I Feel Lost
You know that feeling you get when you aren't exactly sure if you've been away awhile? The type of mentality that ensnares the mind. It won't let go, at times, but its usually transitory. It comes in flashes, in-between the rain clouds overhead. But when it refuses to release, when all remains translucent and wont revert, I find myself at ease or in a state of panic. A perfect calm ensues or a rage builds, and I either seize to play tricks on myself, or seek to do so. My thought process isn't necessarily rid of clout, but I can address issues in a bent light that's just the right amount of impaired to benefit from. Or I can carry out my will to self destruct.
I recall a memory of walking around my school-campus, feeling particularly cumbersome. Class was out, and a graceful swirl of apricot and burnt orange fell around me, as if somehow the leaves themselves respected the dignity of my disposition and personal space. Autumnal breezes ran through my hair non violently, and a burning of faith in everything, which came naturally to me, was in play. Far from oracular, I decided to head towards the direction of the oak trees which guarded the entrance to the main building. My brooding walk was then interrupted by the sight of a group of people, sitting on the grass. Checkered shirts and generically alternative choices in attire explained the nature of those who wore them. Their faces were quickly identified and matched to their names. Quite like a Doctor in practice, I pulled my memories and psychoanalytics to the table, and studied with passionate bias, which might have also contained a hint of inherent envy. Why should they bear smiles while I sunk ever lower, alone? From a distance, I walked with fixed eyes. Composure giving way to burden, I had to look away, retain to self. I swear, I only ever wanted to be invited with arms open wide in happy embrace. We'd laugh and act like the idiots we so were. Those thoughts running through, I quickly hardened and pulled out of a certain sinkhole of despair. I'd been walking on my own for years, I could walk in seclusion for more to come. I didn't necessarily need anybody, I told myself. And I knew I was right. With vibrancies of youth in the air, I sat alone, in a corner of grass I'd temporarily claim as my own. White streaks of cloud hung high, caught in a vast blue. On the horizon, a salmon sun was preparing for a grand exit, but wasn't exactly 'there' yet. Still, it was gradually setting, at the beginning of the end. Needing someone to talk to, I held my phone. With a tight grip, I caught myself in the reflection of the screen. I looked...how I'd always looked. Pallid, stone faced. Battle ready. I was never really certain of which war I was fighting or who's side I was on, but I expected something to happen. From beyond the phone, a voice called. I hadn't recognized it at first, but I gradually began to match the tone to Cameron's face. By her side, was Brendon. By his, Derick and Carmine. Ignoring the happy coincidence, I stood up in anticipation of a rushed interaction. To my surprise, they walked towards me, and then I remembered who they'd been this past year. The pack of misfits I'd been favoring during lunch, and other events. As words exchanged, a darkness receded from me. I was near the edge of rage and despair when they'd found me, sitting criss-cross on lush manufactured grass. I nearly faded further at the hands of a group that was probably unaware of my existence, but brought back a bit by another. Relieved, I engaged. We spoke of the unimportant issues, maybe even chuckled once or twice. Somehow, we'd made plans to meet on Saturday. Then, one by one, their parents arrived, and soon after, departed with them. By myself once more, I didn't feel quite as alone. The sky was purple, and I tried to count the time that'd passed. Out of curiosity, I looked back on the space of grass those hipster bastards were sitting on, but found it void. Clarity found me as I stood up, and walked westward in admiration of the pretty colors in the atmosphere again. "Everything's going to be fine, fine, fine", Alanis Morissette assured. "I'm sad but I'm laughing", I swear her lyrics were perfect.
I recall a memory of walking around my school-campus, feeling particularly cumbersome. Class was out, and a graceful swirl of apricot and burnt orange fell around me, as if somehow the leaves themselves respected the dignity of my disposition and personal space. Autumnal breezes ran through my hair non violently, and a burning of faith in everything, which came naturally to me, was in play. Far from oracular, I decided to head towards the direction of the oak trees which guarded the entrance to the main building. My brooding walk was then interrupted by the sight of a group of people, sitting on the grass. Checkered shirts and generically alternative choices in attire explained the nature of those who wore them. Their faces were quickly identified and matched to their names. Quite like a Doctor in practice, I pulled my memories and psychoanalytics to the table, and studied with passionate bias, which might have also contained a hint of inherent envy. Why should they bear smiles while I sunk ever lower, alone? From a distance, I walked with fixed eyes. Composure giving way to burden, I had to look away, retain to self. I swear, I only ever wanted to be invited with arms open wide in happy embrace. We'd laugh and act like the idiots we so were. Those thoughts running through, I quickly hardened and pulled out of a certain sinkhole of despair. I'd been walking on my own for years, I could walk in seclusion for more to come. I didn't necessarily need anybody, I told myself. And I knew I was right. With vibrancies of youth in the air, I sat alone, in a corner of grass I'd temporarily claim as my own. White streaks of cloud hung high, caught in a vast blue. On the horizon, a salmon sun was preparing for a grand exit, but wasn't exactly 'there' yet. Still, it was gradually setting, at the beginning of the end. Needing someone to talk to, I held my phone. With a tight grip, I caught myself in the reflection of the screen. I looked...how I'd always looked. Pallid, stone faced. Battle ready. I was never really certain of which war I was fighting or who's side I was on, but I expected something to happen. From beyond the phone, a voice called. I hadn't recognized it at first, but I gradually began to match the tone to Cameron's face. By her side, was Brendon. By his, Derick and Carmine. Ignoring the happy coincidence, I stood up in anticipation of a rushed interaction. To my surprise, they walked towards me, and then I remembered who they'd been this past year. The pack of misfits I'd been favoring during lunch, and other events. As words exchanged, a darkness receded from me. I was near the edge of rage and despair when they'd found me, sitting criss-cross on lush manufactured grass. I nearly faded further at the hands of a group that was probably unaware of my existence, but brought back a bit by another. Relieved, I engaged. We spoke of the unimportant issues, maybe even chuckled once or twice. Somehow, we'd made plans to meet on Saturday. Then, one by one, their parents arrived, and soon after, departed with them. By myself once more, I didn't feel quite as alone. The sky was purple, and I tried to count the time that'd passed. Out of curiosity, I looked back on the space of grass those hipster bastards were sitting on, but found it void. Clarity found me as I stood up, and walked westward in admiration of the pretty colors in the atmosphere again. "Everything's going to be fine, fine, fine", Alanis Morissette assured. "I'm sad but I'm laughing", I swear her lyrics were perfect.
26-30, M
