Incessant Ramblings Of An Adolescent Mind

Thursday, August 09, 2012

'Cause Girl You're Amazing Just The Way You Are

The little bag of white crystals hit the table in front of him as he leaned back in the chair. There was a familiar tingling feeling inside his nose that told him relief was coming. This wasn't what life was supposed to be about and he knew it. He knew this wasn't normal or healthy. But there was nothing left for him to enjoy any more. There was no 'special someone', no 'silver lining'. Just the same dull, grey skies outside that window, day in, day out. And this was just his way to cope. His way to get some little ounce of joy in an eternity of bland, unexciting mediocrity. This was just him, these days.

His heart was pounding, his throat was dry and there was sweat in places he didn't know could sweat. Yet here he was: face to face, over the dinner table with the girl who had made this last month worth living. She was so beautiful. She had given him back his self respect. He'd stopped the drugs, was stopping smoking and even cutting down on alcohol and all because of the confidence he got from her.

Not that she knew it, though. She just sat there, deep in conversation, completely unaware of how much she was helping him be free again. She was stunningly beautiful: the wonderful auburn hair fading to an indeterminate end somewhere near her perfectly angled chin, the deep, sparkly, ever-present twinkle of her eyes and the warmth and peaceful happiness that seemed to emanate from her. She was just wonderful. She almost never seemed to have anything disrespectful to say about anyone. She was easy to love.

He was jittery inside, all evening. He honestly couldn't believe he was here with her. It had taken him almost a year to tell her how she made him feel. And he couldn't help but feel that he was punching far above his weight with her by his side.

He fell to his knees on the hard stone floor and looked in horror, through the tears in his eyes at the words he'd just read. "i only really see you as a friend". He was gasping for air as the banging inside his head began once more. She would never be his now.

He knew exactly what he'd done wrong. But that made it even harder to take. He couldn't let her know what this was going to do to him. She would feel awful if she did. He'd have to hold back the tears every day from now until she left. He'd have to sit and still give her the same happy smile of longing that he always had done. He'd laugh at her jokes and try and repay her for what she had done for him. He owed her that.

He was alone in his bedroom. 2 o'clock in the morning and he was still awake. Tears in his eyes and unable to sleep. In less than 40 hours, she would be gone from his life. He was struggling to resist the urge to break and go back to his old life. 2 months now, without a single banned substance. In honour of her, and the memory of sitting opposite the most beautiful human being he had ever met, he would never touch another gram.




Friday, April 20, 2012

"And When I Close My Eyes Tonight..."

The tension that bound their gaze to each other was impossibly intense. He hadn't looked at someone like this in a long, long time. And it had been even longer since he'd been looked at the same way. Whether she felt it or not, he needed this. He knew it was going to happen. He also knew it probably wouldn't be anywhere as smooth as he'd remember it in the morning. But the way things were going in life right now, this could be a glimmer of distant light that he needed.

Barely a week had elapsed since he'd been used and tossed aside. His self worth had been drained completely. But before him was someone so clean, so free... and she was giving him it back. She was beautiful. Her hair fell casually down to her neck, flowing like a sea of dark red plasma. The eye shadow highlighted the twinkle of the cigarette she held in her hand. There was a soft, gentle sparkle of the need to feel loved, of vulnerability and fear-shaken-excitement, all hidden and masked by the calm blanket of someone regaining their confidence.

She lifted the cigarette to her lips, and he felt the familiar pounding of the blood through his cheeks. Her neck pulsated gently, as her hair fell back, exposing the soft skin. He wasn't even aware of intending to say it. "I have no idea what's happening here, you're talking to me and... well look at you, you're beautiful". She turned her head to the side, and looked down embarrassed, at her feet. "What? Don't look away, that means you don't believe me". 

