Stuff

Is Something Wrong?

   He stared at the blank document. A title was written above the page but no words filled it. No words came to him. He wanted to write, he did! He just... couldn't.

He huffed and closed the document. He'd go back later when he had an idea. He opened Youtube and began browsing. No... no... seen it... seen it... boring... boring. Frustrated, he opened his playlist and leaned back with music blasting through his headphones.

He felt... numb. He had no ideas and that made him feel bad. He wanted to do something but he just... couldn't. He couldn't do anything. He wanted to cry but he didn't think that was right either... He sank lower into his chair. This song... didn't feel right. He skipped over it.

He scrolled through his phone even though he had a computer right there. Maybe there was something to inspire him there? Hopefully... He sent a new message to the groupchat and frowned when no one saw the message immediately.

Suddenly the music was too loud. He pulled one side of headphone away from his ear. No. Bad. He put it back. Worse. He growled and clicked away from the playlist. Now the headphones just rested against his head. He liked the pressure for a little while as he sat in the computer chair. Then his ears started to hurt. He took the headphones off and set them on top of the keyboard. Maybe he should just go lay in bed. Or do his assignments! He needed to get those done...

   . . . No. Bad. 

   He growled and buried his fingers in his hair. No one was in the room but he could hear his siblings running up and down the hall. It was too much suddenly. The vibrations ricocheted in his skull like bombs. 

   He slammed a hand down on his desk and relished in the way the whole house went silent for a moment. 

   What was wrong with him..? He loved doing these things! He loved playing his games, and writing his stories, and watching these videos. He loved his music and his art and everything he had tried. He loved it... but he hated it. He hated it so fucking much. He couldn't do and and he didn't know why. He wanted to, he needed to. 

   God he needed a job... or a better hobby... or some friends who weren't always in school. He needed something but WHAT. WHAT GOD DAMNIT WHAT!!?!?!

   Tears finally dripped onto the keyboard. He was crying... As soon as he realized it a sob bubbled in his throat and then another. He covered his mouth and stumbled over to his bed.He buried his face in the pillow and tugged his sheet over him. He hated the cold and yet he could never sleep with anything thicker than a sheet. His favorite toy was pulled close to his chest as sobs heaved their way through him. 

   Why couldn't he just do what he wanted to? He really really wanted to do these things... but nothing... nothing got done. What was wrong with him...? What was wrong...?