Dec 2011
The stifling darkness chokes my senses to the point at which I can't differentiate between the sounds of water dropping from branches and the moisture falling from the edge of my chin onto the crumpled leaves strewn around my feet.
Crickets and assorted bugs I couldn't dream of naming pierce the dark with their high-pitched keening, and the occasional large displacement of rainwater from above reminds me of my childhood fear of the dark.
These methodical observations cascading through my mind calm the frazzled maelstrom my emotions currently resemble.
The borrowed boots I threw on, before flinging the door open to make my escape into the dark alternate reality of the night, confine my feet in an unusual way; my toes slamming into the fronts as I walk downhill; the soles of my feet slide back and forth as I trip over the branches and stumps hidden from my eyes by the thick blindfold of night.
I crumple, much like the leaves at my feet, onto a slightly damp fallen tree and close my eyes; more from habit than to block out the non-existent light. The bark feels somewhat grimy under the hand I recline upon, but the chaos gripping my mind occupies my attention; therefore I have no brain capacity to decide if the slimy surface warrants a relocation on my part.
I direct my full attention inward and examine my uncharacteristically jumbled emotional cloud. Angry reds and blacks flash into exisitence, before extinguishing to reveal sickly yellow veins underneath before lighting again. As the time between the red and black explosions increases, a melancholy dark blue smog coats the inner recesses of my mind like a fuzzy wallpaper and rug combo. The cloud of emotion has dissipated, leaving only dark green wisps of calm in it's wake.
This writing seems to have calmed my inner turmoil; I accept the loss of a piece of me and mourn it's destruction. I'm left without the energy to pick up the artistic utensils I would use to recreate this piece sacrificed against my will.
Hopefully, I will regain the motivation in the morning. But for now, I shall make my way back through the slick stumps and crumpled leaves to my bed and pass the time till then in dreams.
Crickets and assorted bugs I couldn't dream of naming pierce the dark with their high-pitched keening, and the occasional large displacement of rainwater from above reminds me of my childhood fear of the dark.
These methodical observations cascading through my mind calm the frazzled maelstrom my emotions currently resemble.
The borrowed boots I threw on, before flinging the door open to make my escape into the dark alternate reality of the night, confine my feet in an unusual way; my toes slamming into the fronts as I walk downhill; the soles of my feet slide back and forth as I trip over the branches and stumps hidden from my eyes by the thick blindfold of night.
I crumple, much like the leaves at my feet, onto a slightly damp fallen tree and close my eyes; more from habit than to block out the non-existent light. The bark feels somewhat grimy under the hand I recline upon, but the chaos gripping my mind occupies my attention; therefore I have no brain capacity to decide if the slimy surface warrants a relocation on my part.
I direct my full attention inward and examine my uncharacteristically jumbled emotional cloud. Angry reds and blacks flash into exisitence, before extinguishing to reveal sickly yellow veins underneath before lighting again. As the time between the red and black explosions increases, a melancholy dark blue smog coats the inner recesses of my mind like a fuzzy wallpaper and rug combo. The cloud of emotion has dissipated, leaving only dark green wisps of calm in it's wake.
This writing seems to have calmed my inner turmoil; I accept the loss of a piece of me and mourn it's destruction. I'm left without the energy to pick up the artistic utensils I would use to recreate this piece sacrificed against my will.
Hopefully, I will regain the motivation in the morning. But for now, I shall make my way back through the slick stumps and crumpled leaves to my bed and pass the time till then in dreams.
Little bit of prose
