~OutDated~

I was a new soul dropped into this world and I had no idea what I was doing. I had so many paths to choose from, I went along with whatever I came across. This time, I chose to get up from the hard wood and started along a new path. I needed to start getting home I supposed, as that’s what you’re supposed to do when you’ve finished your errands and had a nice sit-down. Right? So after this reawakening, I put in my earphones and I dreamily made my way home.

I walked over a bridge and smiled at an elderly man who I passed. I don’t usually do that though, I find strangers weird. He smiled back. It felt so strange and I wondered if anyone else had smiled at him today. Certainly, no one had smiled at me today. I continued walking, the sun still high and bright, I lost myself in the music playing through my ears. It was one of my favourites. There’s just something about the harmony that gives me goosebumps. It filled me with this cathartic feeling, letting go of the tensed feelings within me. It also crushed me, my heart clenched along with the melancholic tune. As the melody went on and faded out, so did my thoughts.

Oh, I missed the harmony. So I picked up my phone and restarted the song. I walked across the street, not looking if a car was coming. It was this fun, little game I like to play. I chant “hit me, hit me, hit me,” as I walk across. If I did get hit, I could probably get some money out of it. Drivers are always so reckless around here. There were many times before this when I had almost been hit. Unfortunately, they stopped in time and got angry at me. I don’t know when I started playing this little game, or why. I suppose I just didn’t care enough for myself, or I felt indestructible. Crap, I missed it again. I restarted the song.

I walked down the street and passed one of my friend’s houses. We hadn’t spoken in a while, I wondered how she would react if I just went and knocked for her. It wasn’t so strange to do that, right? Our friendship is quite rocky I must admit, for myself at least. I don’t know how she feels about it, we don’t talk about it. Maybe I should have gone to say hello, or something. But by the time I decided to maybe do so, I had already walked a few steps ahead and I didn’t want to turn back. So maybe next time. I missed my favourite part again...I restarted the song.

The walk home was never pleasant for me. The area always looked unrecognisable to me, even though I had been living here for quite some time. It wasn’t a place that I saw as my home. Also, no matter how I dressed for the weather and accommodated myself, I always ended up sweating through my clothes! I walked slower, I wore less constricting clothing, better fabrics, but no! I don’t know what I was doing wrong. The path was up a hill, and it was exhausting. I wish I had a car. I always get jealous of all the people who drive past me. They don’t know how tired I am. Fuck! Here comes the melody again. I stopped it and skipped to the next song. I was getting sick of it. Then I skipped to the next one, then again, and again...I couldn’t be satisfied. For the lack of my better judgment, I got out a cigarette and lit it. So much for better health, I had thought. The first blow felt good, but the following ones were just unsatisfying. Smoking is gross if I’m honest. It just made me think of all the bad people in my life, and how now we shared a common activity. So I decided to call my dad, it had been a while since we last spoke so I had some things to catch him up on. School, life, plans for the future, etc. It took a few rings but he answered.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s up?” He asked, though his voice sounded rushed,

“Oh, nothing much! Just on my way home, dad. How are you?” I always started my conversations like this. I felt guilty for calling out of the blue, “are you busy?” I added.

“Not really, I’m alright. Just at work. Did you need something?” He always asked.

“No, I just thought I’d call. It had been a while,” again. I inhaled the smoke into my lungs.

“Right okay, what’s on your mind?” Again. Exhaling, I felt like throwing up.

“Well, I was in town today, ran some errands. I finally have some plans for the summer. Will be joining some friends on a camping trip-”

“That’s really nice! Listen, how’s your economy? I’ll see if I can send you some money later this week,” I could hear how he was rushing himself. Again. The smoke danced between my fingers,

“No it’s fine, but thank you. I have-”

“Alright well, I’ll call you later! Gotta get back to work,” he finally said. We said our goodbye’s and he hung up. He never calls me back. Again. I couldn’t talk to him about anything but money anymore. My cigarette had burnt to the filter, so I threw it on the ground and continued walking. My head felt heavy and for the rest of the way home, I just floated.

