Potential

Potential

I clung to the rails as if they were my lifeline. Standing here alone, they might as well have been. I was done, exhausted and just done. There had been homework all week, and quizzes, and a test on a subject I really don’t care about. I probably failed all of them. Like it made a difference, really.

My parents wouldn’t care, they gave up on me a while ago.

---

I don’t do much outside of school, really. I study, I go to class, I go home. That’s the routine. But because of that, I don’t feel any more tired than usual anymore. I’ve conditioned myself just to be perpetually exhausted. It’s terrible, but it gets my parents off my back.

---

I wandered back inside and sat on the couch. I should have done something productive. I could have cleaned my room, or done homework, or studied. I really just don’t care enough. That’s what everybody says. I don’t know, maybe I care too much, and now I’m unable to do anything because I’m too close to the situation, or something like that. See? I can be smart.

---

I can’t help but wander from the path of studying, just, there’s just nothing to keep me engaged while I’m there. My tutor gets really annoyed with me, then my parents ask him how I did, then he’s honest with them, then my parents are very annoyed with me. I don’t care about the work, I care about getting them to leave me alone.

The Anthem of my Childhood

The Anthem of my Childhood

Teletubbies.

Cyber Chase.

Lion King.

Bright lights.

Dark nights.

What I didn’t understand,

things that made me afraid to stand.

Hiding alone,

whispering prayers,

anything that would stop the nightmares.

Every day a struggle,

every time I took a tumble,

always there to fall again.

Finally home.

No longer alone.

the monster took a break.

And for pete’s sake,

left me alone.

Left me to sleep at home.

Then I was taken to the monster

for what reasons unclear,

but there I was being chased again

Such a nightmare returned again,

yet in my days there was light.

Something to stop the night

from taking over.

I got older,

the monster looked colder,

I could fight the beast now.

I was big enough,

and I knew I could be tough.

If only that realization had come sooner

I might have been able to avoid the crueler

aspects of the night.

With this new power,

I wielded my sword higher.

Never again would I let the monster win

When the monster knocked on the door,

I would not let it in.

When I discovered how to keep it out,

then I realized just how I turned out.

I still remember the dark, and the monster who lives there.

I see it from time to time, but it only stares.

I am the victor of our battles,

but I don’t want to tattle.

Such fear will always be the victor

no matter how I try to forget it.

But I don’t have a choice.

I lost my voice long ago.

All there is to do is wait.

Wait for the darkness to finally go straight.

And admit the wrong to save the right.

And finally end my long dark night.

An Alternative with Writers Block

Hello, all, 

So I've been hitting a rut for the past few days, as far as writing goes, so until that clears up, I must offer a shallow attempt at an alternative!

Other than feeling rather morose with my lack of creativity, I have also been feeling incredibly nostalgic. As a result of this vulnerable emotion, I am revisiting the series that got me really reading, A Series of Unfortunate Events. In re-reading them, I've realized just how much their sarcastic and sad themes have influenced my sense of humor and a lot more of my personality than I care to admit. It's kind of neat to revisit books and realize just how much impact they have on you. 

"If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book. In this book, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning and very few happy things in the middle." 

p. 1. Chapter One. Book One. The Bad Beginning. A Series of Unfortunate Events. 
-Lemony Snicket