A Journey (by Eirian James Ashley)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A relatively short journey in the life of a man.

Submitted: August 22, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 22, 2012



A journey

As I lay in my bed, the music from my phone gently pulsating into my ear canals though my ear phones, drowning out the outside sounds of the world, I feel a sense of confusion which makes me feel innocent and powerless come to my head.

Most people call it tiredness or drowsiness, I view it in a disarming, innocence giving manner. I feel truly unable to harm in this state and oddly, I enjoy being helpless because it lends to me a sense of not having worry about anything because if I have no power I have no control and thus, no worries.

Anyway, as I lay there I lose interest in seeing and close my eyes but still continue to see. Many different things in my head, the images are clear yet faded black and white. People I know, emotions I feel, places I've been and made up and suddenly, I lose my thread and I wake up an hour later with the image of a girl I was once obsessed with appearing in my head for a moment.

This image was my sobering wake up call. You might be surprised to learn that this is not some drug induced underwhelimg fantasy but merely the journey I experience in my own mind under the influence of music, emotion and lack of sleep.

I'm not entirely sure if other people have to cope with these confused flashes in their brains, disorganised, unending creative thoughts filling your mind with a 1000 ideas a minute, creating a million reasons to love, hate, be unafraid and be paranoid all at the same time.

All I know for sure is that I'm experiencing this and it all appears to be under natural influence. Well this and my dramatic mood swings, where one minute I might believe you to be the most interesting person in the universe and upon taking something you've said as insulting me I'll become a passive-aggressive emotional wreck that desires to be appeased.

Looking inside my head, I often wonder if all of my behaviour is driven by attention seeking or not. A little part of me even wonders if seeing images and slowly becoming more unstable is some psychological distress flare for attention or if I genuinely am just overwhelming myself with mental data.

I'm not actually sure which one would be more desirable, though the second one would make me a bit less of a prick.

Increasingly, I am finding I am walking through dreams more and more, yet my eyes are open. I walk these dreams, live these scenarios, get angry/happy/sad/my groove on (dancing) with these people who don't exist or haven't done anything to me in real life.

It starts to become midly alarming once you begin losing time to these imagings, these mind sketchings. These vivid chalk drawings never expressed in chalk, held together by a narrative you could only properly express in actions.

I'm not entirely sure if I'm being pretentous, poetic, flowly or chaotic in my writing here but I can only hope this is something interesting to read, really.

The journey in question is my daily life as it presently is and my mind exploration.

I honestly do get the impresison this isn't the same kind of journey everyone else goes through, not that I believe myself some special super person who'll be the only person to experience things like this. But for some reason, I find it hard to believe that people who act not like myself would have the same mental processes, views, preconceptions, etc. I often times do feel very lone, but I don't believe it a mark of pride but merely how things are.

I suppose it can't be that bad, my witterings and idle imaginings seem to entertain some, even if they do leave me with a tactical mind like a distracted boy. "Oooh, ooh, a frog, a frog... OH, A CATAPILlAR!"

Such chaos does have it's own advantages of being free of scheming, ill-intending plans. Not that I have any lack of memories and plans, I've many and if driven sufficently, I even carry some out. But I don't know what I "want" from others, other than to have them enjoy my company so I can enjoy their company without worrying.

Such negative thoughts flow through my mind regularly on a whim, the idea that somwhow I'm bothering someone and I can't help it because I'm just a failure of a bother, a terrible fool who's so tedious and stupid he can't even see how much of a twit he is.

And then you start having a go at yourself, saying you're just creating your own problems and thinking so much it hurts you. After all, if you bother people about you being a bother, aren't you a bother? Hmm, hard to say without tinting the response with my own negative self-perception, honestly.

I imagine I'm not all that bad, I'm just a particular type of person raised in a strange environment who interacts with himself and others in a disjointed, chaotic manner and despite all this, wants to make sense of how he and others do things but in the chaos loses track of what he's learnt, what is important and what isn't and ultimately...

I think I need someone to help me. Maybe I just need a hug? I don't know.

End of journey for now.

- Eirian James Ashley

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