Bloom >> phan

Dreaming Dead

     [Dan looks down at the pencil sharpener in his hand. The sharpest point makes a connection with a dull, art pencil.  Now it is pressed against a flower's petals.  No, not a physical one.  Dan is drawing what he hopes to God is who he is.  Desperately fitting the lines inside the page; however, failing as he breaks the customs brought down upon him by his ancestors.  The color fades from his skin completely as he later watches himself in a blank mirror across the room.  Glass is scattered across the space.  The barren walls display the complications with his vessel, in which his psyche is carried, enclosed, sealed off from others' sight.  Who I am now is the one whom I am truly not. 
     Though Dan is obviously not a flower, he wishes he had the grace of one; he longs for the effortless rise and fall of life between dawn and dusk, between spring and winter.  A sixteen year old can only hope for so much.  He finishes his dream, imprinted in mostly jagged lines on his off-white paper.  Can the whom I want to become meet myself in a compromise? This is such an unnecessary fight.
     Dan's tapes the expression of his being on the wall.  It is all that is left there.  The rest of the items were all mysteriously ripped off in the past hour, even a t-shirt blatantly signed with the words 'homophobia is gay'.  I want to become the change I see in others.  Nothing more and nothing less.
     His room in shambles, an effect from great anxiety, remains that way as Dan shifts uncomfortably into his bed.  He skips his regular late night blogging and looks up at the mostly unfinished flower.  I want to bloom.]

---Present day---

     Dan sat down on a park bench the afternoon following his encounter with Phil.  He honestly did not know how on Goku's green earth he pulled off such a smooth transition from being a customer to becoming a potential friend, but Dan was definitely not angry with the results.  Soon, he saw his favorite trio arrive at the park once again.  Today they were simply cleaning up a rubbish disaster that a large party left last night.
     "Hey, Dan!"  They all greeted him with laughs and smiles.
     "Damnnnnn, Daniel!"  Sarah and Emily both dabbed in response to seeing Dan and his perfect complexion walking towards them in the bright April sunlight.
      Dan put on the most disappointed face he could.  "That is literally an outdated meme.  I hate you all."
     "You know you love us," Finn said.  "Either way, we only have one day left together."
     "Then let's make the most of the time we have left!  Let's pick us up!"  Dan exclaimed, pointing at the garbage on the ground.  The four gardeners died laughing and went to work in their flowery graves.

---

As the sun set on the park, Dan and the others finished their work. Who knew nine adults and their children could leave so much rubbish? The four were about to say their final goodbyes, when they suddenly stopped.
"Hey," Emily started, "How about, since tomorrow is our last day together unless my mom gives you more work to help with," they mumbled, "we go to dinner tomorrow night?"
Sarah and Finn both agreed. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," Dan nodded. "I would hate for us to not see each other at all after this."
"Then it's settled," Sarah finished all of their thoughts.  "See you tomorrow, dude!"
"See ya!" Emily skipped off with their brother and sister.
Dan smiled and waved goodbye, watching as the siblings left the park. Going to dinner with them is a great idea. I hope their mother does give me more work... I need some way to be close enough to Phil's work to see him again. Dan then went off through the same exit of the park he did when he was stopped by Phil. Going through the back gates, Dan walked slowly in case of bumping into him yet again. This time, however, he heard guitar being played from back inside of the site. It was dark out now, and cool, so Dan had no idea why someone would come here when the place was closed.
However, instead of starting home as he would have liked to, Dan followed the trail that led to the euphony in the back of the park. He ended up at the base of a small gazebo, a small pond wrapping around it. Frogs were croaking and bees of the day were beginning to return to their hives to rest. Dan, in the light of the twinkling stars, tilted his head up and swiped his curly fringe out of his eyes to see Phil plucking a gorgeous melody from the frets of a small, black, acoustic guitar.  This scene is so wonderful...  I can't let him see me.
     Dan started to slowly back away from the scene, but tripped on a flower pot and nearly tumbled over backwards.  However, he caught himself in time to blast away from Phil, whom Dan hopes did not see him watching the beautiful man sing a soothing tune about holding on 'till May...  I need to hold on until then if I ever have a chance with Phil...
     Upon returning home, Dan stripped off his pale blue clothing and crashed into his bed.  He was exhausted, more emotionally than physically, however.  Dan looked up at the ceiling to find that it was still there:  his old sketch of a flower.  It had a long, winding stem with wide thorns extending from the greenness of the vine, finished off with a full, blooming rose at the peak of its height.  None of it was colored, but Dan knew that it was not worth the fight to reach up and paint the picture to its completion.  All he could do was color his own face with a clear, salty, palette which extended from his eyes down to the waterfall off of his chin.  He tried as hard as his mind would let him to fill his life with satisfaction in the form of brightness and calming scents, yet it was all for naught.  Dan needed something of greater substance to get him through this challenge his doctors called an "illness."  I have all of the water I need, but where is the sun to complete my internal growth?  Dan put these thoughts to a halt, as he had done thousands of times before, and began to sleep, his heart in pain as he pushed himself further away from being whole.