Questions..(?)

What goes on in my head?

What goes on in my head? 

Well that depends.

Sometimes like right now, I'll be nose deep in a book. This one happened to be The Wars by Timothy Findley, which we have to read eventually for English but being me, I wanted to read it as soon as possible and all at once. 

I was completely concentrated, pictures appearing in my head of a story that wasn't mine. 

Then the words blurred together and I paused. 

I can hear a deafening silence around me, but there's still noise. There always is. 

My parents chatting downstairs, my mother asking my stepfather the interputation of each scene  in the movie they are most likely watching. 

My siblings voices heard through the vents cheering on their favourite basketball team seen on our basement TV.

The sound of wind outside my window or is it just a car driving by?

No. It's wind and the sound waves of a plane overhead. Far to close for comfort but that's how they always are. Safe distance I know but still nerve racking. 

Maybe that's why I'm not a fan of physics. 

The beep of a car alarm sounds as well, and a trash can being bumped or shifted. 

And then I'm back in my senses. Not staring aimlessly at my window. 

My eyes wander to the wall opposite me, at a canvas of a lion and two zebras my parents had recently bought, I wonder what possessed them to buy it. They're pretty pictures sure, but why make the motion to actually buy it? 

I think this all while staring at them, I wonder why I even thought of their reasoning for buying it in the first place...I keep staring, for no particular reason now.

But they seem to blur too or maybe I'm just not up for refocusing my eyes anymore.

My eyes wander around my room, my book long forgotten positioned in my lap now.

And I start to feel as if I'm about to cry.

Why would I cry? What's causing this emotion? 

Nothing. Or maybe everything? 

My mind feels blank and then I shift my eyesight to my door and I start to picture just standings there looking at myself, my position in my bed, my back against the wall or more like my pillows stacked as a barrier between me and the wall. The walls far to uncomfortable to read against.

And my nose in my book, the wars as I mentioned earlier.

I wonder what someone might think seeing this scene. Their first impression. Their first remark. 

I bet I'd be far to focussed on the book to even know they're standing there.

Why do I wonder all this?

No clue.

Another planes heard overhead, cutting off these odd thoughts. 

Again nerve-racking. 

Do they fly overhead a lot? Why haven't I noticed this before. 

I shift once again as I realize how uncomfortable my position is.

A pain shooting up my back, an ache in my neck.

Maybe I've been reading to long? 

But I've only been at it for half an hour or so.

I wonder what's causing my head to spin and my thoughts to get rambled.

I wonder what's causing me to feel so disconnected all of a sudden.

Then my wondering stops.

My head refocuses.

I take a deep breath as if I was underwater.

Had I been holding my breath this long? 

Pay no mind.

I pick up my book, the wars. Flip it over in my hands, not caring about losing my place, I'm sure I'll find it again. I begin reading the plot that's briefly explained on the back once more. 

A story of a kid. A Canadian kid just like me. A 19 year old at war. A war to end all wars they say. 

How wrong they were.

I sigh and reopen the book, find roughly my left off spot and begin to read again.

I must finish this book tonight. 

I must. 

( A/N : Wrote this while reading a novel, the wars for ELA this month. The book really gets you stuck in your head and aware of the things you are seeing and feeling etc which inspired this poem/story. I know it's quite long but hope you all enjoy c: )