nature. The elements of nature. Part ultimate battle of nature for which element is most powerful, part beautiful symphony of chaos.

Dreaming of Spring

The feel of the warm sun hitting my arms. A light breeze keeps it from feeling too hot. I sit, and close my eyes behind my sunglasses and tilt my head toward the sun. There is something relaxing and energizing about the sun. I open my eyes again, for a quick squinted look through my sunglasses at the sun. Flowers are blooming again, everything is bright and green. The birds are vocal, people are a little more vibrant. The breeze tosses a bit of hair across my face. Brushing it back a humming bird flutters about. Spring has finally come.

Time

Time. Such an oddity. Days go by, looking forward to what comes next. Then by chance, hit by a memory. Carried back, suddenly aware of how much time has passed. Things never thought of being so long ago, now 10 or 20 or more years behind. And time continues rolling on. There is no stopping it, no slowing it down to take a moment. It keeps passing on by, leaving behind chances. Near misses and missed opportunities. Regrets and happy moments. Skipped class, made the earlier bus, in the right place. It all falls behind to the passage of time.

Fantasy

Create a new life, a new self, someone totally different from you. Play at things you may never see or do or experience. The distances one can travel in the mind are infinite. Dance amongst the stars. Float in the clouds. Kiss the most beautiful person in the world. Live happily ever after. Save the world, be the hero. Anything is true to your mind. When real life lets you down, let your imagination save you. Rich, in love, happy. Where you speak with ease to the person you desire. They respond saying all the right things. Fade to black.

Window Down in the Rain

Window rolled down. Cool air hitting the skin. Cloudy skies let loose drops of rain. Breath it in and drive. Music blaring, in no rush to get there. One of those moments where the road is a friend. The air has a calming quality. Sorting through thoughts, letting go of all feelings. Just you and the road. Some how there is an innate freedom in it. Regardless of the rain, it even somehow makes it all the more perfect. Hand out the window, riding the wind. Exhale, breath again. It’s perfect, just cruising, with the window down in the rain.

Electric Bodies

They sat looking at each other. He ran his fingers ever so lightly down her arm. She loved that, the little tingles his touch sent through her body. She smiled, eyes closed for a moment. He watched her face. He loved watching her reactions. She looked at him, his tongue just between his lips. That tongue was such a turn on. She licked her own lips as she watched his tongue slip out of sight, into his mouth. He smiled now, brushing her lips with his. No going back now. His hands, her hips, his butt, her breasts, everything electric.

Shattered

A piercing scream and a glass crashes to the floor. The bitter silence broken. It had been so quiet for so long, it was nearly deafening. All the anger, rage, fear, resentment, sadness, hopelessness building for so long. It was almost inevitable that it would have to come out sometime. And come out it did. An explosion so fast, that it was almost in slow motion. It had been a long time coming, yet somehow it still seemed unexpected. A chair takes flight through the room, a photograph shaken from the wall, and with it the lives of a family.

Shit

Shit, sometimes you just have one of those days where you feel like shit. Where everyone is full of shit. For no explainable reason, shitty. Just something rubs the wrong way. And the day is gone to shit. You just want to scream, or tell everyone to piss off, or sit in a dark corner. Though somehow that will not relive the shitty feeling. Everyone, everything annoys you. You in turn annoy everyone else. Just because your day is inexplicably full of shit. So you have to sit back and deal with it. Hopefully the shitty feeling will go away.

Create

The need to create, to make something. A story, an image, still, motion. Say something, feel something, express something. Something interesting, something relatable, something thoughtful. The desire to create and the thought to create though are two such different things. So often they do not go hand in hand, thus making the endeavor ever so tough. Must produce something creative. Something not so blah, contrived, cliche, lame as last time. Must create something that can be returned to and enjoyed again, not loathed. Paint the perfect picture, be it with light, motion, words, whatever the medium, that is the aim.

Like a Cat in Heat

He’s cute, so is he. So many guys, so many with different qualities that make them attractive. Each of them so out of reach, so unattainable. Wondering if I really want to attain, or if it is just hormones over acting, as they tend to do from time to time. I liken it to a cat in heat, nearly every male in my path, I can find something attractive about them. Voice, eyes, body, face, hands, laugh. I can feel my senses perk up when a particularly attractive one passes close or speaks to me. It can be damn distracting.

Hiding Away in Plain Sight

I smile, look away. Trying not to linger too long. A fear of revealing, showing too much. Never to be too open. I end up being so closed off as to never make any real connection. Small talk, chatter on topics relating to class or work. Never to fully trust anyone, not even myself. Sometimes least of all myself. Moments of confidence quickly wither. When outside, sunglasses firmly in place, the easy way of avoiding eye contact. Careful, conscious not to look longer than to glance. Look too long the wrong idea might be gotten, or the right one betrayed.

Multiple Choice Exam

How much should I worry? How much should I cram? Or do I just relax sleep, and hope for the best from multiple guess? That time of the year again, when exams come round and round. Scantron bubbles which fits best. This week’s test is Dino anatomy. Not a whole lot of material, just three classes worth. But still there are many terms to know and where they go. Still, multiple choice, or multiple guess as an old professor of mine liked to call it, gives hope to all. Review the terms, take your best shot, one in four chance.

