I’m in a lot of pain right now. It’s a strange feeling, I have no physical wounds or aliments, but I’m weak. I’m driving home from work and I’m tired, the last 9 hours of my life have been dedicated to working in solitary confinement repeating the same manual task over and over again. It’s been cold today and all the muscles in my body have been tense, my feet are wet as water has soaked through my boots and I’ve inhaled more carbon dioxide than any thing know to man.
My drive is also a solitary one, I leave the site to miles upon miles of what appears to be endless country side. Half way through my journey the weight of my bones drag my arms down, I feel like I can’t grip the wheel, my lungs start coughing up debris from the day and I’m undone. It’s such a beautiful day. It’s a mixture of bright sun that pierces the clouds and the aftermath of rain, the puddles sparkle with bravado and the heat of the sun aluminates my path.
A tear runs down my cheek as I’m staring into the distant and my bottom lip starts to tremble uncontrollably. I’m telling myself to be a man because there’s know need to feel the pain I feel right now and my arms become even more heavier than before. I breakdown. floods of tears fill up the car and everything becomes blurry, I can’t see. The road in front of me becomes a million miles longer and it doesn’t matter how fast I put my foot down I’m going nowhere. I think of every choice that had lead to this point but non of it makes sense, just a mish mash of bad memories and mistakes.
I finally arrive at my destination and collapse on the floor and try to breathe, the weight of my body is holding me to the ground and each second that passes as unremarkable as the last. The sheer sound of silence around me doesn’t sooth me it just puts an exclamation mark to everything that’s wrong. I’m on my own and have been for a long time now. The cat meows. I snap back to reality, I dust myself off, wipe the tears and stretch. Same time tomorrow?… I’ll see you then.
You are possibly the worst person I have ever met! You’re a fucking cunt! Yes a fucking cunt! You sucked the life out of me! The past year has just been one big pile of horse shit and you were the fucking anus it stemmed from! You fucking cunt! You absolute fucking cunt! You invaded my life! My life! It’s mine, not yours, you invaded it and made me feel something! For the first time in a long time you made me feel something and you shit all over it, constantly, making me feel like a worthless boil on the arse of humanity. You fucking cunt.
You made me feel loved and wanted, needed. Every time something beautiful was about to develop you found a way to stick a knife between my spine and twist it so deep the blade broke and stuck you fucking bitch! I hate you, I feel so much hate and loathing towards you. Every memory is just jaded, black and white and full of grime. You always made me the bad guy! I was the bad guy, constantly, every argument and indiscretion was my fault, it was me that did everything wasn’t it? Wasn’t it????! You fucking cunt.
A year of my life wasted on you, even when I put on my rose tinted glasses there covered in scum! Even the nice memories are tainted by you. The worst part of it all isn’t that you acted or treated me the way you did. It was because I let you. I let you degrade me, I let you speak to me like a piece of dirt, I let you walk all over me and why? For nothing, for absolute nothing. I’m thinking clearly now. This is all written in anger, but that’s because it’s been suppressed for so long, it’s clear to me now what you are, you are nothing, you are the bad guy, I will beat this and you will be nothing more than a bad memory…I will rise again
Someone once told me that if you write something down it become real. Not in the realms of fantasy, but real life. Let me give that some context. When you write something, it’s no longer just a thought, it’s no longer in your head, it’s not buried within, it has transcended. The best example I can give of this is put pen to paper and see your thought in the real world. It’s now more than it ever was.
My names Tom. This is my introduction to the world, through the medium of text. It’s an outlet, a cathartic exercise, an escape. I’m by no means a professional writer, a scholar or academic. My prowess with the written word is only limited by imagination and ability to form sentences. (not sure if you noticed the name of the page) I’m trying though and for the most part that’s all that matters. I’ve created this page as a means to be creative, talk about the things I like, love, stories, thoughts… Another corner of the internet that may lead to strange paths. For now, this is me saying hello. If you take something, anything from this place I hope it finds you well and maybe we’re not alone on this journey.