The wind blows and the chips fall and the time ticks away. The sun rises and falls, and the day advances. The alarm clock blares, and with a groping reach I smack it. The responsibilities of another day and another week and another semester weigh down on me. What does tomorrow hold? More of the same. More of the same. The deadlines will come and the deadlines will go. The pressure will eventually release, and I’ll shout for joy. But until then I’m trapped in this box. The walls are closing in and the air is running out. What do I do? What does anybody do? This box must be glass, because no one else sees me struggle, like a rat in a cage. It’s been said that people in glass boxes should always wear clothes. You have to find some way to hide behind the naked hurt inside. You shouldn’t throw stones at people in glass boxes either. They’ve already been shattered. But what do I know? I’m just a stupid kid. Not quite a bus driver, but maybe close. They see you’ve lost that loving feeling, and the waitress laughs and forgets my coffee cake. She doesn’t know. And neither do you. I can’t expect you to. The feeling may not be gone, but it’s definitely being questioned. Not by me, but by you. But your questioning causes my heart to ache. It just doesn’t understand. I try to be patient. I cling to that patience. But the only way I survive is to bury my hurt under a pile of busyness. If it’s lost beneath the pile of papers on my desk it can’t hurt me, can it? What you don’t know can’t hurt you. What you cannot see is not there. Is that so? I don’t know. But I don’t think so. You should know so. I don’t question what is happening. I just wish it would hurry up and be over with. That’s the joy of it though, isn’t it. What’s one year of pain in a life of sixty-eight? Well, it’s one year. Insignificant then, but monumental now. Ironic, isn’t it. But that’s life. That’s life. Is anybody out there? Yes, you are and no, you aren’t. Yes you are, because you all think I’m nuts. And no you’re not, because you just don’t understand.

I think I’m going to go for a walk now.

(To everyone concerned about my psychological state: Don’t worry, I’m just having fun expressing my feelings by throwing every reference that comes to mind in there. See how many you can pick out. Songs and quotes and such. It’s kind of a game. Mom, this means you.)

Have you ever had one of those days where you look back and it doesn’t seem like it happened? Nothing important stands out and the day just kind of washes together as a big nothing. The morning feels like last month and the afternoon feels like last week. It wasn’t necessarily a long day, just a rather odd day. At least it’s Friday, I can now sleep the oddness away. I think I’ve found the birthplace of apathy.

Have you ever had something so immense to deal with that you just don’t know what to do? Your fingers are trembling, your stomach feels twisted in knots, and there’s a large lump in your throat that can only be your heart. You don’t know what to do, what to think, what to say, or how to react in any way. You just want to run out the door and out into the street and scream. You want to do something so bizarre, as if you were in a movie. Just go out the door and take a walk, even if it’s midnight, and walk until the sun rises. Do something odd, bizarre, and totally out of character because you’ve just undergone such a shock that you don’t know what to do.

Yeah, well I’m going for a walk.

(for those worried about my psychological state, don’t worry, I’ll be fine)

Sometimes I ask myself what I’m doing, and I just don’t know the answer.

Ever feel like you’re talking to a brick wall? I talk about my day, and they don’t seem to care. I talk about how I feel, and they just ignore me. Maybe they didn’t hear me. Hello? I ask a question and they don’t answer. So I ask again, and they don’t answer. I ask a third time and no answer. Why am I being ignored? You’re not supposed to be a brick wall. When someone puts their heart on the line, at the least you acknowledge it. You don’t ignore it. I can only hope I’m not being heard, because I just don’t understand. Have I done something wrong? Or is this just the way things are going? I certainly hope not, because my heart is growing bitter, building its own brick wall. And that’s the last thing I want to do. Ever feel like you’re talking to a brick wall? It hurts.

What secret lies transpire in the hidden rooms of your heart? What do you do behind closed doors, in empty rooms, when no one is watching? Who do you hate? What kind of a wretched person are you when no one is around to watch you be good? What can you get away with? If no one will ever know, is everything all right? But someone is watching and knows every secret action, word, and thought. You thought you were all alone, but someone was watching, shedding a silent tear for your misgivings.