plasmawisp6633
Smash Journeyman
- Joined
- Mar 28, 2006
- Messages
- 398
This is my first WWYP in a while; don't crucify me.
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You know, it’s not often that you wake up in the morning to a thunderstorm. It’s not exactly a rude awakening, just interesting. To come out of a dream state to such excitement, it’s invigorating. The best part is, as I already mentioned, it doesn’t happen all the time, so it’s just easier to appreciate. It’s like hearing that song you haven’t heard in a while. It’s a special time, staring at the lightning on a Sunday morning; just you and the rain…and no one else. I felt it would be a good day, but even thunderstorms are unpredictable.
Finally I had a break from the stressful week. Monotony seemed to float in my coffee every morning. Excitement had taken a back seat for a long time now; doing filing for an entire office building for eight hours a day, five days a week is enough to make you want to climb to the roof and jump off the edge, or at least scream for five minutes.
What’s worse is that it’s a job that is so robotic, I tend to perform it subconsciously while hurling my thoughts around for hours…my terrible and horrible thoughts. This isn’t what I wanted. I want someone to care for me. Why did she leave me? Was I smart enough to get through college? Why am I working? Why should I give a shit about money anyways? A lobotomy sounds like a good idea at that point.
Home is only a small relief from the business world. Living alone is bothersome, especially when you have only your crappy little TV or radio to keep you company...and even they preach the same thing over and over. I know all the answers on Jeopardy because I’ve watched it every night for five years, except the nights when the president has to give a speech about the next crisis that hit the country. The only thing that keeps changing is my book collection. Virginia Woolf, Ernest Hemmingway, Hunter S. Thompson…the list keeps growing. But otherwise, I am trapped. This water torture of a life is dripping away at my sanity more and more, and it is not appearing to be running out any time soon.
This particular morning served as a nice break from the routine. First I stared through my window from my bed for about an hour. The thing about thunderstorms is that they change every second. The lightning or thunder from three seconds ago wouldn’t be the same as the next one coming up. I got up and decided that watching wasn’t enough; I had to go into this storm.
A walk in the park on Sunday morning is usually a routine thing for most people. For me, the conditions were perfect. The thunder had stopped and the rain was now coming down much lighter. The park was dry of people due to the rain. I sat down on a bench to think.
I kept thinking about her. Julia had left me three weeks ago without a single sign or notice, even after we had lived together for five months. I traced back every single step our relationship ever made and tried to find a falter, a trip or a slip in the tracks, but I never found any. When she was down, I made her feel better; when she was hungry, I went to fetch food; when she was horny, I’d arouse her. I was crazy over her. She was the break in my monotony; the rainstorm to my sky. Our minds were parallels, as well as our lives. We even met in the rain which proved to be sacred to us both for the same reasons. Her leaving was like filling the water-torture tank again. I thought about it for way too long.
You know, the Romantics of the 19th century felt that water had a type of healing power. I remember reading about Victor Frankenstein lying in a boat contemplating his problems; where his were much worse than mine. The Romantics may have been right. The rain and fog proved to be the perfect isolation, really. This was a different isolation than that which came from my job. People seemed to build a wall of impersonality between each other because they didn’t feel like talking. This isolation, on the other hand, was comfortable. The fog helped to cover the city and all of its dismalness. No people around to ignore you; no tall buildings to make you feel insignificant. The rain adhered to my skin, embracing me. I felt alive in the moisture.
Just when I thought I was alone in my euphoria, she came along. Julia sat at the bench across from me and said nothing. We both had our heads down, staring blankly at the cobblestone walkway that separated us. The dripping sound of water off the surrounding trees made me smile, and I finally spoke up.
“You must’ve expected me to be here, huh?”
“I had a hunch. Besides, there’s no better place to walk in the rain than this park.” She paused to feel the rain slightly dampen her long brown hair. She made a feeble attempt at small-talk, “So, what have you been up to?”
“Oh, you know, same shit; different day. Although, I gatta admit that you’re the first person to ask me a meaningful question in a long time…I miss that.” I was practically begging for sympathy.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said not exactly answering my plea. I could tell that she was attempting to avoid gazing at the pink elephant in the room. “Has work been going steady?”
