Reads: 479  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
One night can change the mind of a person. One thing, one action, one word can destroy or make someone. I'm living in a world I never knew was possible and learning to deal with it and it's amazing and unfair all at the same time.

Submitted: April 18, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 18, 2009



It vanishes into the night before you can even blink.  The stories.  The magic.  The love. 
“Last night you said this would be on our soundtrack.”
“Jesus Christ… Brand New.”
“Yeah I did…”
All I picture is how the car was gliding along the lone road, flying through the lights around us, enveloping us.  The weight of my body floating up as if it were vapor, right through the roof, disappearing before I had a chance to attach myself.  It could’ve been summer right then, in that moment.That beautiful moment where I could look to my left and breathe in the same breath she just took.  She is the wind and I the dust.  Beauty in new forms.

I Love You.  Is all that’s needed. 

I told this story better in my head, in the scene, but that’s gone now… this is what’s left.  In agony I search for the words remembered, the exact description.  I let it all slip as a droplet breaks into pieces against the cold of metal.  I want that memory.  I want them all back.  Instead I hear music pounding and too many thoughts.  Give them back.  Jesus Christ, that’s a pretty face…

I want her right now. I want her to know what it’s really like.  How I think my thoughts.  How I conceal emotions, and how I am more real than she has ever known.  So, I sit here attempting to live a little, breaking down at the computer again.  In silence.  I am not fake, nor cold.  A bit bitter but that can be warmed with the perfect flame.  The kind you’d find on someone I could save.  Please.  Please.  Save me?

What would it take?  How many years?  Where would I have to travel?  To let the door open to my insides, let out the contagious disease consuming the life of me?  The virus ripping my guts out of me?  If they don’t put me away…

Reality strikes hard, a fucking direct blow to the face.  I am back watching the little pictures the music forms for me, zigzagging and twisting in a layer in front of reality.  Each image a neon glow folding into new ideas and pictures just visible with the road behind them.  “Right there, diagonal to the moon.  Betelgeuse.”

It’s beautiful, amazing.  Seeing the sole, the one thing that can be so direct to a powerful, magical thing.  Sharing tides to our emotions, one star to guide us on our ride to freedom.  It’s as if we had something to follow for once, a road in search of this largely tiny speck. 

Well, it’ll be a miracle.

Imagine living in a song, making that your life.  Inhale a little feel goods, swallow down the poison, feel your body with other people.  Take anything normal and alter it.  Take these things and you could live like we do.  I am a young addition to a group of thinkers, users, and all of those who abuse anything that lifts your spirit.  Making new rules and changing old ones.  There is no definition, no marker for this style.  A no style, one of every style.  No is not an option.  There is no stopping, not when you’re flying with the birds.  Do you believe you're missing out…

Close your eyes.  The music, it’s covering you.  It’s all the music we listen to as we glide along on dark roads.  It’s all beautiful, all her music, all her soul.  A magnificent splendor for my curiosity… all in one essence of her blooming passion.  Smiling in tune of our bodies, she is art.  I praise the waves of talent soaking onto me, all because she let me in.  Allowed me to join in on her reindeer games, this universal package for being a teenager in America.  And yet I’ve never felt so alive.  Right here.  Next to these people. I’m safe.  The words then float in…  That everything good is happening somewhere else?  They mask any doubts for this adventure. 

I wish I had the dialogue, but instead my thoughts are warped around visual outtakes.  I would bring that moment, those moments, back in an instant without a second guess.  Peace for the damaged, I let the ground shake me.  I allow her world to crash over me like the anger of the mother wave cascading onto the deck of a tattered ship.  We are more than this place and no one sees it.  A small group of people fighting the world. 

My eyes drop slowly, taking in the world as it blurs down.  Music beating body, I breathe.  I exhale with all my force, fighting the sting of air and cigarettes, trying to forget.  My high twisting into itself, disagreeing, not allowing.  The car shakes with the force of her hands trembling, shaking with anger, fear, confusion.  I am unknown to her.  They tremor violently as she realizes that I am the scariest place she has ever been.  A universe all its own and she has stepped into the woods that are never-ending. 

I just watch those hands shake, shake in disgust of my choices. 
“I don’t know what to do anymore”
“You’re not even listening to me.”
“You don’t even care, you don’t care about anything.”
I have so many responses, too many excuses to each statement, but I sit in silence, watching the trees swoosh past.  She doesn’t understand that where enchantment was, there is now routine and a wasteland of old memories.  I’m screaming silently to the world but no one notices.  I’ve pushed the limit, have broken the fence,  just like every other time and this is my consequence. 

But with nobody in your bed
The night's hard to get through…

Instead of giving in to the outtakes, I focus on my mind spiraling away from me.  The formations allowing a light show.  This is all I have in reality, little squiggles of nothingness, little animated glow sticks that appear when I’d much rather not visualize them.  If she could see what I see, the fear wouldn’t be of not knowing me, but actually knowing me and I’m afraid of that.  The most important thing for me to grasp on is sitting in the driver seat of a Honda, right next to me.  My new world and my danger.  She looks at me as if she wants more, but is giving up.  But I know in my heart, this drive is the start to millions. 

And I will die all alone
And when I arrive I won't know anyone

Well Jesus Christ, I'm alone again
So what did you do those three days you were dead?
Cause this problem's gonna last more than the weekend.

Well Jesus Christ, I'm not scared to die,
I'm a little bit scared of what comes after
Do I get the gold chariot?
Do I float through the ceiling?

Do I divide and fall apart?
Cause my pride is too sly to hold back all my dark
And the ship went down in sight of land
And at the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands

I know you'll come in the night like a thief
But I've had some time alone to hold my lies inside me
I know you think that I'm someone you can trust
But I'm scared I'll get scared and I swear I'll try to nail you back up

So do you think that we could work out a sign
So I'll know it's you and that it's over so I won't even try

I know you'll come for the people like me
But we all got wood and nails
Tongue tied to a hating factory

But we all got wood and nails
Your tortured (and hanging) factory
Yeah, we all got wood and nails
Your tortured (and hanging) factory
Yeah, we all got wood and nails
And we sleep inside of this machine

© Copyright 2020 Isis. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments: