Greyhounds

Sitting in my room just waiting for her to break the news.
I haven’t bothered to turn on the lights, it always seems to hurt my eyes, I don’t want this as I retreat to my hidden fortress to escape the endless blabber that seems to dominate the surroundings of my domain.

I must have been sitting staring at the wall for hours before an abrupt silence took hold of the over crowded house.
I knew what was going to happen and to be quaintly honest I was looking forward to it, but I wasn’t going to make it any easier for anyone by giving a hint to my knowledge or indifference.

The whole scene was so predictable, it was as if I had seen it all before in a play or lived through it a thousand times in a dream.
Trapped in a web of a continuous spiral of déjà vu, I count down the seconds before she comes…
There it is, that painful light flooding the room stinging my eyes as if it were heavily salted water, she moves slowly with that all too common pathetic look stamped onto her face. God, it’s as if I’m already dead and she has been given the tedious task of identifying my rotten remains.
I can’t remember what she said, in truth I wasn’t listening, rather I was watching her lips move, she smiled and tried oh so hard to keep it sincere.

I’m at the airport, I have no memory of how I got here, only the calculated waves of amnesia that floods my mind every so often. Did I use again?
I can’t remember, but the familiarity of this feeling is comforting to an exhausting degree.
Although numb, I can still feel the piercing stares of the putrid people around me, like small daggers slowly being pushed into my skin I’m all to accustom to such madness.
I welcome it, let these maggots stone me with judgment while they gaze down their hawk like noses at the monstrous disease I’ve become.

Its time to board the plane, I still have no idea where I’m going, but then again it doesn’t really matter. Why should I care? Everything is exactly the same. Each day a copy of a copy of a copy, no face is new, each sound is a B flat and no expression reveals any proof of sanity.
As I move the people shift away as if I’m contagious, I can’t help but smile, or maybe I broke out in frantic laughter, I can’t remember. Either way I’m satisfied, what better than to have your atmosphere twist and dissolve to try get away from you. The thought is a delightfully arousing one.

I’m sitting in my seat, though I don’t recall finding it.
I crave stillness and silence so that I can escape the light and surrender to my thoughts, but I’m stuck here, on this forsaken airplane, God knows why and who knows where.
I try to make sense of the happenings but I soon loose interest and follow the grey hounds in my head on their hunt for a fox or prize rabbit.
Anything to prevent myself from being consumed by the chaos around me.
I must have promised to be good.

I’m stolen from the hunt by an assembly of screams. I can’t describe my annoyance with this.
This plane that I loathed with every fragment of my being was going down, I smiled. My mind slowed, my eyes healed and I felt my heart at ease,
I will soon have my dark, uninterrupted stillness, soon I will rejoin the hunt and banish this world from my thoughts, I will be free of chains and the cold hard floor will never again pull at my skin.

I remember now… I remember everything…