~{{Brotherly Love//Semper}}~
Jan 2, 2013 23:09:43 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jan 2, 2013 23:09:43 GMT -5
Jr Alexander
[/font][/center]Losing yourself takes seconds, finding yourself again takes forever. It’s just like trust, it takes forever to gain, but can be broken in seconds. It’s like you once you lose yourself you just don’t find yourself again easily. You wander around in the depths of your own mind, trying to figure out who you are, and what you want to do with yourself. And sometimes, I guess you don’t ever really find yourself. Maybe you don’t want to find yourself. You’re just lost…and you don’t know who you are.
Thoughts are a killer, especially when you can’t escape them. Usually I can, you know, by giving myself a job, or finding something to do. But when you’re lying in bed at night, in the utter darkness of it all, you can’t escape. You are a victim to your mind, and you discover you can’t run anymore. You cover your ears as every single thought pounds you, torments you, puts you down. You hit rock bottom and you feel like you can’t get up again. Maybe you can’t. But maybe, just maybe you can.And I wake up falling
I thrash around in my bed, groping around for anything in the pitch black to stop my fall. I finally find the headboard of my bed, and I cling to it for dear life. I sit up, breathing heavily, and wipe the sweat from my forehead. “Arty? Arty are you there?” I rub my eyes and try to adjust to the darkness, but it doesn’t really work too well. I lay back down and pulled the covers up to my chin, trying to calm my breathing and forget what just happened.
Well sleep obviously wasn’t going to come now, so I got out of bed. Let me rephrase that, I fell out of bed after tripping over something; I don’t know what, it’s dark okay. I look around and walk over to my brother to make sure he is okay, and when I’m sure he’s fine I sneak out of the room. I find my way into the main room as light from the window hits me like a ton of bricks. I rub my eyes and flop down on the floor. I roll over onto my stomach, pressing my face into the ground. I heard the questioning voice of my parents as to asking why I was face down on my floor and naturally my response as a teenage boy was sarcastic.“Because I can.”