At times I sit with a pen in hand, a notebook full of empty pages and a pack of cigarettes in hand, waiting for that perfect story to leap from the tip of my pen onto the paper, and I could call it my own. All my ideas started with an emotion, usually a confused one, or more than one contradicting the other. But when I sat down today and ran through all the emotions I realized that I didn't know how to place any of my emotions. All my emotions were already thrown into one word, one phrase, I could sum up my entire life and emotional existence with the popular word - CONFUSED!! I spent most of my time wallowing in my own self-pity. I'd constantly think about improving a life I thought was meaningless. I'd remind myself of the failures I've "accomplished" and no success stories. I don't even really know what a success story is. All the stories where I come up on top started with something I "failed" at. My success stories started at a huge downfall and end only half way up - where I though I could stop. Only now do I realize that I never should stop half way.........
There's a fan spinning somewhere that's squeaking, annoying my nerves. It's almost like a clock ticking in the middle of the night, or a phone call that wakes you up an hour before you have to be up. Or being pulled over a mile before your destination, or noticing you have no gas or cigarettes a day before payday. And the music is elevator instrumental, no words allowed. Yet sometimes I pick up a familiar beat and start humming the words quietly. Yet, it's almost like having the last chorus of your favorite song when your flipping through the radio. The extreme difference in quiet and loud almost scares me. From the time it hits 8:00 am the store is awake, hopping, customers moving, employees trying to please them, and managers being paged from one end of the store to the other. Yet about 6:00 pm the store thrives for excitement of any kind. The register prints louder it seems. The intercom gets a break from it's over exhaustion yet at night it seems easier to hear it's booming voices. Now I can hear the AC kick on, like hearing someone next to you drift into a peaceful sleep. And it shuts off, with abruptness!!
I can spend hours in one day thinking about someone who I believe doesn't want me, and in the same aspect spend just a few brief moments of the same day, glimpsing my mind to someone who does. There can be no logic behind this, except for maybe, we always want what we can't have. However, to that statement I must make a comment, I don't want to think about that person any longer. But yet I don't want them to fade from my memory either. His face has already dimmed, making me wish I had taken a picture. But in actuality wanting to see his face one more time. I know everyone out there has someone they can't live without. Be it a lover, a friend, a relative, or even a foe there has to be someone you cannot live without. Or am I the only one? Am I the only person in this world that can't let go of someone? Someone I so desperately just would love to smoke one last bowl with and just talk the entire night through like we have done so many time. Am I the only one that has met someone to incredibly perfect for you then fucked it up? And in reality it wasn't MY fuck up, it was uncontrollable circumstances. Has anyone else felt so coordinated with someone else's words and thoughts that you could have a conversation with them and not only agree but also learn so much? Have you ever wondered where you'll meet again, because your whole body, soul and mind tells you that just out of circumstance you're going to run into this person. And yet have you ever wondered if the person actually cares to even see you again? Are you a thought in their mind? An inspirational object of their passion? I want to quit writing about him so bad, but yet he was the inspiration for some of my most amazing work. He makes me think, and I want someone like that.
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