Another Voice

“What are you doing?”

Hearing a random voice would startle most people, but he just sat up in bed in a very nonchalant manner.

“What?”

“I said, “What are you doing”?” The voice sounded annoyed.

“Oh. Well, I’m just trying to get some sleep.”

“Ah, another lazy night in, eh? Seems like you’ve been wasting a lot of time lately.”

With reluctance to answer the question, he started glancing around the room to see if this was really happening.

“Well, I’ve been pretty busy lately and can’t afford to get sick. What’s it to you?”

A low growling sound could be heard coming from the walls.

“How dare you take a tone with me?”

The room felt thick as the voice intensified.

“Dude, I don’t even know who you are.”

“You know who I am!” The voice hissed.

“Well, you sure as hell aren’t that other voice that talks to me.”

“It’s funny you mention hell.” Chuckled the entity.

Before I speak, I have something important to say.

The alarm clock wakes me up, but I close my eyes and try to fall back asleep. Why can't I be this tired when it's time to go to bed? Instead of sleeping I spend the late minutes of the night and sometimes the wee hours of the morning staring at the ceiling.

Reading offers no solace because it all looks jumbled at 4am and I usually start seeing disturbing images in the words like an inkblot test. Maybe I'm Batman or Jack the Ripper or "Groucho" Marx.

The TV is usually only playing infomercials where that guy runs in place on his funny little contraption. He runs the way I would imagine a two legged gazelle would run. I wonder if he knows that his hair was never in style and that there's no real point to yelling at toned, spandex-wearing women who have come to the future from the 80's, maybe this commercial is just that old.

For some reason the radio station seems to be playing techno and I drift back to sleep. The club is dark and the women are all naked. Some girl in bondage approaches me, she proceeds to bend me over her knee and starts spanking me to the beat of the music. As I struggle to escape she keeps yelling at me to clean my room. Finally, I break free, but I'm naturally running in slow motion, maybe it's just the strobe lights or maybe I'm just doing the robot. When I look back to see if I'm being pursued, she's become my mother.

We embrace, she melts. Maybe Freud was right.

Life, Love and Seperation: a story told through haikus

I understand love
Maybe I should get married
To understand hate

-

Let us become one
Guilt trip and manipulate
Till death do us part

-

When I said “I do”
Forever was just a word
Not reality

-

Love at first sight? Eh.
Lust at first fuck? You know it!
Left at first chance? Yes!!!

-

Now it’s all over
No regrets come to my mind
But staying so long

Feel the Burn

I’ve been thinking a lot about pain lately. It’s come up in many conversations and it seems to be a current theme with a lot of people that I care about, but then again, when is it not? It’s fucking everywhere. We all have heartbreaking stories of loss. That seems to be all that pain really is in a sense, a loss of something. People die, get divorced, lose their jobs, cut ties, etc, etc, etc

My philosophy lately has been to face it, accept it, let it all in, let it consume you, but just for a while though. Everyone handles pain differently. I’m quite the extravert so I try and talk it out. If it’s really bad I do tend to go inside my shell. One of my friends laughs nervously when he’s discussing a painful situation. Others obviously cry and some just don’t face it at all. I kind of don’t blame them.

Pain builds character though, if we let it. It causes growth if that’s what we want, but it can also unfortunately define you, if you let it.

As hard as things can get sometimes, I never want to let myself be defined by pain and loss.