Observation

She stood looking around, breathing in the fresh cool air. There was something about the day, calming, reflective. It put her in a good state of mind. She felt good, mentally clear. Everything just felt more. There was no feeling she could define though. She watched as people passed by. Sometimes lingering a little longer on this face or that one. Something would draw her attention in them. Raise a curiosity of who they were. Looking down next at a dancing leaf on the cement. Observing a moment before her mind moved on to a new thought, a new observation.

Comfort

She reached for his arm. He moved to pull away, trying to hide. She gripped tighter and stepped in closer. "Don’t hide from me, please."
"Just let me be." He tried to wipe tears from his face.
"I want to be here for you. I’m not going to think less of you for crying when you fall on troubled times." Refusing to release his arm.
He stared at her a moment, then wrapped himself around her. No sobs were heard, but she could feel the moist tears drop onto her shoulder. An arm around his shoulders, a hand caressed his hair.

Waiting

Back and forth he paces the floor. Waiting, wondering, thinking. The anticipation seems endless. Sitting a moment only to pace again. He glances at the clock on the wall, only minutes have passed. He wonders how that could be possible. It had to be hours at least. Checking his watch, confirms that the clock is correct. Shaking his head, looking around. Gaze wandering from clock to other people to the table, to the potted plant. Letting out an audible sigh, he notes a few sympathetic faces. He rubbed his hands together, glanced at the clock, and forced himself to sit.

Sleep

Sleepy, sleepy, tired now. Long day, long week. Just sleepy. Drift off to dreamland, and count some sheep. They say eight hours a day makes it all okay. Seems too much more, just leaves you tired again. Too much less though and it is not any better. Grumpy, grouchy, the dwarf and the monster in the garbage can we loved as kids. Was their mood all just due to lack of sleep? Ever feel a grand identification with the lyrics of "Who Needs Sleep?" by the Barenaked Ladies? Boy, would I really hate to be the guy in that song.


Note: I know, I'm already skipping days... school's seriously kicking my ass this first week back. Hence the vaguely nonsensical and highly wacked drabble relating to sleep.

Unseen

She woke early, again. Before the sun began to glow. Walking to the kitchen, something changed. She dressed in her clothes from last night, took her bag and slipped out home. He woke when the door closed, looking used to finding her laying around the room. He shrugged though, heading for the shower. She glanced up at the window as she crossed the street, the sun began to glow along the sky. He dried his hair, grabbed some coffee, and started to wonder. He looked outside to see the sun lifting, somehow in all this time, could never see her.


Note: This is the conclusion to the drabble series inspired by "Tuesday Morning".

No Rules to Attraction

He watched her cross the room. Not the most beautiful, or thinnest, or most anything. She was intriguing though. He’d never seen her before, but the way she walked, sat, and spoke to the person next to her drew him in. Suddenly fascinated, suddenly determined to learn who she was. She wiggled a pen between her fingers. Her eyes a deep brown. He glanced away, then back to find her looking at him. His pulse jumped, she smiled at him, shyly, then looked away. He waited his chance, walking over to her. She smiled at him, he smiled back, "hey."

Bed

Lying awake in the dark. They stared at each other, trying to find things to say. He rolled over, facing away. For what seemed like ages she watched the back of his head. The telling rhythm of sleep was clear even from the back. She turned over now too. Her eyes trying to focus on anything in the dark room. A near moonless night, there was only the vague glow of streetlights through the blinds. Shifting, she felt as lonely as she thought she would alone at home. Closed her eyes, waiting for sleep, waiting for the comfort of dreams.


Note: Fifth in the series. Likely just one more to follow.

Night

In the car, streetlights streaking by. They sat in silence. He glanced at her. She wondered if he would ever be so open and real with her. They drew closer to her home. She felt a little lonely thinking of sleeping alone at home. She turned, asked him not to take her home. He nodded, turning to head for his home. She stared out the window at the darkened houses along the street. He set a hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze. She turned her head, crooked smile on her lips, glad not to be alone tonight.


Note: Part 4

Gathering

The room, lively, but mellow. His friends were fun, he was fun to watch with them. It was a new side of him. He joked around, glancing at her time to time. He’d always seemed serious and intellectual to her, this was new. He was goofy, outgoing, even a bit crude. Another of the ‘girlfriends’ pulled her outside for a breather. She was actually a little thankful. They watched through the window while their guys goofed around with people they had known for ages. An intimacy there that neither woman got with their man. A glance of understanding between them.

Note: Number 3 in drabble series.

Morning

She wakes, seeing his sleeping form next to her. She rises to start the coffee. So early the sun was still sleeping. Wandering back with a hot cup she pauses in the doorway, drinking in his body as much as the coffee. Setting the cup down, lifting her camera from the table. Snap, snap, snap. She smiles to herself setting the camera away again. Pacing the room, hot steam under her nose. Her eyes lingered now on the pictures on the wall. So many faces she didn’t know. Sleeping in his bed, but still only granted glimpses to his soul.


Note: This is a follow up to "Rain" and next entry in hopefully a series of drabbles inspired by "Tuesday Morning" by Michelle Branch.