Once I had finally made it into my apartment, after struggling with not being able to put the key into the lock right, I took off my shoes and sneezed. It was all that dust that had been collecting over the few weeks…I really needed to clean up. But what was the point of that? I was comfortable and there was no one who I was trying to impress. No one had been to my apartment in weeks. I hadn’t really made an effort to speak or keep in-person contact with anyone either. I don’t think anyone noticed though. Nobody notices anything. Yet I notice everything and I hated myself for it. So I wasn’t all too worried about the mess.

It was a simple, one-room apartment with a kitchen. It was pretty small, but enough for me. The walls were too white, I felt like I was in a hospital. The flooring was uneven, and it smelled like wet cardboard. Very unpleasant, but this is where life had led me to in the end. I didn’t deserve any better for now. As for the mess, there were papers on the floor and on the small table. Letters, appointment notices, notes, and pens hiding white marks on the table surface. Clothes that I hadn’t managed to put away littered the floor, so I just kicked them aside as I made my way to my desk. It is where I spent most of my time now. Staring at screens and every now and then watching the people through the window. Nobody noticed the staring though. I lived on the second floor of the building, well-hidden above everyone outside. I sat down and felt my whole body ache, I was exhausted. I supposed that I’d go eat something but honestly, the idea disgusted me. It didn’t satisfy me and all it did was add on unnecessary weight. The act of eating I found gross. The chewing, the food, the textures…I couldn’t handle it. So I just stared outside, as the heaven’s dimmed.

A pull to the outdoors lingered in me, how I hated being in this room. My chest rumbled as I thought of wanting to escape this place. Besides my better judgment, I got up and made new white marks on my small table. A pang jolted my body and I felt like I could finally do it. It all went by so fast and I had mapped out my plan of getting out of here! I needed a new path to walk…but why did I let myself end up so lonesome? I sat still and thought, my mind racing with ideas of where to go and what to do. The idea of starting anew, there was something wretched yet precious about it. Perhaps I needed to slow down. So I went for a cigarette on my balcony, where I watched the smoke fly away and taking my burdens with it. The night sky was as clear as it was during the day. I could see the dark blue and purple hues. The stars shone brightly, and they were loud. I felt so small underneath it all. Has there ever been any significance in my existence? Such a cliche, phony thought. Nothing more than some ponderings throughout teenage blues. I could imagine myself combusting right then and there all of a sudden, as my eyes stung on the brink of tears. You could say I was depressed but it felt way more than that. This burning feeling in my chest, which I mistook for heat melting my heart earlier in the day when really it was ice, ruining everything that I had worked so hard to obtain. Burning me harder, it was aching and I felt like a deer in the headlights. I tried to take a final, deep breath of fresh, night air before I stumbled back inside. My skin felt like it was on fire, it was unbearable but I knew I would face it as I always did.

I couldn’t really feel my arms anymore, but it wasn’t an unusual happening. I walked straight to my bed and laid down and thought that perhaps tomorrow will be the day I do something about it. But time went on and my head kept spinning, I felt so light until I felt my heart start to tighten and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. I held myself and I couldn’t breathe.

The pain in my chest left me writhing in my bed. It brought me back to the times in which I felt most vulnerable. When my mother would shout at me, when my friends would leave me for others and when every important thing in my life shattered. Is this it? My heart broke as each second passed, and my skin was on fire. I couldn’t feel the tears streaming down my face. Yet the hot, thick tears drenched me. I couldn’t hear my screams of agony. Yet my throat felt like it was burning and my lungs were being torn apart. Is this what it has all been about? My heart felt like it was being squeezed, all the life from it being wrenched out of my body. I clutched my arms around myself, holding myself together. I lay in my bed for what felt like days. The outside light constantly changing in front of my closed eyes. Then it all vanished. My head all of a sudden felt so clear, like a blue, summer’s sky. Relief. I couldn’t feel that pain anymore and I let out a steady breath. Was this what it was all about? The truth of pain, and how even after the worst things happen you can still survive? There must be some pattern here.