Boredom Ensues

Restlessness.

I lay in bed, a day of tiresome tasks and worries alike awaiting me on the other side of the night. I close my eyes once more, hoping that rest comes to me, hoping that my mind will be carried into the night sky and taken on a journey of dreams and wonders. Yet once again I open them, only to see the baren ceiling above me, and the uncomfortable weight of a blanket on my chest. I try again, closing my eyes tightly, shuffling myself to a more comfortable position. I wait, and wait, and wait - yet as I open my eyes their is no light. I sigh heavily, forcing my head back down onto the concrete pillow, wrapping myself in the stuffy cold blanket, and this time play some music into my mind. I close my eyes, letting the melody flow through me...

Yet once again, my eyes open to greet the nighttime atmosphere, still impatiently wondering where the morning sun has gone. I sit up angrily, "What curses me tonight?! Why of all nights can I not rest?!" I yell into the void, wishing hopelessly for a response. Of course, none comes, and so I sit in silence, the growing sound of nothing drowning me as I begin to breath rapidly. My mind looks to the day that has gone, trying to find some glimpse of joy to grab on to - to pull me up from the ocean of fear. Yet all I find is dread, worry, paranoia seeping into my skin like a fire - tearing away at my flesh and my brain. I look around like prey in spotlight, yet the darkness is the only thing there to greet me. "Leave me be, nightmares of the past!" I cry, "Let me rest for the tiresome day of tomorrow!" I once again think of my future, and how painful it could become if I do not rest. I bury my head in my hands, hoping that my mind will shut down, cease function, stop, be silent. Yet the pain of tomorrow and yesterday force its way between my fingers and digs into my eyes, nose and mouth. It floods my ears and all I can hear is the disappointment and upset of those around me. I look up to hear these voices but alas my eyes play tricks, showing nothing but shadows and silhouettes.

"Please I beg of thee!" I scream, "Let these thoughts rest! Let me rest! I know I've done wrong! I know I've fallen from grace! I repent my sins yet you still cry out murder! What more can I do?!" Yet my voice does not carry, and I find myself strangled by the very shadows that surround me. I beg them; I beg and beg yet they do not stop. I look up to my ceiling, hoping to see the night stars, the moon's smile, the ray of sunrise. However all I see is the blank slate of a shrinking room, collapsing around me as my mind spins and twirls like a ballerina forced to dance forever.

Then the immense silence falls, and the shadows part. The lamp of my room brightens once more, and the ceiling stretches back up from where it was. "Is it over?" My quiet voice timidly speaks, yet I look forward and see myself.

"Who are you?" he asks me.

"I am you, aren't I? Or are you me?" I ask in return as he slowly sits down in front of me.

"If I am you, then why are you here? If you are me, then why am I here?"

"You speak in circles! Why must I be tortured so?" I cry, my eyes dampening with water.

"I do not wish to torture you, but you must tell me what keeps you up."

"You should know! You have my mind, my memories! You know my suffering, my every page of my story!"

"And yet you sit here and ask why these demons haunt you! Clearly it is not evident if you yourself are questioning your mind!" He yells back, countering my thoughts, "If you truly understood yourself then you would be asleep like those around you. So why can you not rest?"

I sit there, cradling my knees, before softly speaking, "The world speaks in lies, in riddles and mystery. I look to those around me for guidance, and yet they then curse me for being lost! I follow their words carefully, only to find that they then speak whilst I'm turned away! I look for a reason as to why they lie, and yet I am baffled to find none! Why can I not just find my path - My destiny? Why must this journey feel more like death than life?" My eyes fill with tears, holding him tightly, "So many expect me to know what my story holds, yet I can barely find the pages to write it! I am lost, and yet I am guilty of this, am I not?"

"You are not guilty of this." He responds calmly, and yet this only confuses me more.

"Then why am I blamed?! Hurt? Tortured? Why am I cursed if I am not guilty? Why am I punished if these are not of my own doing?"

"I'm afraid I do not know." He solemnly speaks, whispering as he holds me close. "I wish I could tell you the answers you seek, or guide you on a path to finding them yourself, yet the world is as mysterious to you as it is to I."

"Then what do I do?" I ask, "I am tired, and I wish for the night to carry me away - sometimes I crave that the night lasts an eternity, allowing me to sleep forever. Yet even then I find my body and mind betray me; turning my very home into a horror house of repressed memories and fears. Not but two nights ago I had seen my elder grabbing his bottle, his sloppy smile as he glared at me, his fists clenched..." I stop myself, feeling my heart breaking out from my ribs. "I cannot find solitude here, and yet I am afraid to find it elsewhere."

"Then you find it here," He speaks softly, bringing from behind his back a pad and pen, "You find solitude in these pages. Write your story as you wish for it to be. Write down your worries and pain, and turn it into a story of heroic battles. A place where you finally find your answers at the end of your story."

I look at the pad, picking up the pen cautiously, and turn to the first page. "Where do I start?"

"From the beginning." He smiles, slowly fading into the night, "From the point you first asked where your journey would end."

I sit on the floor, and begin to write.