Anthony touched the pendant around his neck. It had been made for a girl, but he kept it under his shirt and nobody seemed to notice
He felt the reassuring carved pattern. It was still there.
Last month he had almost left it at a friend’s house after using her shower. When he’d noticed it missing, he felt physically ill. Fortunately his friend had found it. She gave it back to him without questions. She hadn’t needed an explanation. She knew.
He rubbed his thumb over the pattern. It was wearing flat already from his constant fidgeting with it. He had to stop or it would break. He sighed. He couldn’t wear the necklace forever. It wouldn’t last. It was just a cheap dollar store necklace.
He could follow her.
He watched the blood pulse in his wrists. He felt the thumping of his heart. He relished the feeling of his active brain and functional, painless eyeballs.
She wouldn’t have wanted him to.
The charm fell off of the necklace, and he caught it in his absently fiddling fingers without thinking. He fished it out of his shirt and examined it.
Bright red flowers. The small plastic loop which connected it to the chain had finally torn through.
He would never be able to repair it.
This is from a couple days ago.
Why so sad, Sarah?
Why so sad?
What is it that has sapped your soul
How crazy is crazy
How crazy is normal
How normal is crazy
What is normal
is anyone it?
I drip drip drip
like an old leaky fountain
like the disposal I need to repair
like the rotten corner of the house
the mold takes hold
it grows and grows
peel back my skin
you’ll see green speckles
underneath the paint
How exactly does one
what is motivation
and where can I dig some up?
I have no bootstraps
there’s nothing I want
nothing I need
nothing to say or do
still I face forward
and chip away
at the time left to me
what future is worth living
what past is worth the struggle
I don’t like struggle
so I just
and watch the world move forward
I am pushed by the current
I could have anything I want
but I don’t want anything
once in a while I feel passion
I am mad with enthusiasm for life
It’s all about smelling the flowers, enjoying the sunset
spending time with family
eating out with friends
cooking, drawing, writing
passion is a flame
it needs fuel
it needs blood sugar
it needs dopamine
even then I don’t know what I want
success is vapid
money is boring
all I really want are the people around me
welcome to my first world existential dread
aren’t we pathetic
Who can find happiness during constant peace and prosperity?
What strength! What fortitude!
One who achieves this feat
can find happiness anywhere
has conquered life
When you’ve spent your days
Scooping up viscera
Hosing down gore
When you’ve spent your nights
Huddled with the others
Waiting for the next shell to hit your trench
When it’s them or you
So you pull the trigger
And fear to miss more than you fear to hit
And you want to dream about peace
But all you see when you close your eyes
Is the face of that kid dead in the rubble
And the yielding pressure of her body underfoot
Before you realized what, in the haze, you had stumbled over.
When food tastes like water
Water tastes like worms
And heavy smells permeate
Gun oil, swamp foot, metal blood
When all this smells like home
all around her is emptiness
where there should be pulsing warmth,
gentle voices of her parents talking to her
instead the cold leeches her skin
she is unwanted
she can’t comprehend
this bright pain
splitting her from their joined bodies
cutting away the comfort of her mother.
what she mourns she does not know.
she grieves her past, present, and future
loneliness stops her heart.
Here’s a twofer.
Day 6: This is a dog, in case you couldn’t tell. Dogs are hilarious. I’m not sure if these fancy ink pens always look like cheap markers when used, or if it’s just my special artistic touch that’s transformed them.
Day 7: I was reading about Echo and Narcissus, looking at depictions of them, and got a little annoyed. So I wrote this.
Everyone remembers Narcissus
But what of Echo?
She didn’t matter to herself
So she doesn’t matter to others
Always a footnote in someone’s painting
A wan satellite
A visual element
Used to balance out and set off
And I drew Echo (alone so Narcissus with his lesser problems and greater charisma can’t steal the limelight), in the process of dwindling away into the cliffs. Soon only her voice will be left.