I have not logged in here in a while. I guess I have not wrote much at all. The other day I came up with an idea to use Pandora's Box from Greek Myths in a story about a Lawyer who opened 3 different boxes only to unleash 3 different types of pain and suffering into his life and the people's lives around them.
I do not really want to relieve that for now. Maybe later. I am not in a spirit for that now.
This below is just ideas. Nothing more then more of my scribbles and scratches.
Tip the ledge.
Broken and cracked up.
Shinning through the curtain slits.
Windows of the soul.
Broken down and stitched up with borrowed time.
Last moment of fear.
Held together by rage.
Taste your own death.
Darkened memory wants to pay you a visit.
Silly child wants to laugh at your pain.
Bad old day.
Came up to late with greeting cards.
Bad excuse
Bad taste in my mouth
Bad little boy with his hands in his pockets
White Crayon
By ;
Jessica Singleton
A fictional short story
" I'm living in a silent film. " - David Bowie ,
( Quick Sand )
" What I lost was an ocean. " - David Gilmour
( A boat Lies waiting )
Sometimes I spend my time looking at the wall for no reason. I just sit there and stare at the wall in my room. I do not have anywhere to go. It is not that I cannot get up and just walk out. It is that I do not think that anyone just walks out on their own life.
A few days ago I moved into a new home. I can say that now I have a home. I could never have said that before. I was born into the world and I lived in this world but I have never had a home to go home to. When I was a child , it always felt like I was on a clock. The way it feels when something is about happen that you dread. Like you are in line for some dreadful moment. A moment that slides by to another day. When I was an adult, my chance was always five minutes to late or missed me altogether.
I got a new job. I finally did my time in the books and I got my first check. I put it down on a new home. I did not do anything the first night there. It was nice to not be on someone else's clock.
I lit a candle. I put in a CD. Not loud enough to where the neighbors would want to meet me. Just so I could hear it. I sat in a chair that I own and I just stared at the wall. I drew a hot bath and I drank tea until I went to bed.
Have you ever just not wanted to know something ? No one wants their mind wiped like a table top. To just not deal with something for a moment. It is not much to ask. Only a monster would ask you to feel pain for them. What you should ask them is do they want to feed off of your pain. No one can really understand you when you're inside of yourself. Can they? I think anyone would be able to answer that question when it is their turn in line.
Once I had a few days to enjoy the solitude, I finally got back to life. How could anyone say such things ? As though you are not doing what you are supposed to be doing. Just because you will not hurry up and die.
Someone wanted to know why I had not gone through with the surgery. I had not found a doctor that was suitable. You have to find a doctor for the right health problem. Those are hard to come by. I did find one. He fixed me and I had no more problems. I did not die. I did not die within weeks of it, due to complications. I did not come out worse then before I went in.
I got back to life. My own life. I went to work when I had to. I went home when I had to. I went out and I made friends. I even dated. God forbid right?
It is funny how when you're a child, you have a color in the box for everything. Then you have the one crayon that does not show up anywhere unless the paper is black. Then it is the only color that shows up.
Life is like that. Paint sets that stain the pallet but never show the secrets that our pain keeps. And when it does, then nothing can go with it. You truly are alone.
So to speak in darkness....
The End
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