tintreachtoirneach
There are some days you wake up and instantly something is wrong - you have a cold, a dry throat, you're late or just achey. Then you stand on a plug or trip over a shoe and things just go downhill - you burn yourself with coffee, miss the bus and step in a puddle and then you bump into your ex - the icing on the cake.
Taking two steps forward to be thrown and pushed and shoved to the ground, to the way the world appears from behind the mask. The mask of lies and fears and dreams lost. The nightmares that won't go away and the terrors that follow you through the day, the skeletons in the closet just waiting to come out.
The sun was beaming down onto the grey footpath, throngs of people either side rushing to get home to bask in the bright light of the UV rays. I was the one taking my time, slowing drifting through the crowds, absorbing the frenzied looks on their faces. The same kind of emotion that they portray when the rain is pounding down upon their heads. Maybe the weather is irrelevant, maybe they just frenzy in the evening in a desperate attempt to run from the jobs they wish they never got.
The farce of it all, and the comical, over-zealous expressions on their faces; the way they never seemed to shed their grins, or bat an eyelid, or show any kind of emotion that wasn't painted on. I wished I was like that, I wished I was able to hide everything beneath a mask, because as of late my mask has slipped, and my sleeves are becoming dripping with more and more emotions. Soon they'll start to peel away and show everything underneath.
The moon waning through the clouds was something magical. It was like one of those movies where some random girl walks out into the darkness of a forest and stares wistfully up into the sky. I was sat at my window, smoking, looking out and thinking of what'd happen if I fell and if I'd ever be able to scale the wall up to the roof.
It was all about me on the surface. Everything. Conversations all focused around me and how I was feeling, how I was emotionally. How many aches and pains I woke up with that day. How many times I cried; how many flashbacks I got. Everything. But in reality; it was all you. I jumped, I ran, I changed. It might have been about me on the surface, but underneath I was running around in circles and jumping through hoops for you - because if I didn't; you'd be just a name on my phone.
The plane was ambling along and the passengers were settling into their pre-flight positions; tables up, chairs up, gripping onto the arm rest, closing their eyes, breathing heavily, deeply. In. Out. In. Out. It's all going to be okay. Don't panic.
The sound shook right through me; it was unlike any noise I had ever hear before and it was one that resonated with an abstract horror. It reminded me of the gutwrenching screams the females in horror stories let out, just when they find the killer hiding behind the bushes...but this was no film, it was real, and the sound of his scream is something I will never forget, and hopefully never witness again.
It was getting harder and harder to wear it. The mask I'd fashioned out of fake smiles and flashes of teeth the way someone expects me to. The way they expect me to laugh and smile and say "I'm okay, don't worry."
The smell is enough to send me soaring into pain, the odour akin to one of sewerage, the headiness more overpowering than the way coffee shops in Amsterdam take over your senses as soon as you open the door.
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writing since 2011 · 34 entries · 34 days shown up
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