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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/674821-In-The-Things-Not-Seen
Rated: GC · Book · Biographical · #1478547
"All books are either dreams or swords."
#674821 added November 5, 2009 at 6:35am
Restrictions: None
In The Things Not Seen
Its funny the way everything can go downhill. I imagine it can be compared to having the rug pulled out from under you. One minute you're enjoying the day. The next everything is darker somehow, colder.

This is my experience of yesterday. The beginning was actually quite nice. I spent time with someone I love, and was able to really write for the first time since NaNo started. It wasn't a whole hell of a lot, but it had teeth to it, something that makes the story more real. I cooked before my class. Enjoyed a meal and prepped for class. Class was intriguing as well - war and conflict.

It should have been my first warning.

The minute class was over my day went down the toilet. From my perspective, everyone was in a foul mood. There was a sense of foreboding where there was once contentment. Maybe it was me though. Maybe it was something I was giving off that affected others. Maybe I was seeing not there.

Walking on eggshells is one of specialties, a trait I picked up when I was kid. I did my best to stay out of people way, trying to bring joy. Maybe a smile. Boy, was I throwing dirt balls. My attempts were less than stellar. And, after being struck out, I did the only thing I could think of to do - I walked.

How quickly faith is fleeting.

A part of my brain, hell, most of it, knows that this feeling of failure is irrational. I'm not trying to make excuses for it or simply explain it away. I'm just tired. Tired of trying to guess what's on peoples' minds. Tired of knowing that I will never get the full truth from anyone. There are times when you can stand in front of someone, open and honest, giving them everything there is to give, but they can't give the same. What I find hilarious is that the people I trust most in the world don't trust me the same way. Most people who meet me find me cynical, yet, in the end, I'm usually who gets screwed for putting trust in the wrong person. God, it makes me exhausted just thinking about it.

This darkness is temporary, but in this moment I can't help but feel so very alone. And that in and of itself is utterly ridiculous. Still, this feeling sits with me in the pit of my stomach, gnawing away at my nerves. I keep wondering what went wrong with the day, what did I miss that changed everything. And maybe, that's entirely the point.

© Copyright 2009 LdyPhoenix (UN: ldyphoenix at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/674821-In-The-Things-Not-Seen