Mr_Fluffykins
Bluelighter
Was depressed, drunk, high, and on a bit of diphenhydramine
written in stream of consiousness and is the start of my novel
haven't spell checked it yet either, for its authenticity,
Chapter 1: This Day
The Morning it was, if I can remember. A cold fucking November morning. No snow on the ground yet, but inside your lungs when you inhaled you could feel the cold in your lungs. How could I have known this might have been the last day I felt that cold in my lungs. I don’t know if I would have even wished to have know that this would be my last day doing a lot of things. If someone had walked up to me and told me that after today I would never : walk, talk, go outside, blink, or move anything from my neck down again, I would have thought they were full of shit.
The bus was late, fucking public transport never did well, especially as the days got colder, freezing our asses off breathing in and out this cold air, and seeing the condensation from our breath in the air as we exhale. All I could think about were my fingers freezing, my toes freezing. I doubt if I could have seen into the future what was going to happen would I have complained of the cold, or the feeling.
As these memories come sinking back to be, I just wish I had some way to show them to the world, no way of communication , but with an undamaged brain, my mind is the only thing keeping me going, doing jumping jacks, working overtime.
I keep getting sidetracked in my own thoughts, its all I have left, now I am just narrating to myself because I really have no one to talk to, its like a boring bloody book, no way to fucking get out and reach people, no way to touch peoples souls. I want to be able to touch souls, but instead im just this blob that’s sitting here, sitting here, taking everything in like a sponge yet not expelling anything besides my own waste.
The bus finally came. FUCK. Here I go again, going into school, my last day of school, walking down the halls like a fucking zombie. Going from class to class, to lunch, to class to class to home, every single day. As much as I want to learn I just can’t, I just can’t focus on anything , well at least nothing school related . and in hindsight, if I could have seen the future, I would have even been going to school today, I would have been running far away, trying to be free, freedom something I will never have.
My bus ride consisted of the same bullshit I was used to , being over packed, and filled with people I hated, even if I did hate them for no particular reason, just sheep filling in a useless role as a high school student without an identity. Not even the goth kids had an identity, just fitting into the stereotype of gothkid/emokid/punkkid. There was a certain need for a certain percentage of these goth/metal/emo/punk kids to exist, and form some sort of mass joined consciousness.
Then There would be the wanna be gangsta kids, living in a suburban neighborhood, listening to rap religiously, like it was some form of art sent from the gods. These kids looking up to some criminal, who can flow, some criminal that can put their voice down to a funky beat and a type of music that really only actually appeals to certain parks of brain, in a sorta of a guilty pleasure way.
Just way to many people on this bus, at least to me in my mind what I was thinking is that this was another day, and the worst part of the day is when I have to sway back and forth on this not well controlled bus. Feeling maybe claustrophobic, but I hell its not even that bad, at least its some sort of human contact, something that I truly would not be able to participate in after this day. The music was blaring in my ear at this point, and I was only really half listening to it, I think it was my favorite Beatles album sergeant peppers, but music at this point was just background noise to the heavy thought that were going through my head, maybe mood enhancers, maybe all this music I was listening to augmented the way I was thinking and changed the way I connected with everything on this earth.
For minutes and minutes more people started pilling on the bus, and more people started squishing and jamming together, like Tetris pieces that don’t quite fit, I mean like a jigsaw puzzle and your trying to put all these peaces in together and it just doesn’t quite work because the different pieces are place incorrectly causing friction, causing difference and agitation to all these sheep riding the bus.
written in stream of consiousness and is the start of my novel
haven't spell checked it yet either, for its authenticity,
Chapter 1: This Day
The Morning it was, if I can remember. A cold fucking November morning. No snow on the ground yet, but inside your lungs when you inhaled you could feel the cold in your lungs. How could I have known this might have been the last day I felt that cold in my lungs. I don’t know if I would have even wished to have know that this would be my last day doing a lot of things. If someone had walked up to me and told me that after today I would never : walk, talk, go outside, blink, or move anything from my neck down again, I would have thought they were full of shit.
The bus was late, fucking public transport never did well, especially as the days got colder, freezing our asses off breathing in and out this cold air, and seeing the condensation from our breath in the air as we exhale. All I could think about were my fingers freezing, my toes freezing. I doubt if I could have seen into the future what was going to happen would I have complained of the cold, or the feeling.
As these memories come sinking back to be, I just wish I had some way to show them to the world, no way of communication , but with an undamaged brain, my mind is the only thing keeping me going, doing jumping jacks, working overtime.
I keep getting sidetracked in my own thoughts, its all I have left, now I am just narrating to myself because I really have no one to talk to, its like a boring bloody book, no way to fucking get out and reach people, no way to touch peoples souls. I want to be able to touch souls, but instead im just this blob that’s sitting here, sitting here, taking everything in like a sponge yet not expelling anything besides my own waste.
The bus finally came. FUCK. Here I go again, going into school, my last day of school, walking down the halls like a fucking zombie. Going from class to class, to lunch, to class to class to home, every single day. As much as I want to learn I just can’t, I just can’t focus on anything , well at least nothing school related . and in hindsight, if I could have seen the future, I would have even been going to school today, I would have been running far away, trying to be free, freedom something I will never have.
My bus ride consisted of the same bullshit I was used to , being over packed, and filled with people I hated, even if I did hate them for no particular reason, just sheep filling in a useless role as a high school student without an identity. Not even the goth kids had an identity, just fitting into the stereotype of gothkid/emokid/punkkid. There was a certain need for a certain percentage of these goth/metal/emo/punk kids to exist, and form some sort of mass joined consciousness.
Then There would be the wanna be gangsta kids, living in a suburban neighborhood, listening to rap religiously, like it was some form of art sent from the gods. These kids looking up to some criminal, who can flow, some criminal that can put their voice down to a funky beat and a type of music that really only actually appeals to certain parks of brain, in a sorta of a guilty pleasure way.
Just way to many people on this bus, at least to me in my mind what I was thinking is that this was another day, and the worst part of the day is when I have to sway back and forth on this not well controlled bus. Feeling maybe claustrophobic, but I hell its not even that bad, at least its some sort of human contact, something that I truly would not be able to participate in after this day. The music was blaring in my ear at this point, and I was only really half listening to it, I think it was my favorite Beatles album sergeant peppers, but music at this point was just background noise to the heavy thought that were going through my head, maybe mood enhancers, maybe all this music I was listening to augmented the way I was thinking and changed the way I connected with everything on this earth.
For minutes and minutes more people started pilling on the bus, and more people started squishing and jamming together, like Tetris pieces that don’t quite fit, I mean like a jigsaw puzzle and your trying to put all these peaces in together and it just doesn’t quite work because the different pieces are place incorrectly causing friction, causing difference and agitation to all these sheep riding the bus.