She took another breath through the stick in her hand. He could see she was uncomfortable. He hated this. She didn't believe him, she didn't know. He reached out his hand to comfort her and felt his hand touch the warm skin on her neck. It was like touching an electric fence, as soon as he felt contact, he wanted to withdraw, back to where it was safe. But he couldn't. He couldn't let her live not hearing those words. "Look into my eyes" he said, and he could feel the smile spreading across his face. After a deep breath, she lifted her head and looked back at him. There was something in her face that said she was torn between letting him say this and running off. "Oh my god... you.... you're absolutely..." he stopped, let the warm, stagnant air in his lungs pass out, and drinking in an ocean of cool, calming night air. "'re beautiful", he finished. 

She'd maintained eye contact throughout, and he was grateful that she tried. He was tempted to look away, but he couldn't. There was a tear just beginning in the corner of her eye, and he knew he'd touched a nerve. "I'm sorry, but you need to hear it" he started to say. She was still looking into his eyes and he felt it snap together inside. He let the smile fade from his face. Something was pushing him. There was only one thing he could do now. He moved his head close and closed his eyes. There was an almighty pounding of blood in his neck and his knees where physically shaking. But it felt right, he just had to. He felt the cold press against his mouth and felt the last two years of his life break away behind him. He moved back slightly and opened his eyes. She was still looking at him. He felt that smile come back. For a second, he thought she was about to run. But she didn't. She was still there, with him. 

She'd come into his life at the absolute breaking point, and she'd tipped the scales back in his favour. And although she was now over a hundred miles away, and had her own life to get on with, he wouldn't forget that one wonderful March evening, their lives had overlapped. He hated the thought that she was gone, but he knew that out there, that beautiful smile was still there somewhere. And she would one day make someone the happiest they could possibly. And the grey rain clouds above made him realise just how alone he now was. The sun had set on his day in the sun, and now it was time to take shelter and wait for morning.

You gave me back my life, and whether you know it or not, I wont ever let you fade from my memory.



Thursday, April 19, 2012

"A Life of Mine to Live"

The previously thundering train engine was idling down, as the breaks eased onto the wheels. The rain was making it hard, but friction was slowing the train. The small engine crept to a standstill and lay in wait, until the line ahead was clear.

He'd sat and watched the rain lashing the train window for what seemed like hours. The empty hole inside seemed to ache and stretch every time he moved. The gentle patting sound of each rain drop hitting the roof above seemed to hammer right into his heart. The Dave shaped whole that he'd left in the world, had began to heal, and he couldn't fit back any more. It was right. Like putting on old clothes and realising they don't fit any more. It was a mark of how much he'd changed.

The desperate, bloodshot and tired eyes that looked back from the reflection rested upon his body, once again completely different. The emaciated, imprisoned look he used to wear was gone. Instead, fine, dense muscle was beginning to amass. Physically, he was a new person. Almost indistinguishable from the man who'd looked back at him before. But inside his head, the chains still bound him. The open wounds still bled a helpless anger into his world.

He looked out to the world beyond the glass. The world was stationary. The trees growing here were only visible from the rails. Such a strange place for such an immensely powerful organism. Trees last for decades, such mighty, immovable life-givers. Yet here, in the quiet corner, just outside of his home town, where few would ever see, they grew in peace.Birds looked for worms amongst the damp grass, as rain pooled in the metal supports for the rails. A whole world, never to be seen.

He held his phone a few feet from his head. He wanted to, but he knew he couldn't. As soon as he'd see her latest Facebook status, another bullet would add to the hole inside. As he sat in indecision, he looked back out to the invisible world merely feet away. Trains weren't supposed to stop here, so normally, this place would blend into the green blur as the train wound its way through the countryside.

he knew he shouldn't be this attached. But she came into his life when he needed someone like her. He'd hit a make or break point. Alone, 100 miles from home and with nothing to his name, he needed someone. And like a guardian angel, she'd walked towards him, smiled and extended an arm.

Their evening was merely a blur now. Her red hair, the feel of he cheek on his hand, the warmth of another human body against his own. The feel of arms around him and the soft, caring kiss that he craved to return to. But she wasn't his. She was gone. He could do it, he could look, let that bullet hit him in the chest and feel the pain of being human, of being back in the world that left him to die. Or he could put his phone away and live inside his mind, untouched and unseen. Fuel flooded the pistons of the engine and with an enormous effort, the gargantuan machine hauled tonnes of steel and human forward along the rail.

