Pause:a collection of my thoughts the journals of damien scott

[munky_no_fun]

heres another piece from my latest writing venture..


You wake up dead in a cold sweat, you can feel the darkness grasp you before your eyes even open. Am I alive? Did I make it another night? Did my dreams not haunt my mind to the point while unconscious I danced to my death, unknown to myself of my action. No. Instead you thought of life, and grasp on to that hope that today would be happy. Waking up to the alarm of reality you know different. Today will just be another form of the day that was yesterday, nothing will be different.

Hesitating for a moment you open your eyes, this is the real test. One, then two. The eerie glow of a dim lit room invades your perception and your pupils adjust slowly. The once pure dark room, fade to a vague silhouette of furniture that is your room. I am my own prisoner.

I think of the day ahead. Do I wake up and face the day? The thought of rolling over and ignoring it all crosses my mind more than once. I could do it, and I wouldn’t be misses, but somehow I find my way out of that concentration of worthlessness. I have to get up, and join my part in this world, just one more day and it’ll all be different.

I rise from the comfort of my softened down bed to the cold touch of a carpet less floor in the basement of some house hidden amongst the torture of suburbia. The unfinished basement of a young business man, whose ambition in life is to spend the money he inherited, while I slave away each day for nine hours to give him my money. Bitterness swallows down my self.

I slip on my torn slippers that I’ve had for 7 years, they were a comfort to the chill, and reminded me of home. Home was a distant memory these days, a passing thought that goes with time. Eventually everything’s forgotten. I cant possibly see in 8000 years even 200 anything I have ever done will have any meaning what so ever. I am just a bi product of society, I conform to everything that im told and will never do anything worth mentioning. I take a step.

Walking these days is a chore in itself, my body lags the motivation to move. Each pace of movement my foot take, inches a thousand per thoughts. I feel heavy in the morning and at night I can hardly walk like through the whole day the gravity of the earth reverses and some how near the end of the night I take flight. Heading for the stars that I wish upon. It’s these mornings that I crash back down to earth, landing in my cell, and take my place in the ever cruel cycle that is life.

“You are nothing.” My motivational speech. “you accomplish little.” Every morning I give myself this speech, my own piece of the growing vicious cycle. I am you typical teenage tragedy, something precious gone wrong. Poisoned by the thought that one day I will become something great. Knowing all along that I will wind up a wandering soul lost in a false world, drowning in a sea of self pity, I pity only those who know me. I infect their world with the joy of pain, eventually everyone I know and love will be hurt by my actions or lack of. I am the grim reaper of depression. I infect everyone I meet. Sadness is my shadow.

I am a wandering soul with no purpose to call my own. Instead I wait, wait for death, or life, either one would be a change from the purgatory I now live. I am faced through stories, games, and media of lives greater than mine, tales of accomplishments, legends, and evil masterminds. Then there is me, Damien Scott. That poor little kid who has it all but a label that defines him. No one will remember me, no one even knows who I am.

I always think to myself, ways, Ideas to make myself famous. To be famous nowadays means to be great. I am told by family and counsellors I myself am great. Then why am I not famous? I don’t even care how sometimes. just to see my name on the front page of something. I close my eyes and think of the headlines, 10 dead, unsuspecting middle class child to blame. The tragedy of life is that it never ends. 10 dead the world goes on, I changed nothing. So I don’t follow through with my thoughts.