A Day Before Now.

A moment of clarity: Sometimes I get this feeling of deep-depression. It sits on my shoulders and pushes me down, like a lead weight dragging me to the depths of hell. It comes out of nowhere, a lightning bolt, a flash flood, a supernova of hurt and loneliness. And then I sit and stare at the world, but everything is a blank page, no colour, no feeling. Like static from a late night tv screen. A total numbness envelopes me and my mind falls asleep but at the same time its screaming, begging for a change. My nails are chewed from the nervousness of not knowing. My bagged eyes are heavy. My legs jump at unknown restlessness. Anything to keep me awake.

To the cause of the problem: Most times its loneliness. It eats at my heart, feeding off my desire to start something new, to have someone new, but never reaching the end of the tunnel, never reading the last page of a good book. Never knowing the ending. I see faces around me, those that I love and having that love unknown, unreturned, unseeing, unbelieving. From where does it all stem, the root of all evil, the cause and effect of time's twisted cycle. And the seed sprouts from the fog in my mind. I am the cause. Setting the unattainable goal, finding myself always heading in a direction that is no direction at all, but a landslide, a maze with no exit, the longest road with robots always orange. Is it for protection, to know the ending before the kick-off. Or could it be self-destruction.

The ending: All times I am my own undoing. Too frightened, too shy, sometimes too nice. But always end up the friend. I chase the impossible with reckless abandon. And then suffer consequences that chew me up and spits me out like dragon fire. Time for windows to be shut, doors to be locked, keys to be broken in their holes. A lease tossed into a garbage-can fire, together with the thoughts that chain me to an eternal misery. And backing away, I move. I run. I sprint down the longest road and watch as all the lights turn green. I hack my way through the forgotten maze, creating an exit of my own. I wear rubber shoes to avoid the lightning strikes. I speak my mind. I finish the book. And placing it on the bedside table, I see my name on the cover. I stand up and walk to my new window. I open the shutters and gaze out on the world. The infinite beauty touches my face and for the first time in feels-like centuries, I smile.