day in the life prose

open your eyes
and i listened. that instant before the music blares. before the clock radio wails its painful siren. that's when i was really supposed to wake up. sleeping moments stolen from me.

i didn't find myself mad, i just went through the motions. closed my eyes for what seemed mere seconds. falling to the bed only to wake up an hour later. cursing under my breath, i let the temptation caress me. that raven haired one who wanted me to stay, i call her procrastination. if only for a moment, then i pushed her back. glancing at my reflection in the monitor, i nudged the uncooperative strand of hair into place.

eleven flights down and two buildings over, i sneak to the back of some poorly lighted room. rigorous math: the hardest task in this class is to stay awake. taught by an instructor that needs to lose a few excess weighted variables himself. not everything is a product of sums. i felt like walking out, cheated out of my hours. i did.

the smell of bacon greets me like an unsolicited salesperson. i stare blankly at the linoleum tiles as the breakfast line progresses. shoes go shuffle, shuffle stop. i get my tired usuals, eggs over easy instead of the standard scrambled and a bottle of orange juice tucked under my arm.

i stab at the console buttons and the morning sports highlights scream for my attention. the 'oohs and ahhs' seem to come out of my mouth at the right moments, buttered toast filling the oral cavity or not. subliminal messages working at its finest, tapping into that ancient cerebral machine.

i hear a faint rustle outside the tv room door and i quickly gather up my belongings, throwing writing instruments in there with packs of gum. noone is supposed to be able to see the hermit. noone. i don't know when i decided to take on that reprisal. it must have been something embedded in my psyche.

i rush past faceless masses, hearing a muttered greeting every now and again. i try not to look up and draw a blank on someone's face. forcing a grin, i laugh at myself. it scares me and scars my paperthin soul lightly. it starts to rain and drops from heaven slide down my gray jacket. i get to my destination with my face damp. maybe it's because i've been thinking about her again. i write for her, i've always done so. words on paper, typed on a poor man's program and uttered as phrases from my mouth. all for her, or some semblance of her i conjured up in my mind.

i know it must have been hard for her to show some sort of acknowledgment that someone like me existed. to actually ask after the minor nuances in my life. i think that's what endeared her all the more to me. i get through the rest of my classes like i've always done: dazed and confused. somehow it will all work out though, it always does. that and i try to redefine 'working out' everytime.

i should be a better man, more dedicated, less confusing. read books more, play less games, start making serious money. all this is forgotten when i go for dinner, bloodlust leading me to a piece of steak and choice vegetables. i never liked vegetables, i push them aside unconsciously. i feel separated from the world like them. i know they're good for me, yet i find it hard to embrace them. they find it hard to embrace me.

questions come to mind as i get ready to greet the night with restless slumber. when did i start going crazy? it throbs in my head when you speak. can you stay silent now? that's when i thought to drift into the cold embrace of sleep.

only to have you open my eyes again.