*"It's dark"* (...) *"Oh yea, I should open my eyes"*
Coming into focus as he opens his eyes, lying on the bed still half asleep he sees the white ceiling of his room.
*"Why is the act of waking up so....."* (....) [Sigh]
*"You're still stuck on waking up yesterday?... dumb ass"*
As he begins to focus and wake up, he slowly sits up. Yawns ... and get out of bed. "Well, looks like today is going to be a great day" sarcastically addressing the open space of his room filled with nothing but a twin sized blow up bed with a bottle of Germ-X placed at the head of it.
Getting up, he addresses his readers of the internal dialog he sees as inherently illusionary, speaking as he gets ready for the day..
Speaking in a loud tone: "So.. I would guess you're reading the story of my life again" ...
*"I wonder if they can read what I dream about.."*
"Dont feel too weird with me talking to you.. I know you're not real.. But I guess to you, Im not real either.."
"If you have the chance, tell the almighty god of this story to presently fuck off.. And fix me. He created me, he should just write in the part where he fixes me, gives me lots of money, and then give me a pleasantly addressed mind fuck of a sexual experience with a lovely dime, followed by...." [Tiss]
*"Im talking to no one.. What the fuck is wrong with me..."*
*"Well if I was talking to someone.. Is there people in my head?.. No... I'm just talking to my delusional mind, full of voices..... Gah! Its too complex to visualize"*
As he notices himself day dreaming while getting ready for the day, he shakes his head, clearing the thoughts out by force, making him a bit dizzy.
He steps out of his house in a fresh pair of clothes, jeans and a t-shirt, his white shoes.. Something you could wear to a date for sure. His house something out of a magazine. Gree grass, perfect while and blue paint job that fits well with the decorations of flowers around the house. Something you wouldn't imagine could be owned by this unbecoming guy.. A fact he is very well aware of.
*"I work as a programmer, and love my job... Did I eat breakfast?... Nope. Shit.. Oh well"*
*"OH WELL?? WTF IS WRONG WITH ME??!! EAT BREAKFAST! I'LL STARVE! I CANT MAKE IT ON THE CALORIES I HAVE NOW! I'LL GO INTO SHOCK! DON'T DO IT!!!!! WHAT IF I GET FIRED FROM MY LOW ENERGY AND I MESS UP???"* --
"Shut up"... As he shakes his head.. "Voices will you... Shut up already"
*"It hurts, my heart hurts, i feel like im going to cry!"*
*"I'M GOING TO HAVE LOW ENERGY! I'LL GET FIRED! I should just not go... I'll get fired anyway.. Do I smell nice? Am I dying? Do I have enough nutrients? I will miss my morning meal, so I wont have energy.. I wont have energy.. I wont have energy.. I cant goto work without energy.. I'll get fired.. My work will be slow.. Ill be slow.. I'll mess up.."*
As he starts to lose his mind to thought he begins counting as he starts walking "1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10..."
While reaching his car he had gotten recently from a friend he works with.. He takes a moment to savor the red Benz and cool his head before getting in.
YOU ARE READING
Writings Of A-Strange
General FictionA man with phobias and disorders, grapples the reality around him. Dealing with philosophical questions he compulsively asks himself without consequential answer, delving into the mystery of the delusions he recognizes and analyses as his everyday l...
