I laid on my bedroom floor for hours, listening to Pink Floyd, trying to keep my mind perfectly blank. I’m so tired that keeping my eyes open is almost a chore. I know I have to tell her. And I will when the opportunity presents itself. My feelings refuse to put themselves into words. They’re sturggling against me, and I am losing. Let’s see if I can use a different method of description. My chest hurts, my eyes burn, and I can’t move. I don’t need to move. So why move? I think I’ll just stay here and listen to Pink Floyd. Even if I don’t like them at first, I will learn to love them. Because he loves them. Because she loves them. And that’s enough for me.
~
I told her. Yes, I was crying. Not because of what I told her, not because of him, but because of everything that coerced me into telling her. The topics that came before, that had nothing to do with him. I bottle it up–one things after another after another after another. I cried because it’s not fair. Frustration might be the word. Yes, it is the right word. The Pink Floyd got really loud. It’s probably just me. I’m shaking again. Anxiety. Don’t make me move. I just want to lay here, on my bedroom floor listening to the msuic he gave me, and I’ll never listen to anything else.
~
Tears stain my pillowcase now. I knew this would happen. I’ve felt it for days. Everyone has their limit and I’ve reached mine. Of course I start crying. Then I cry for hours, everything invoking a stream of saline down my face. I should have known it was close–it happened first last night when I was watching Disney channel. This old guy told Maddy he wanted to take her for hot chocolate and I burst into tears. Tiny things that remind me of the things piling on my mind. Stress. Everyone pitted against everyone else, Darwin’s theories haunting our every move, leaving a bad taste in my mouth. A bitter taste. The hatred bred by competition makes me sick. It’s not worth it. There’s always a loser, even if it’s absolutely horrible.
~
Tired. I want to sleep, but I’ve got her on speaker phone. Still playing Pink Floyd. Mentally exhausted, physically distressed. It’s raining outside, storming, raging. It went from bright to dark, similar to my mood. But I don’t feel anything. I’m tired. Just tired.
You’ve reached your limit. You’ll rage and mourn, then lift you chin, set your shoulders, and move ahead. There are no limits, only walls, and walls can be breached.
Breaching walls is what makes us who we are–we never break the same wall the same way as someone else.
i wounder if your to smart for your own good it would have all been easier if you would just let me control you lol im joking i hope you get out of your mental depression because when your sad im sad and i live to see you smile
This is a great line:
The hatred bred by competition makes me sick. It’s not worth it. There’s always a loser, even if it’s absolutely horrible.
I think you have signed on to our class Ning. Get your mind of “him” and come produce some art with us!
Check out a song called Us and Them by Pink Floyd. It some how makes sense:
Us and Them
And after all we’re only ordinary men
Me, and you
God only knows it’s not what we would choose to do
Forward he cried from the rear
and the front rank died
And the General sat, as the lines on the map
moved from side to side
Black and Blue
And who knows which is which and who is who
Up and Down
And in the end it’s only round and round and round
Haven’t you heard it’s a battle of words
the poster bearer cried
Listen son, said the man with the gun
There’s room for you inside
Down and Out
It can’t be helped but there’s a lot of it about
With, without
And who’ll deny that’s what the fightings all about
Get out of the way, it’s a busy day
And I’ve got things on my mind
For want of the price of tea and a slice
The old man died
@Daniel: I wasn’t in a “mental depression” but after you deal with so much crap, you can’t take it anymore. And you end up like me, laying on the floor, crying, and listening to Pink Floyd. Because I’m a loser. And yes, I love Pink Floyd now.
@Intrepidteacher: The “him” thing wasn’t bad. The lyrics to that song are so amazing and I can’t even tell you–it does make sense. I’m ready to “produce some art”. *grin* I’m waiting for free time to come around.