He was leaving the unseen world and it was time for him to feel human again


Thursday, March 22, 2012

"The Blood of Their Enemies Watching While They Sentence Me"

The silence in the room pressed so heavily against his ears, it felt as though his head would break. The time between the ticks of his clock seemed to have stretched to absurd proportions. It was dark in here, and he liked dark. Dark was his friend.

His mind was stalling on the thought it had done every night for the past two months. It was her; every time she bulldozed her way back into his life, he was left feeling like this. It wasn't anything to do with her exactly, but she brought with her the lifestyle that made him realise he didn't fit in. He wasn't like everyone else. There was no obvious thing you could point to and say "this is why you're different", but everyone knew it. You didn't just love Dave, you fell in love with him, the way a mother does for her child.

And it was this, which he had spent 2 years running from. He didn't want people to love him. He wanted to feel normal. But he wasn't. He wasn't particularly clever, and he was woefully below average when it came to looks. Everything was always such a struggle for him, when it never seemed to be for anyone else.

He took a minute to think about this. The eternal drumming inside his head audible over the rabble once more. The fire was alight inside again. The rage and fury that ripped and tore at the withering soul of the boy they love. He couldn't pretend that it wasn't there any more. He hated the world. He wanted to start a fire and watch them scream and cry. Watch the strong collapse, watch the rich crumble and watch the weak fight for the scraps. Because they would. They all would. They walk around as if their mere presence should brighten the day of any individual with whom they interact. They look down their noses at him as if he were an unpleasant sight.

This time, he would not back out. He'd been burned at the stake by a uncaring world. And he'd lost the last part of him which cared enough to spare them. From this point on, there would be no turning back. He could feel he had changed. The bonds he was making with people weren't the same. He liked them, but there was no love. Not even for those whom he'd loved before. There was no underlying emotion. Any sense of emotion had been thumped out of him over the last 2 years. The walking shell he'd become had learned to mimic the old Dave exactly.

The plan now laid out before him, he could scarcely believe he cared so little for mankind. There was no concern for anyone innocent who might get hurt in the crossfire. At last, they'd know how he felt, how they made him feel. They would see how disgusting they really are.

There was only two people he loved enough to spare. His oldest friend, with whom he'd spent the biggest and most fun part of his life, he would be safe. And the second... a flash of blond hair and shine of her light blue eyes... it still made his heart beat fast, even after all these years. He loved her more than anyone.

They had been warned not to trust him and they had ignored it. The monster they had created was composing itself to attack. The cries that emanated from him now were no longer warnings. The cries of pain and hurt had long ceased. This was no warning, this was a battle cry. The war was starting.



Sunday, February 19, 2012

"I Never Really Cared Until I Met You"

In the blink of an eye, an eternity was passing inside of his mind. Every moment, every breath, every word, every thought and every feeling seemed to have been building to this moment. As he looked upwards into those deep brown eyes, the same eyes he'd looked into thousands of times before, he now saw something very different. Instead of a pitying sense of admiration, there was a hungry, needing innocence, the need to be protected and the need to be made to feel exactly how he needed to feel.

He'd thought for a while that she liked him. But it was never straight forward. Their history made things so much less clearer than it should. And circumstance still had time to conspire against him. It would continue to do so, as it always had. But she was patient. This was at last what he needed. More than everything he'd ever had before, this could make him. She had only been back in his life for a week and the ground beneath his feet felt stable again for the first time in over 2 years. She wasn't actually doing anything, but her presence gave him something. Being wanted made him feel valuable; made him feel human. And with that feeling he could let go of the anger and the hate that had held him caged in his own mind. The chains binding him to his hell were rusty and breaking. One by one, everything he'd struggled against, every battle he'd fought, seemed to have been worth it.

