It takes more time than I’ve ever had...
"...drains the life from me and makes me want to forget. As young as I was, I felt older back then: more disciplined, stronger and certain. But I was scared to death of eternity. I was saved by grace, but destroyed by naivety. And I lied to myself and said, 'it was for the best.'..."
I am singing...
Out loud...
Again...
Amidst shooting pangs from this recurring migraine I have had all week.
It crawls from my spine to my neck, digs deep into the muscles and swiftly burrows until it reaches my forehead...leaving no mercy in its wake. Countless brain cells destroyed like villagers in the calamity of an attacking monster...
It hurts a little.
I keep finding myself going through strange mood swings as a result, where I am as high as a kite one moment, and then one insult (like when someone insulted my accidental singing yesterday) sends me flying in a trillion different directions.
I never know when the apex arrives, but the abrupt snaps I send toward coworkers, friends and classmates lets me know that It's happened.
Oftentimes, I find myself as surprised as the recipient...
...other times, not so much.
One more exam to knock out before I can just let my brain stop working.
I plan on eating cake tonight...somehow.
It will be considered a celebratory moment:
"David has managed to not die or hurt anyone in his lapse of sanity..."
The cake might also be a lie.
I have nothing good to say about school right now. I want out...arguably, I'm on a five-year long binge of "senioritis" but this year has hit me particularly hard in all aspects of my life save for the workplace. I still work like a horse - injured though it may be.
My fix subsides slowly...
The metaphorical methadone to my metaphorical heroine takes effect.
...if you've known me longer than a year, then you should know what I mean.
And this case is especially bad.
I'll relapse on November 13, when a new chemical rears its ugly face. The impending "wrath" will surely devastate the every fiber of my being. And in it, I will find a faux-happiness...like Christmas morning or a Birthday. Maybe less.
For those of you just joining us, don't look to get some real explanations of my metaphors. It's not my style. I write here to soothe my inner demons that thirst for "creative writing" whilst I whittle away my hours in an "objective writing" office.
I edit stories about the worst NCAA football team in the nation...it's more rewarding than it sounds, I promise. It affords me a lot of laughter.
At any rate, I'm not done singing.
I have one more exam in 20 minutes (give or take).
I'm going to pass because I want to...not because I studied enough.
Sometimes my ambition makes me remember things I know I never learned...it comes at the cost of dignity and my soul. Given enough time, I will accidentally stumble across the meaning of life; I plan on bargaining your soul away for that revelation. A hefty price to pay for premature enlightenment, but you'll thank me from your perch overlooking eternity in the afterlife.
sayonara,
David A. Lucio
"...Now faith is replaced with a logic so cold. I've disregarded what I was, now that I'm older. And I know much more than I did back then, but the more I learn, the more I can't understand. I've become content with this life that I lead where I drink to much and don't believe in much of anything. So I lie to myself and say, 'it's for the best'..."