She sits in her room, strumming her guitar and singing to herself. This the only time she doesn't feel like shes damaging anything or anyone. She sings the first words that come to her, trying to make sense of the lyrics as they leave her lips. Her computer makes that annoying familiar noise and that yellow man dances around mockingly. Its no one she wants to talk to, though it never is when shes playing her guitar. The train of though is lost. Endless hours spent on meaningless communication, that only her hard drive will remember eventually. She glances at the clock. Its three hours later than shed like it to be. Actually, she doesn't remember the last three hours very well at all. She looks around and finds nothing to show for the passing of time. How many hours does she spend biting her lip and starring at nothing? With the vast amount of books dormint on her shelf, unlimited finger positions and chord progressions, and ashes of make up work that she fears may have mattered some day, she glares at the clock. Then she glares at the always incomplete conversations on her computer screen, the farmville requests that just couldn't go unforfiled, and that damn yellow wall. She focuses on everything and nothing until her eyes glaze over and when she finally blinks, it hurts. One would think that there had to be something fascinating beneath the paint. She falls asleep all the time, except when appropriate. When the time comes that the rest of the town surrenders themselves to sleep, she wastes her time worrying about wasted time. She knows most of the things that she does are dumb and greatly contribute to her collection of unhappiness. She just doesn't know when to stop, or where to start. Shes trapped in purgatory, on the verge of tears but unable to cry. So instead she looks at the wall and tonight decides to type some words while doing so. One more look at the clock. Its four hours later than she wishes it was. She knows that she made a mistake but something inside her is screaming she cant go back. She wants to cry because of all that she knows now that shes distant. But like I said, she cant.
A Day in the Life
October 19, 2009