Everything seemed to feel right. The soft touch of her skin, the gentle cushioning of her breath on his neck, the feel of her lips on his... He was flashing back to every scream, every tear, every night spent crying in the corner of his room in the dark, every mile he'd pushed himself to, every bead of sweat he'd pushed through his skin... it was worth it. The hate had been his only friend for so long, he wasn't sure he knew how to love someone again. But she was the golden light of the morning sun in his life of darkness. The pre-dawn light she was already pouring into his life was more blissful than he ever could have imagined. At last, after all this searching, he'd found the Dave-shaped whole into which he could fit. Somewhere in life for him to exist.

His breathing was rapid and deep. He could feel the blood pulsing through the vessels in his neck and feel his heart thudding against his ribcage. She was applying a gentle weight to his wrists to hold him down and he could feel the blood flow being directed away from his vital organs as for the first time in long over 24 months, something inside him was awakening. An urge, a desire... the lust was flooding his body. The deepening sound of her breath told him she could feel it too. The pull between them was strong. The pressing of her body on his, the heat they were sharing and the intensity with which they were holding onto each other kept them locked together. They both know they had to break apart any minute, but he couldn't let this minute end. He reached up and kissed her again. Her eyes only visible by the hall light creeping in through the crack under the door. Not that he needed to see her, he could feel her, he could sense her.

As their time ticked down, they looked into each others, each making a silent promise that this was not the end. He couldn't leave her. Not now. Not again. He wasn't scared any more. He was human. He was alive. She was giving him back his life. And he needed it. They both did, right now. And as their moment together ended, he could carry with the idea that finally he had something to hold onto and someone to need him.

Until next time



Monday, February 13, 2012

"Since You've Been Gone"

Everyone needs their rock, and she had hers. He was everything to her. She loved him more than anyone. The way he looked after her, like a big brother; it was what she needed. He'd sometimes go too far and get in the way a bit but he meant well. In his eyes, nobody was good enough for her. And for the time being at least, she was happy with that. He was always there to protect her. They did everything together. On all their whacky nights out, she could always rely on him to get her home, first and foremost. Just like a big brother should.

They'd come close to getting together once or twice. It wasn't that she wanted him like that... but on more than one occasion she'd seen him looking at her. And sometimes when you're caught off-guard, knowing that there's someone to whom you're the world... it can give you the push you need to get out of bed in the mornings, when the cold dark world beats you about. And he was so strong, when it came to her. So definitive. Like she gave him something that he needed to be the big man.

Sometimes they'd walk through the park together and talk about the good times they'd had together. They'd been friends now since the first day of secondary school; a friendship born of their parents'. He was the centre of their group. Everyone loved him and he was so full of life. It was clear that he was enjoying his life. And she was enjoying hers. Together, there wasn't a blip big enough that they couldn't take on together. Side by side, they would live or die together.

It had been a long winter. She hadn't heard from him for a while now. It was starting to get to her a little, now. Did he not like her? Had he got bored? Well... once or twice she saw him, but only really when she went to visit his housemates. One of them was cute. Really Cute. He was alright. They'd flirted a little, dance a bit and things were starting to move quite nicely.

Maybe the rock man was needed elsewhere for a while. He'd be back soon though. As soon as March was done, he'd come home. They could have him back again. He'd promised. She was starting to need someone there for her and without him, things weren't the same. Like a car with a wheel missing; things could keep going, but nothing felt alright. He was just going through a tough patch, that was all.

As march rolled into April, which in turn broke into June and July. The cold dark nights made way to a sunnier, happier spring. But he was still nowhere to be seen. The park was no longer empty, but to walk through it without feeling the warmth of his hand in hers left her feeling empty and alone. How could he do this to her? How dare he? Ok, so he had problems eating, but she was needing him more and more and without him, cracks were starting to appear. Things with his house mate had gone badly and she needed someone to rely on. Luckily the rest of the group had come to her help, in his absence. They had been a lifeline for her when she needed it. And boy, did she need it now.

