The Conclusion To Nowhere
The Conclusion To Nowhere
Not so long ago I wrote a short story that I felt was really relevant to me at the time. I promised someone that I would write it like I actually felt, though. Two years later I've finally come through on that promise. I find myself feeling that it's even more relevant to me today than it was back then. Here's the end result of alot of inward searching...
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Insomnia
The sleeping pills weren't working. Instead I found myself dizzy and incoherent. The walls surrounding me seemed to be reciting some drug induced choreography for my entertainment. The clocks adorning those walls seemed to be victims of their own mad laughter. Whether this laughter was directed at me or was incited by my own amused outburst, I was unsure. I was uneasy to say the least. I was in a position that left me feeling out of control of my environment, as well as where the night would lead.
With my mind in this condition, questions I had long ago put out of my conscious began to slowly trickle into my intoxicated thought process. How had I ended up here, in this rundown house with its cracked sidewalk and dead lawn? How had I come to lying alone in this uncomfortable bed every night? Why was I waking up to the same dead end job every day, just to come home to repeat the process every night?
It was at this moment that I realized just how much I was unsure of. I was unsure of what brought me to this point in my life. I was unsure of how much longer any of this would last. But, most of all, I was entirely unsure of myself. They say that more than anything, humanity fears the unknown. I didn't know how I had ended up on this path, or where it even leads for that matter. In this moment, the only thing that I knew was that I was more afraid than I had ever been in my entire life.
The dilapidation of my surroundings only served to strengthen the idea that every facet of my life was just as broken-down and faded. The leaking ceiling seemed criticize me with every drop that fell into the pan below it. The draft from the window beside me mocked me as it chilled me through my thread-bare sheets. God, it was all such a waste. Someone else could have made so much better of it all. It could have been the dream house for a family and their dog. There could have been swing set in the backyard for their honor student instead of overgrown weeds and the remains of some cheap lawn furniture.
I rolled over and faced the melting clock on my dancing wall. The time on its twisted face read 3:38 a.m. It had been nearly four hours since I had taken the pill. In those four hours, its effects slowly grew in strength and numbers. Everything around me was turning into a blurred mass. Perception, dignity, and harmony are all gifts given to the sane; at least I couldn't waste what I no longer had.
I couldn't remember the exact moment where it had all gone wrong. The past decade of my life seemed like one string of convenient mishaps after another. Frustration slowly grew into apathy and I began to do just enough to get by. I pushed what had set it all in motion out of my mind long ago. In the state I was in, however, I had no choice but to remember. I had been happy once. I had a relationship with an amazing girl, and a plethora of friends to back it up. It seemed so sudden when it all dissolved in front of my eyes. A car accident had taken the life of someone dear to me. The stress ended my relationship and caused me to turn inward. I pushed everyone close to me away and sank into my own corner to slowly fade away.
I turned away from the dancing wall, hoping a new position would bring me rest. I didn't know which had hurt more, to remember the pain I felt, or to remember what it was like to be happy. It had been so long since I had felt anything that made me feel so vibrant or alive. Instead I chose to seek refuge elsewhere. I found solace in my addictions, and one by one my dependencies grew in number. Perhaps that's why I thought taking a few more pills would help quell the restlessness I was feeling.
I began to feel more and more distant as I tossed and turned, dodging the springs poking through the top of my mattress. I rolled over to face the clock once more. It had been a long night. It was now 5:45 a.m., and I could no longer hold my eyes open. With the last bit of energy I had, I reached over and switched the alarm to "off." You don't need an alarm when you're not waking up. No more leaking ceiling or overgrown weeds. No more dead end job or drafty window. There's only rest eternal, and the story of a man who went nowhere.
Not so long ago I wrote a short story that I felt was really relevant to me at the time. I promised someone that I would write it like I actually felt, though. Two years later I've finally come through on that promise. I find myself feeling that it's even more relevant to me today than it was back then. Here's the end result of alot of inward searching...
_____________________________________________________________
Insomnia
The sleeping pills weren't working. Instead I found myself dizzy and incoherent. The walls surrounding me seemed to be reciting some drug induced choreography for my entertainment. The clocks adorning those walls seemed to be victims of their own mad laughter. Whether this laughter was directed at me or was incited by my own amused outburst, I was unsure. I was uneasy to say the least. I was in a position that left me feeling out of control of my environment, as well as where the night would lead.
With my mind in this condition, questions I had long ago put out of my conscious began to slowly trickle into my intoxicated thought process. How had I ended up here, in this rundown house with its cracked sidewalk and dead lawn? How had I come to lying alone in this uncomfortable bed every night? Why was I waking up to the same dead end job every day, just to come home to repeat the process every night?
It was at this moment that I realized just how much I was unsure of. I was unsure of what brought me to this point in my life. I was unsure of how much longer any of this would last. But, most of all, I was entirely unsure of myself. They say that more than anything, humanity fears the unknown. I didn't know how I had ended up on this path, or where it even leads for that matter. In this moment, the only thing that I knew was that I was more afraid than I had ever been in my entire life.
The dilapidation of my surroundings only served to strengthen the idea that every facet of my life was just as broken-down and faded. The leaking ceiling seemed criticize me with every drop that fell into the pan below it. The draft from the window beside me mocked me as it chilled me through my thread-bare sheets. God, it was all such a waste. Someone else could have made so much better of it all. It could have been the dream house for a family and their dog. There could have been swing set in the backyard for their honor student instead of overgrown weeds and the remains of some cheap lawn furniture.
I rolled over and faced the melting clock on my dancing wall. The time on its twisted face read 3:38 a.m. It had been nearly four hours since I had taken the pill. In those four hours, its effects slowly grew in strength and numbers. Everything around me was turning into a blurred mass. Perception, dignity, and harmony are all gifts given to the sane; at least I couldn't waste what I no longer had.
I couldn't remember the exact moment where it had all gone wrong. The past decade of my life seemed like one string of convenient mishaps after another. Frustration slowly grew into apathy and I began to do just enough to get by. I pushed what had set it all in motion out of my mind long ago. In the state I was in, however, I had no choice but to remember. I had been happy once. I had a relationship with an amazing girl, and a plethora of friends to back it up. It seemed so sudden when it all dissolved in front of my eyes. A car accident had taken the life of someone dear to me. The stress ended my relationship and caused me to turn inward. I pushed everyone close to me away and sank into my own corner to slowly fade away.
I turned away from the dancing wall, hoping a new position would bring me rest. I didn't know which had hurt more, to remember the pain I felt, or to remember what it was like to be happy. It had been so long since I had felt anything that made me feel so vibrant or alive. Instead I chose to seek refuge elsewhere. I found solace in my addictions, and one by one my dependencies grew in number. Perhaps that's why I thought taking a few more pills would help quell the restlessness I was feeling.
I began to feel more and more distant as I tossed and turned, dodging the springs poking through the top of my mattress. I rolled over to face the clock once more. It had been a long night. It was now 5:45 a.m., and I could no longer hold my eyes open. With the last bit of energy I had, I reached over and switched the alarm to "off." You don't need an alarm when you're not waking up. No more leaking ceiling or overgrown weeds. No more dead end job or drafty window. There's only rest eternal, and the story of a man who went nowhere.