I hardly slept that month. I was in love, or I thought I was. Each time I would close my eyes my mind would fill with thoughts of her. Her smell. Her eyes. Her hair. She completely consumed me. My grades started dropping, my friends thought I was sick, my parents even accused me of doing drugs. But looking back on it I realized I wasn’t in love at all. I mean I’ve watched pornos where I’ve taken special notice of the girls eyes or hair, and that love was hardly real, or actually, I guess, that love is more real in a physical sense. But that love usually ends up in the garbage can is what I mean. But that feeling that kept me up all those nights, it sure as hell felt more real. Life was better when I thought I was in love. A certain divinity crept into the most concrete inanimate things. I could look at an ant, a tree, the chimney of my house, the string tied onto a balloon, that broken blade of my ceiling fan, and I’d be in complete awe of their existence. But I’m better now. Once I remembered to jerk off, love and god died and I could sleep again.
Location: in the middle of the world on a fishhook
Posts: 333
Bincount™: 337
Re: A short monologue
Quote:
Originally Posted by shai
Here's a short monologue i wrote:
Life was better when I thought I was in love. A certain divinity crept into the most concrete inanimate things. I could look at an ant, a tree, the chimney of my house, the string tied onto a balloon, that broken blade of my ceiling fan, and I’d be in complete awe of their existence. But I’m better now. Once I remembered to jerk off, love and god died and I could sleep again.
As much as I don't want to admit it, I'm starting to understand and believe this. In a similar way, this has been a plague for me lately. I'm thinking maybe it was all fake and there was no need for it in the first place. Perhaps I should just fade.