Their half dance at the wedding and a quick wave and a "we must meet up for coffee or something" was all she had seen of him now for way over a year. He was a wreck. Emotionally and physically. His feeble body was unnatural, his personality lay in pieces... it was like a man possessed. Whoever this Dave-like man was, it wasn't her friend. The man she loved... used to love. The twinkle of joy, to look of hunger and longing in his eyes had long died. There was only the cold, blank stair of hurt and pain inside that head. She longed to speak to the old Dave, to help him. But he wouldn't let them. He wouldn't talk to them, wouldn't see them... he was dying inside and making them watch. She couldn't do it any more. For his sake, and for her own, she had to leave him. It wasn't so bad. There was someone new now. He was nice. They'd been talking for a while and things seemed promising. And with summer around the corner, who knew what lay ahead.

She'd got to the pub later than planned this evening, and as soon as she walked in, felt a red-hot burn of anger. So, he finally shows his face. He turned to face her and in the instant their eyes met, something of the old Dave appeared in his face. She couldn't be angry, not now. But so much had changed. Her life was so different now. She'd been forced to evolve in his absence, and even though they would be sat next to each other, just as they had many times before, the few centimetres between them seemed to span the length of the observable universe. Like a ghostly echo from a time long gone, his voice, the way he talked, the way he moved... he was back. And it was too late.

The pity she felt was fading, taking with it the anger and resentment that she had, for how badly she felt about being abandoned. If it wasn't for the love that was entering her life right now, she'd hate him for what he did. For locking her out in the cold and disappearing from her life when she needed him so badly. But her evolution had made her stronger. Strong enough to look with a reminiscent smile at her fallen angel, finally getting back to his feet. He would not be forgiven, and this would never be forgotten. But she wished him all the best for his life, now that she had her own.

Billions of light years across the void between them, tears were running down the inside of his head. Blood was pouring from every wound and every cut inside burned with the pain he knew he was long overdue. He needed to feel this pain, to know he was human. And to look at what he had taken... and what he had given. He had been gone so long, the gap he'd once filled didn't fit him any more. His place had gone.

You'll probably never read these words. I cannot tell you the pain I feel, when I consider what I did to you. You were my world for so, so long. You were my rock, when I needed one too. And without you, 2 years of my life crumbled into oblivion. As my time here ticks away, second by second I hope that the joy you are about to receive, goes some way to restoring your faith



Saturday, February 04, 2012

"Made to Kneel Before the Alter as you Tear us Apart"

2 years ago, he'd woken this morning,with a smile on his face. The blanketing warmth of the body next to him gave him value. A reason to lift his body from the mattress. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest as she slept, echoing the rhythm and stability she bought to his life. The gentle tapping as the veins pulled back against the surge of blood, racing through them, the only sound that gave meaning to his life.

A quick look at his phone and the four messages telling him how great the night had been, boosting his spirits. The sheer pleasure of something as simple as being able to take his ipod into the bathroom to listen to while in the shower, seemed to guild this perfect life with exquisite taste and decorum.

Opening the doors to the garden, he'd light another cigarette and the mere taste would excite his senses. Like prodding an open wound, his mouth would come alive with the tastes of the previous night. Images would flash across his eyes: skin, sweat, smoke...The calming flood of incoming nicotine subduing the guilt and the pain inside. It was far from ending, but with a life like this, it was bearable. His friends would support him if they knew. But they didn't need to. The darkness was in check.

With his fingers on his temples, he'd sit, sometimes for an hour or more, just remembering, thinking, dreaming. The birdsong wouldwash his mind clear from all the murkiness and leave him with only an incling that everything was not alright. In the same way that a boat can sail happily across an ocean without knowing that fathoms below, a violet sea of turmoil turns light to darkness and remorselessly obliterates anything which stands in its way, so he was living out his weekends in this alcohol drenched, tobacco filled hole, silently drowning. He knew that something would probably snap at some point. But he was safe right now. There was a slight tapping of discontent from within. But right now, there was another party to prepare for. Another girl to chase and another bottle of the clear, calm-giving nectar which kept that top layer of water so very different from what lay underneath.

