Mistletoe

December 12th

Friday December 12th

03.20pm

This day had been dreadful. Mostly because I'd woken up before dawn, again, and gone for a run, again. My mind was a mess, which seemed to be the norm these days. The fact that I didn't hold any answers not only confused me, but it annoyed me to no end; which was a conclusion I came to every single time before the whole process started again. You'd think it'd get old and my thoughts would just settle down, but no.

It seemed to be a pattern that had developed over the last week; once alone, I'd start obsessing, analyzing, trying to sort out the answers to questions I held no power over. A routine like that grows tiresome pretty quickly if I got to say so myself.

So I'd gone for a run.

After that I'd pretty much tried to drag most things out in the fear that I'd run out of things to do. My every day life usually consisted of two things; schoolwork and my actual job. Take both of them out of the equation and where did that leave me?

It was days like these that I realized I was a pretty boring person, or a person with a very uneventful life to say the least. I supposed it was one of the curses of being ahead with my schoolwork and pulling so many shifts that I was instructed to have certain days off. But still. You'd think I still had a life beside that.

Right now I couldn't remember what that said life entailed.

For a while I'd tried prepping for my exam, but since it was a home exam where I, firstly, got to use my book as much as I please anyway and, secondly, didn't know the definitive task of I lost interest fairly quickly.

With everyone else gone for the day, either because of school, work or errands, the house had also seemed abnormally large to which my solution had been to escape. I was currently seated in the park beneath what I had now come to look at as my cherry blossom tree.

I had to admit that claiming a piece of public property, not to mention a tree, as my own might have said a lot about my mental state, even I couldn't deny that it was strange. Still, it had over time become my spot and I couldn't imagine sitting anywhere else in the otherwise fairly vast park.

My sketchpad rested against my thigh and knee, and the box that held my pencils lay beside me on the ground as I switched between different pencil as to what pressure I needed. I was currently executing a solution that had worked well for me in the past; when I couldn't get anything out of my head, get it down on paper because that way I'd transfer my fixation from one place to another.

That was the reason why a black and white version of Parker's laughing face was currently staring me in the face. His head was thrown back and his entire face was consumed by this one act; laughing. In a way it was hypnotic and once I began adding details to create more depth to the image it also became carefree.

I had filled several pages before this very picture of different sketches of Parker. Be it only his eyes, or him walking backwards, Parker with a faraway look in his eyes or simply Parker smiling. The case was now that he occupied several of the latest used pages of my sketchbook, which was kind of unnerving.

I was obsessing and I was painfully aware of the fact.

The most pathetic part was probably how obvious my obsession was as well, not just to me - although that was alarmingly clear - but to anyone around me if they just chose to pay attention.

But the thing was that I didn't know what to do with myself, and so I'd taken to transferring my obsession onto paper in the hopes that it would cure the unhealthy obsession in my head.