“I tend not to work as much as I think. My thoughts only seem to give me troubles”
“Well, they always say that in times of trouble, you can always seek healing.” I expected her to smile, but she kept staring down at the cobblestone. She seemed to be enjoying the rain more than my company.
I was sick of small talk at this point. I bit the bullet and wandered toward the obvious question.
“You know, every human desires healing in times of trouble. This rain…this rain is everything I could have asked for on a Sunday morning because it assuages my soul, but it doesn’t heal it. It can’t love me like another person can, and it can’t tell me that everything is okay, because it’s not. What I need are answers.” I crossed the walkway and sat down on the bench next to her. I forced eye contact.
“Why did you leave me Julia? Why didn’t you show any signs of unhappiness? Was there something wrong that I wasn’t aware of? Did you leave me for another man?”
“I’m surprised that you haven’t realized it yet. You always told me how you hate routine, but you failed to realize that you became exactly what you hated. It was always ‘same shit, different day’ with you because you refused to change. Instead, you swept me up as part of your dreaded routine. You claimed you were content, but you had way too much of a pessimistic view on life. It pained me badly to leave you, because there was a little thought in the back of my mind that thought you might commit suicide.”
She struck a deep chord and I was tense inside. The rain had stopped completely. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of your concerns? I would change if I were aware.”
She became indignant, “That’s bullshit and you know it. You wouldn’t change for anyone, not even me when I told you that your life was heading to a dead-end. Instead, you just wanted to wait until it rained again so you could temporarily forget about your life.” She started to cry and added, “But not even rainstorms can last forever.”
I was left speechless for a while. It had swiftly cleared up and rays of sunlight speared through the clouds. I sighed with discouragement, “…I guess you’re right.” I slowly walked away, emotionless. She didn’t try to say anything as went, but I heard her sobbing.
I tried reading that night, but couldn’t. The morning’s events ate away at my mind like termites at wood. My mind constantly tossed around the idea that she might have been right, but never came closer to an answer. I found that answers did not free me from my entrapment, but only furthered my sentence. I glanced outside; the shining sun mocked my life with each illumination of this routine and boring world. Same shit, different day, I thought. Tears flowing down my face, I buried my head into my pillow and prayed for rain.
----
Note: I'm aware that my main character has no name; and I prefer to keep it that way.
----
You know, it’s not often that you wake up in the morning to a thunderstorm. It’s not exactly a rude awakening, just interesting. To come out of a dream state to such excitement, it’s invigorating. The best part is, as I already mentioned, it doesn’t happen all the time, so it’s just easier to appreciate. It’s like hearing that song you haven’t heard in a while. It’s a special time, staring at the lightning on a Sunday morning; just you and the rain…and no one else. I felt it would be a good day, but even thunderstorms are unpredictable.
Finally I had a break from the stressful week. Monotony seemed to float in my coffee every morning. Excitement had taken a back seat for a long time now; doing filing for an entire office building for eight hours a day, five days a week is enough to make you want to climb to the roof and jump off the edge, or at least scream for five minutes.
What’s worse is that it’s a job that is so robotic, I tend to perform it subconsciously while hurling my thoughts around for hours…my terrible and horrible thoughts. This isn’t what I wanted. I want someone to care for me. Why did she leave me? Was I smart enough to get through college? Why am I working? Why should I give a shit about money anyways? A lobotomy sounds like a good idea at that point.
Home is only a small relief from the business world. Living alone is bothersome, especially when you have only your crappy little TV or radio to keep you company...and even they preach the same thing over and over. I know all the answers on Jeopardy because I’ve watched it every night for five years, except the nights when the president has to give a speech about the next crisis that hit the country. The only thing that keeps changing is my book collection. Virginia Woolf, Ernest Hemmingway, Hunter S. Thompson…the list keeps growing. But otherwise, I am trapped. This water torture of a life is dripping away at my sanity more and more, and it is not appearing to be running out any time soon.
This particular morning served as a nice break from the routine. First I stared through my window from my bed for about an hour. The thing about thunderstorms is that they change every second. The lightning or thunder from three seconds ago wouldn’t be the same as the next one coming up. I got up and decided that watching wasn’t enough; I had to go into this storm.
A walk in the park on Sunday morning is usually a routine thing for most people. For me, the conditions were perfect. The thunder had stopped and the rain was now coming down much lighter. The park was dry of people due to the rain. I sat down on a bench to think.
