The Storm

The Storm is finally on its way. The air rattles with suspense, and the clouds turn darker and darker.

Its nothing in comparison with some storms I have seen, but at least this one is timely.

My jaw aches, my eyes are heavy. I am trying to sleep, but every time I hear a clap of thunder my eyes are drawn back open and dart a glance over to my un-curtained window.

Its all getting too much, even to just lay here costs me more effort then I am willing to spend, but to get up and read, or draw would only distract me more from the real reason I am still awake at this ungodly hour.

Not that there is such a thing as a godly hour, each hour is as tiresome and satanic as the next if you live a certain type of life. Just because an hour has its place in daylight does not make it godly surely, crimes are committed in the daytime too.

I feel that I have come so far from that youthful fool I was, aged 17, at Liverpool street station. This is the first time I have mentioned it, but not I can assure you the first time I have thought about it. Because that was so pure, so motiveless, if anything it was pure because I lost out. I had no selfish motive. Now I find myself chasing things because I have too, because that seems to be what I need or what I want, rather then because the heart in me is telling me it is the best thing I should do so.

Where did that heart of mine go? The heart that felt so intensely about one thing, that everything else was thrown away to the dogs. Where did all the good times go? One of the most commonly wondered questions, I suppose.

But then considering it, I was just as intensely unhappy as I am now. I couldnt sleep, I felt brain dead, I remember the pain that had shot through my heart nearly killed me with every breath.

Who really cares about the future? We buy and build saying we are protecting our future interests, but really we want the comfort of these things to surround us for the now. A house, some shoes, a nice leather bag. These are the things that we think can make us feel happy as we walk down the street. The only thing that could make me happy as I walk down the street is a falling brick.

It is true that I occasionally find comfort with a nice wine and some good company. But I cant help but feel that these moments are all relative compared with the remaining hours of any day.

The looks you exchange are so complex that even you dont understand them, until much later. That first glance at a person, and the thoughts that follow are often so different from how you end up feeling, It is just a matter of time. So how long, then, should we continue to trust our own feelings, if they change more and more frequently?

The same way I can say a single word repeatedly for seven hours straight without knowing why, I can continue drawing breath without understanding why I make myself. Surely there should be a natural off button you can press, without having to go through a whole heartbreaking process of turning the function off yourself, and all the damage that occurs in the meantime. It seems we have a design fault after all. That and the whole potential for evil thing, of course.

If I had created humans, no wait. Stop right there, I would never have created us in the first place. What was I thinking.

Humanity is carnage, spiritually, bodily, mentally, eternally.

There is nothing we can do to escape the permanent damage we do to ourselves and those we surround ourselves with. And in many ways, we mean to do it. We like people to put up with us, it makes us feel loved. But people put up with people because if they didnt they would be alone. Because just once every now and again it is nice to be able to look a person in the eye and think ‘you dont want me to be alone, you want to spend your worthless hours in my worthless company’.

Yes, every now and again that is a nice thought. And just when you think you can take no more, and you are reaching for the natural switch that isnt there, you stop and get a flash of the faces of the people you stay for. They are never perfect, more often then not they have the same faults as yourself, and that makes them all the more endearing, because they have hours too. They have the same lack of switch. They have the same sleepless nights, and electric atmospheres that plague your own mind, and still the continue. Maybe not for the same reasons as you, but youd never know. Well, we just dont talk about these things do we.

Is there really any reason to think like this, many people have said to me. I fail to reply. Because give me a reason for anything. Tell me why you have children and bring them up to drop litter, spit at their teachers and abuse alcohol. Tell me why you drive your 5 seater car everyday with just you sitting into it, while the roads are so busy they have to tax you to pay for the wear on the tarmac. Tell me why I live on 4 thousand pounds a year, while you lived on 300 thousand pounds a year. Is there really a reason for anything. You tell me.

So before you challenge my way of thinking, challenge your own. I guess I do have a reply after all.

Am I angry? yes I suppose I am. Am I frustrated? yes I definatly am. Am I wrong? very probably, yes.

Where do the boundaries of right and wrong begin anyway. I am hitting all the cliché check boxes here with my morality survey, and this is something people have been doing since the beginning of time I realise, but why, if we have been vigorously raking over these questions, do we still have no answers.

I know we are not the most intelligent of species from my own experience, but I know we are the most heartfelt of all creatures. Everything we do is based, even unintentionally, on our most basic of instincts. Like that day, when I went to London looking for what ever it was I was hoping to find, and taking with me a backpack of my most favourite (humanly, not my most practical) goods, and fifteen quid train fare. And I didnt need anything else.

Unlike now, when I feel everything but. Nothing is enough, and I crave everything I cant or shouldnt have. Light has turned to dark, the sky is more blue now then I have ever seen it and it is the middle of the night. Almost.

I had to stop saying I dont care and change it to I dont mind. It sounds less aggressive that way. Or so I was told. To me I dont care means just that. It reflected exactly the sentiments I wanted to put across. But it is too aggressive. So ok, I dont mind. I wont mind. If I do.

I have cheated you out of your hours. You have read these words, and understood (or maybe you have been creasing the pages of the book with frustration at my lack of ability) maybe you have underlined the sentences you particularly liked, maybe you have been given or have leant

this copy from a friend, maybe you just liked the front cover. In any case, I hope you didnt have anything better to be doing all this time. At least I know that by holding you to this the last few words I have stopped you reaching for that un-natural switch for a little while longer.

xXx