Why?
Something happened at Nick's party. I'm sure of it. Something happened to me. I just...disconnected. This lingering feeling of...discontent? It's there. Something happened, and I saw it with my eyes. With my eye. And I didn't believe it. Because only I believed it, and no one else did, and surely I said something? And there it was. And no one responded. As if it didn't happen. It happened right in front of them! Surely someone else saw it! Did it happen? I don't know. I just don't know.
And now so many thoughts circulate through my head, I don't know what to do with them. What do I do? What do I say? Can I even say anything? I've been thrown from a cliff, and if I don't flail the right way I'll land on someone. That's how I feel. If it does the same thing again, someone gets hurt, but if it doesn't...what does that say about me? About who I am? Surely mistakes were made, but...can it really be that I am infinitely less than I could have imagined?
I have this feeling that I have to run away. Don't get involved. Let it run its course. But that's cowardly. Isn't it? I saw something finally die. I was there for its last breath. And I knew the end was coming, I knew it. And I even said it to someone. Yet everyone said it couldn't be, everyone. Even the source. But it was all lies. Or blindness. I saw it coming, and when it happened, no one saw it but me.
On my way home today, I listened to Stay Forever by Ween. And for three minutes and thirty-three seconds, I was there. I was truly there. I was in that other world, that perfect place that music can take you for short bursts of time, that place where you can just be and you can exist in such a state forever. Where love is exactly the way it's supposed to be, where everyone knows who they're meant for and the harshness of reality doesn't intrude. I see it in my sleep sometimes. That's probably why I'm an insomniac. I don't sleep because if I sleep for too long I go there. And leaving can be so painful. Sometimes I feel that if my body were to die while I was there that it would be a blessing. Or a curse. Is there a difference?
And now here I sit, afraid to go back to that place. But where else to run? Where else to hide from this thing that I have seen? And I dare not lead it to that last refuge. Such a thing would be catastrophe. It took only a glance, a split second of time to stumble so far. And now it stares me so dead in the eyes I wish I were blind. And no one else sees.
And now so many thoughts circulate through my head, I don't know what to do with them. What do I do? What do I say? Can I even say anything? I've been thrown from a cliff, and if I don't flail the right way I'll land on someone. That's how I feel. If it does the same thing again, someone gets hurt, but if it doesn't...what does that say about me? About who I am? Surely mistakes were made, but...can it really be that I am infinitely less than I could have imagined?
I have this feeling that I have to run away. Don't get involved. Let it run its course. But that's cowardly. Isn't it? I saw something finally die. I was there for its last breath. And I knew the end was coming, I knew it. And I even said it to someone. Yet everyone said it couldn't be, everyone. Even the source. But it was all lies. Or blindness. I saw it coming, and when it happened, no one saw it but me.
On my way home today, I listened to Stay Forever by Ween. And for three minutes and thirty-three seconds, I was there. I was truly there. I was in that other world, that perfect place that music can take you for short bursts of time, that place where you can just be and you can exist in such a state forever. Where love is exactly the way it's supposed to be, where everyone knows who they're meant for and the harshness of reality doesn't intrude. I see it in my sleep sometimes. That's probably why I'm an insomniac. I don't sleep because if I sleep for too long I go there. And leaving can be so painful. Sometimes I feel that if my body were to die while I was there that it would be a blessing. Or a curse. Is there a difference?
And now here I sit, afraid to go back to that place. But where else to run? Where else to hide from this thing that I have seen? And I dare not lead it to that last refuge. Such a thing would be catastrophe. It took only a glance, a split second of time to stumble so far. And now it stares me so dead in the eyes I wish I were blind. And no one else sees.
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