October 2008

Hazy Shade of Winter

It's been about two weeks now where I have just been craving to write. But about what? The immense heartache of loosing not only my love but also my best friend, and my partner in crime to there own selfishness? Or do I write about how amazing it is to feel your emotions begin to heal because you have met this new incredible force that completely blind sides you just as you are beginning to give up? Both sound like the beginnings of an easy write, right? However, my problem is merely this, I cannot bring myself to write another story about love lost then found again. My brain is in a spin with its own creativity and overactive thoughts, which is driving me to the edge of insanity. I either lock myself in my apartment or take a walk in the cold at an obscene hour of night. I have become a recluse avoiding all possible socially interactive activities that do not pay me. I intentionally leave my phone at home when I know I have made plans when the thought of having to step out side my head and interact face to face with other people makes me physically ill. So I walk the streets alone with headphones on blasting the same song on repeat for and hour. Wandering the streets of where I live feeling the cold fall air on my face, and smelling the onset of winter. I wonder what happens in these houses, who is living there and what is their life like. Is any one sitting down to dinner? Do families even eat dinner together any more? Is the captain of the football team telling his parents how he scored the winning touch down or is he sitting in his friends basement telling them which girl he's going to get drunk and "score" with this Friday night? Is the tortured artist able to show her parents the new painting she is working on that is inspired by Andy Warhol, or is she up in her room with a razor to her wrist wondering why her parents don't see her at all? And is the romantic young musician serenading his girlfriend with the new song he wrote for her on the floor in her bedroom, or is he driving around aimlessly sobbing listening to his new mix tape of songs about heartache because the girl he loves laughed at him when he gave it to her? Regardless of what is happening inside these houses as I pass them I feel love, pain, fear, happiness, and laughter from every one of them and I have never felt so lonely and I have no idea how to feel anything different.