I think life can imitate art, I think in shows and movies where the poor misunderstood soul can narrate the lives of others as simply just a way of reaching out. To a crowd of people who aren't apart of the problems but are in it for the run time, they'll stay tuned just to see what happens next right?
But what if this isn't a movie or a t.v show... What if all I'm asking for is to be heard?
And no I'm not talking about just any simple conversation from one person to another I'm talking about capturing who I am in written words. In a narrated stance, my way of getting up off the couch and letting myself be heard. I think I would like that, to look back at the end of the day and say, "Well I can't say today was a waste because somewhere out there is someone who read this and got the message."
So here it goes:
Last night wasn't an easy one, In fact it was pretty bad. It went out with good intentions but as the evening progressed it just became less and less of that. I sat there and typed away for a good hour blocking out all the noise and the insults that spilled from the cracks in the walls. I felt pity for the mice that were trying to have a sound night, but they wouldn't be getting one.
And even I was beginning to have enough of all this mess so I tossed on my boots and stepped out of the building with nothing but the idea of walking away and never returning. It had been like this more than often now, and despite having the brain to wonder why-- I still couldn't.
It was a cold night and I winced from the regret of not grabbing hold of my denim vest. It wasn't a high end piece of clothing, no, it was this old worn thing I've had for years. I couldn't help but take pride in myself because I had grabbed my keys and just left on foot, onto the next adventure!
I walked down the road and to the right side of the blacktop was a field of grass, good old Texas. Where did I want to go? I felt my stomach and I knew I was hungry so I figured I'd walk to some burger joint. The funny things about simple plans is that they're never easy to follow through, wouldn't you say?
The night didn't turn out that way and I found myself heading home shortly two hours after my "Daring Escape".
The next time I'm around for it all I'll go live in some abandoned home, I wouldn't mind it so much. In some way It would be easier than coping.