I kept thinking about her. Julia had left me three weeks ago without a single sign or notice, even after we had lived together for five months. I traced back every single step our relationship ever made and tried to find a falter, a trip or a slip in the tracks, but I never found any. When she was down, I made her feel better; when she was hungry, I went to fetch food; when she was horny, I’d arouse her. I was crazy over her. She was the break in my monotony; the rainstorm to my sky. Our minds were parallels, as well as our lives. We even met in the rain which proved to be sacred to us both for the same reasons. Her leaving was like filling the water-torture tank again. I thought about it for way too long.
You know, the Romantics of the 19th century felt that water had a type of healing power. I remember reading about Victor Frankenstein lying in a boat contemplating his problems; where his were much worse than mine. The Romantics may have been right. The rain and fog proved to be the perfect isolation, really. This was a different isolation than that which came from my job. People seemed to build a wall of impersonality between each other because they didn’t feel like talking. This isolation, on the other hand, was comfortable. The fog helped to cover the city and all of its dismalness. No people around to ignore you; no tall buildings to make you feel insignificant. The rain adhered to my skin, embracing me. I felt alive in the moisture.
Just when I thought I was alone in my euphoria, she came along. Julia sat at the bench across from me and said nothing. We both had our heads down, staring blankly at the cobblestone walkway that separated us. The dripping sound of water off the surrounding trees made me smile, and I finally spoke up.
“You must’ve expected me to be here, huh?”
“I had a hunch. Besides, there’s no better place to walk in the rain than this park.” She paused to feel the rain slightly dampen her long brown hair. She made a feeble attempt at small-talk, “So, what have you been up to?”
“Oh, you know, same shit; different day. Although, I gatta admit that you’re the first person to ask me a meaningful question in a long time…I miss that.” I was practically begging for sympathy.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said not exactly answering my plea. I could tell that she was attempting to avoid gazing at the pink elephant in the room. “Has work been going steady?”
“I tend not to work as much as I think. My thoughts only seem to give me troubles”
“Well, they always say that in times of trouble, you can always seek healing.” I expected her to smile, but she kept staring down at the cobblestone. She seemed to be enjoying the rain more than my company.
I was sick of small talk at this point. I bit the bullet and wandered toward the obvious question.
“You know, every human desires healing in times of trouble. This rain…this rain is everything I could have asked for on a Sunday morning because it assuages my soul, but it doesn’t heal it. It can’t love me like another person can, and it can’t tell me that everything is okay, because it’s not. What I need are answers.” I crossed the walkway and sat down on the bench next to her. I forced eye contact.
“Why did you leave me Julia? Why didn’t you show any signs of unhappiness? Was there something wrong that I wasn’t aware of? Did you leave me for another man?”
“I’m surprised that you haven’t realized it yet. You always told me how you hate routine, but you failed to realize that you became exactly what you hated. It was always ‘same shit, different day’ with you because you refused to change. Instead, you swept me up as part of your dreaded routine. You claimed you were content, but you had way too much of a pessimistic view on life. It pained me badly to leave you, because there was a little thought in the back of my mind that thought you might commit suicide.”
She struck a deep chord and I was tense inside. The rain had stopped completely. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of your concerns? I would change if I were aware.”
She became indignant, “That’s bullshit and you know it. You wouldn’t change for anyone, not even me when I told you that your life was heading to a dead-end. Instead, you just wanted to wait until it rained again so you could temporarily forget about your life.” She started to cry and added, “But not even rainstorms can last forever.”
I was left speechless for a while. It had swiftly cleared up and rays of sunlight speared through the clouds. I sighed with discouragement, “…I guess you’re right.” I slowly walked away, emotionless. She didn’t try to say anything as went, but I heard her sobbing.
I tried reading that night, but couldn’t. The morning’s events ate away at my mind like termites at wood. My mind constantly tossed around the idea that she might have been right, but never came closer to an answer. I found that answers did not free me from my entrapment, but only furthered my sentence. I glanced outside; the shining sun mocked my life with each illumination of this routine and boring world. Same shit, different day, I thought. Tears flowing down my face, I buried my head into my pillow and prayed for rain.
----
Note: I'm aware that my main character has no name; and I prefer to keep it that way.