He woke to the sound of his alarm and wondered at once why the endless hammering inside his head hadn't woken him hours before. The tapping had grown. IT had happened so slowly that it hadn't ever seemed like an issue before. Each knock to his confidence and every chip in his self-esteem had taken a tiny little little piece of him. Pasting over the cracks by insisting that everything was fine and that he was enjoying this lifestyle had eventually caught up. Like constructing a building without filling in the cracks in the walls, eventually the combined total structural weakness will render the building susceptible to even a gentle wind. Crack by crack, he'd been weakened to such an extent that now didn't stand a chance.

His eyes could see the glorious sunshine and hear the same morning-after birdsong as before. But in his mind, a relentless cold crept into every little part of him. There was no warmth in his life; no sunshine to warm him, no birdsong to help him think. The gentle tapping noise that he had carried with him everywhere previously, was now a loud banging noise, pounding, crashing and thudding inside his head. The pressure was so immense, it caused him physical pain. His emaciated self looked back at him from his bathroom mirror. The disgusting sight which met his eyes made his skin crawl. Fat and greed looked into his eyes as he descended deeper into the violent inside. The lock on the door would hold the world at bay for a while, but not forever. They had beaten him and taken everything from him, would they not now leave him to die in peace?

The night before, he had lain in his bed and could hear the revelry below. The noise of love, happiness and enjoyment. The pounding inside was blinding. He could hear the old Dave screaming in pain as he was ripped to pieces, clinically dissected and examined for every flaw and weakness. He was crying inside and being chained up here, alone. He wanted to join them, but the chains that bound him to this miserable existence were too strong. They were criticising him for what he was becoming, but it was their weaponry that was doing the damage. They were cursing his name and starting to abandon him. But he was a monster of their creation. And just as Frankenstein despised his creation, they looked in disappointed disgust at the man they used to know.

His vocal chords were coarse and raw with the yelling inside. But it made no difference. His old life was collapsing around him and there was nothing he could do. Forced to watch from inside his own head. As he sat in bed, the last tear running down his cheek, seeing the last scraps of everything he used to have slip beyond reach, a bit more of him died. The night would be a long one. And the morning would not come to his rescue.

He hated the world. Why did he have to live this life? He wanted to start a fire and watch everything and everyone burn. He wanted the world to wither and die, painfully and slowly. To listen as their mocking laughter gave way to screams of hurt and pain. To watch as they lost everything, the way he had. To watch them bask in the glory of their holy disease.

It was late in the day when he woke. The words from last night made him smile. 2 years ago he'd have awoken in a vicious fury at the thought that she wanted someone else. But now the whole idea gave him a feeling of pity. They were all stuck in their same, never ending cycle. The warming body next to him had long gone from his life. The inward torment was lessening now and the throbbing and pounding in his mind had subsided somewhat. In the last year he had completely reverse engineered himself, had undone a lifetime of personal growth and had started again. With all of his old daemons excised, he could live his life without the drives and desires that caused everyone else to act so selfishly. He had risen above his former self.

The love and joy he used to feel were long gone, and even the anger and hatred had began to transform into pity. Everyone had continued their lives in his absence. Although it appeared that things were very different now to how they used to be, the patterns had continued. The drink, the drama, the problems. Nothing really changes.

The wheels that had been set in motion 2 years ago, were finally grinding to a halt. As the hour glass began to empty, he started to look at the world differently. It was not his world in which to live. In the same way humans watching ants would consider their problems trivial and insignificant, so he could see that the life he used to life, their life, was very much the same. He had been liberated from his life and could breathe clearly for the first time in his life.

He'd never tell them, because they'd either not care, or they'd blame themselves. But his swan song was nearing its completion. It wasn't out of pity or selfishness that he had to complete his work. But he didn't appreciate the life he was being forced to lead. He would leave this world by his own hand. And in his eternal absence, he hoped that they might one day come to understand. At the moment, they didn't see how badly corrupted the world really is. There was good, yes. But existence favours the selfish. And if its burn or be burned, then sometimes, self-incineration was the only way to win.

As the clock continues to tick, I wish you all the very best