carphology // joshler

poetry; the therapist that offers its service free of charge

Tyler arrived home to a locked front door and distant shouts coming from inside the house.

He fumbled with his key, opening the door and attempting to creep up the stairs as quietly as possible.

It didn't work.

He heard his name and ducked down just in time to see a porcelain plate fly above his head and crash into the wall next to him, knocking down a family portrait.

He didn't utter a word, not when his father screamed profanities at him for breaking the picture, not when his mom tried to follow him upstairs. He didn't speak when he wandered into the bathroom and stared at his reflection for a full half hour.

He wasn't pondering life and the purpose of existence, or the daily dramas of his family and friends. He just stared, and thought about everything, and nothing. Then, the image of Josh Dun appeared in his head. He thought about how much worse Josh's life was, and how the arguments between his parents were trivial compared to what Josh must go through on a day to day basis.

So he took a breath, and walked out of the room, to his bedroom, did his homework, and started to write.