(no subject)
Why do I get no enjoyment out of anything I do anymore? I must be sick again. I hate when I can't sleep, if I could only stop thinking for more then 2 seconds.
Wait, somethings different, why is everything so silent? I mean...it's 3am but why is there not even the slightest noise anymore? I looked around and listened as hard as I could: nothing. I kept waiting. What happened next I don't think I could really explain.
A figure stepped in front of my bed, it was dark but it almost seemed like he came from the very shadows themselves. I must've finally fallen asleep.
"I have a bone to pick with you," said a familiar sounding voice.
Okay, I guess I haven't fallen asleep. The strangest things make perfect sense to you when you're dreaming. I was dumbfounded.
"Who...what's going on?" I mustered.
As my eyes adjusted, the figure looked even more familiar. He took a few steps closer, noticeably upset.
"Would you just answer me this one question: what the hell do you think you're doing?" he said, gravely.
"Uh....I'm... trying to sleep. Who are you?"
Aside from his voice, there wasn't another thing in existence in the world. I wasn't scared as much as I was confused. Why do I always have to be in control.
"You're trying to sleep. I have another question, do you ever think about how you'll feel in 10 years?" His tone hadn't changed, and I still couldn't quite place it. It was concerning me almost as much as his plight.
"I...don't understand. I have no idea what I'll be doing in 10 years, and I still want to know what the fuck is going on."
I didn't understand why I was answering his questions. I needed to know something first. I never seem to stand up and be strong when I need to be. Why does the rest of the world continue to mature but I don't.
"It doesn't matter what you'll be doing. Do you even know what you're doing now? DO YOU?" he started to get very upset. "Have you enjoyed yourself lately? Can you remember a better time, an overall better experience?"
He put his hand on my dresser and leaned on it. It was still too dark to see well enough. Something about his posture was also familiar. I watched him and felt as if he did something, I would do the exact same thing at some point. If he felt something, I would feel the exact same thing someday. He blinked, so I blinked.
"Um, well, I mean I don't seem to really enjoy the things I used to anymore...But it's not my fault I'm surrounded by repetition and stagnancy. I just need to find a better place." I had said these things in my head countless times, but it felt nice to actually say it to someone, someone neutral who I wouldn't feel less because of. Why don't I ever let anyone in who deserves to be.
"So life has become stagnant has it, vapid maybe? And you really think that it's just because you have a mental problem of some kind, or that everyone around you is stuck wondering inside a box?"
He seemed to know exactly what I meant, and to an extent I hadn't really covered... he went on.
"How many times have you told yourself that you make your own universe? Where you are is a result of decisions, what happened to that? Tell me, what have you done to try and change your life lately, maybe make it not the cycle of indifference and eye-rolling it is?"
What? How did he...now I'm even more confused, and I can't figure this out. Why do I always make everything more difficult than it actually is.
He sat down on the bed next to me. And it was then that I realized something that made me sure I was dreaming. I almost laughed at myself for thinking otherwise. I sighed and rolled back over. I laid there no longer worried about my morning class the next day. I don't know how much time elapsed but I was startled again by my own voice-
"When we take life for granted, we travel in time," he said, as I slowly turned back, finding my face in mine, "so either stop and look around, or step into this portal and fucking kiss the next 2 years of your life goodbye."
And with that it was gone. Drifting out of vision like a rapid dusk. I got up and turned on the lamp, looking around the room and finding nothing except the same usual sounds: whirring of a computer, muffled voices, and the faint whining of the wind on the windows. I touched my face, and the things around me. Something makes me think I hadn't just woken up; there was no lapse in time. I couldn't move, or breathe. Even if I hadn't been sleeping, I had just woken up. I looked around me, and the pictures made me content, the walls made me content. I felt now void of a familiar sense of vacuity. I felt happy, and optimistically in control.
Without a thought, I stood up. I put on pants and a shirt, took a beer out of my fridge, and walked out of my room into the bustling living room.
Wait, somethings different, why is everything so silent? I mean...it's 3am but why is there not even the slightest noise anymore? I looked around and listened as hard as I could: nothing. I kept waiting. What happened next I don't think I could really explain.
A figure stepped in front of my bed, it was dark but it almost seemed like he came from the very shadows themselves. I must've finally fallen asleep.
"I have a bone to pick with you," said a familiar sounding voice.
Okay, I guess I haven't fallen asleep. The strangest things make perfect sense to you when you're dreaming. I was dumbfounded.
"Who...what's going on?" I mustered.
As my eyes adjusted, the figure looked even more familiar. He took a few steps closer, noticeably upset.
"Would you just answer me this one question: what the hell do you think you're doing?" he said, gravely.
"Uh....I'm... trying to sleep. Who are you?"
Aside from his voice, there wasn't another thing in existence in the world. I wasn't scared as much as I was confused. Why do I always have to be in control.
"You're trying to sleep. I have another question, do you ever think about how you'll feel in 10 years?" His tone hadn't changed, and I still couldn't quite place it. It was concerning me almost as much as his plight.
"I...don't understand. I have no idea what I'll be doing in 10 years, and I still want to know what the fuck is going on."
I didn't understand why I was answering his questions. I needed to know something first. I never seem to stand up and be strong when I need to be. Why does the rest of the world continue to mature but I don't.
"It doesn't matter what you'll be doing. Do you even know what you're doing now? DO YOU?" he started to get very upset. "Have you enjoyed yourself lately? Can you remember a better time, an overall better experience?"
He put his hand on my dresser and leaned on it. It was still too dark to see well enough. Something about his posture was also familiar. I watched him and felt as if he did something, I would do the exact same thing at some point. If he felt something, I would feel the exact same thing someday. He blinked, so I blinked.
"Um, well, I mean I don't seem to really enjoy the things I used to anymore...But it's not my fault I'm surrounded by repetition and stagnancy. I just need to find a better place." I had said these things in my head countless times, but it felt nice to actually say it to someone, someone neutral who I wouldn't feel less because of. Why don't I ever let anyone in who deserves to be.
"So life has become stagnant has it, vapid maybe? And you really think that it's just because you have a mental problem of some kind, or that everyone around you is stuck wondering inside a box?"
He seemed to know exactly what I meant, and to an extent I hadn't really covered... he went on.
"How many times have you told yourself that you make your own universe? Where you are is a result of decisions, what happened to that? Tell me, what have you done to try and change your life lately, maybe make it not the cycle of indifference and eye-rolling it is?"
What? How did he...now I'm even more confused, and I can't figure this out. Why do I always make everything more difficult than it actually is.
He sat down on the bed next to me. And it was then that I realized something that made me sure I was dreaming. I almost laughed at myself for thinking otherwise. I sighed and rolled back over. I laid there no longer worried about my morning class the next day. I don't know how much time elapsed but I was startled again by my own voice-
"When we take life for granted, we travel in time," he said, as I slowly turned back, finding my face in mine, "so either stop and look around, or step into this portal and fucking kiss the next 2 years of your life goodbye."
And with that it was gone. Drifting out of vision like a rapid dusk. I got up and turned on the lamp, looking around the room and finding nothing except the same usual sounds: whirring of a computer, muffled voices, and the faint whining of the wind on the windows. I touched my face, and the things around me. Something makes me think I hadn't just woken up; there was no lapse in time. I couldn't move, or breathe. Even if I hadn't been sleeping, I had just woken up. I looked around me, and the pictures made me content, the walls made me content. I felt now void of a familiar sense of vacuity. I felt happy, and optimistically in control.
Without a thought, I stood up. I put on pants and a shirt, took a beer out of my fridge, and walked out of my room into the bustling living room.