Sometimes all you need is a second, a tiny fraction of time to take in your surroundings.
Aunt Jemima’s syrup… A hastily opened bag of plastic cups… A lamp sitting carelessly on a fold-able chair.
It’s these moments that give you the best look at how your life really is, like changing the lens on someone’s bifocals. Gunshots ringing in the background like hell itself in my ears…
I wish my brother would turn down the volume on the video games. Some of us have really important things to do… like watching TV show episodes online after their air dates…
Who would've known that staring blankly at strictly for show coasters would make feel so worthless…? I go to sleep, I wake up, and I do it all over again. My report card might have not brought the best results but if summer had a report card I assure you I’d get 100 in Monotony.
I’m a lazy, ambitious, complacent, prideful, slob. Who would want to deal with that? What college is going to sponsor that? I sure wouldn't. But it’s all okay, because next year I’ll be the best me there ever was. I've said that for the past 3 years…
My glasses look crooked; I should probably get contacts… Especially since I usually spend a good amount of time looking at things that’ll never even acknowledge me. Sometimes I just want to feel like I’m important; in the eyes of someone else. Sure I've got a lot of Facebook groups on the margins of my page…but how many of those people really care about me? What happens when my newest meme says “This is a cry for help,” will they still laugh at it?
But I’ll talk to them anyways… so it’s okay.
It’s okay since I don’t really make a fuss about anything. It’s not like I’m at the bottom of my class or like I have no friends and my family doesn't love me. They do. And I do have friends and my scholastic career is above average yet I’m still… empty.
Like the lamp sitting on the fold-able chair I’m… out of place. And I’m too cowardly to ever say this to anyone so instead I’ll write this and I’ll put out little hints for people to catch.
A little fly in the air asking politely for a swat. And maybe I’ll get one. Maybe I won’t.
I’ll even post this on some websites for someone to see. And I’ll get some nice comments like “I can relate.” And maybe they can but that doesn't fill up the half empty cup of water in front of me…
So I’ll just take a second, and sit here blankly staring off into the surroundings.
Aunt Jemima’s syrup… A hastily opened bag of plastic cups… A lamp sitting carelessly on a fold-able chair.
And then a second became a lifetime.