Repetition

Last night I was thinking about the word Ridiculous.

I was thinking about alternative ways to pronounce it -RIdiculous. RiDICulous. RIDICUlous.RIDIcuLOUS-and then.... BAM! 
It got stuck in my head.
And it just kept going on this circle, repeating the many different ways I'd figured out to pronounce it.
It just kept going and going and going and going....
and I couldn't turn it off.

Like a compulsion. Like my brain just couldn't, wouldn't stop. So it didn't.
Like there was nothing in the world that could have made it go away.

I covered my head, hummed, listened to the radio, listened to old CD's... I shut my eyes, held them tight, tighter. But nothing worked. That stupid word just kept going and going through my head.

Now I hate the word.
It sounds painful and repetitive to me.
And it shows I have absolutely no control over what I think about.

So, I guess you could say, if I was thinking about a certain event, or night... I guess you could say it might do the same thing as that word.
And I guess you could say it's a little scary.

See the lightning in your eyes

So I've been thinking.
Thinking, that why the fuck does IT get to dictate my life?
and
Why is it so fixed, that I'm stuck in that same rut
as every
other
person?

I've been thinking, and.
I don't like the way things are.

I don't like feeling like shit everytime someone says they like my shirt.
I don't like wondering if they actually mean it, or if they're just saying it to make fun of me.
I don't like questioning every word that comes out of someone's mouth.
I don't like choking, because I'm crying, but I'm not really crying.

No, I don't like it. I don't like any of it.

I don't like that hollow feeling. The feeling of being empty.
The one that echoes throughout your thoughts, repeating the same words, over and over again...
"Your fault, your fault, your fault, your fault, your fault..." 


I no longer wish to identify with this.

So now it's gone.
Poof.

Out of my life.
Out of my thoughts.
Out of my circle.

I disown it.
Alienate it.

It's gonegonegone! and it can't come back.

All right. So that's it, then.

Anxiety

Nova and Ellie sit back to back, typing away on the computers in front of them. Nova watches her screen light up, typing in her password and username.
"Fucking hate this," she mumbles. "Fucking stupid ass computer doesn't load."
Ellie laughs from behind her, wondering if Nova realizes that teachers always hear her swearing.

Melanie walks in the door just near their computers and sits down on a chair near them.
"I don't have to go to school tomorrow," she gloats.
Nova looks at Melanie, in wonderment.
"Lucky," she sighs.
"Yeah. But why not?" Ellie gives up on getting her computer to load and turns her body towards Melanie.
"Because I'm going to the doctor with my mom to pick up anxiety pills." She smiles.

"Anxiety pills are highly addictive," Nova says bitterly, jealous that, Melanie, someone who has barely any anxiety at all, should be allowed pills to make it go away.
"I don't mind," Melanie laughs, hinting.
'Because you're a bitch-ass druggie,' Nova thinks. She stays silent, though, because that's who she is.
"Ha."
Nova watches Melanie, staring glumly at her yellow sweater. It's thick, and looks like it would be nice to lay on. She decides that if she's ever stuck in the woods, she'd like to have that sweater to cry into.

"Yeah." Melanie stands up and walks away.

Once she's out of earshot, Ellie grumbles.
"She wouldn't be flaunting her anxiety if she had it," she says.
Nova nods. She wants to say that she's got really bad anxiety,
that sometimes she can't even make it to school
because
she just can't.
But instead she returns her attention back to her computer screen, waiting patiently for it to load.

'Maybe she's got bad anxiety too,' Nova plays with the idea.
'Maybe.'

Character analysis: Part 1

"How would you feel if your school decided to change?" asked MissTeacher.
Nova listened intently, willing her stomach to stop screaming.
"The idea of making your own schedules. How would you feel about that?"
A boy in the back of the class, Raphael, raised his hand.
"I think I'd do well in that environment," he said. "I could get my work done in my own time and sleep in late."
MissTeacher smiled, disappointed, and tried to steer his thoughts in the right direction.
"But what about planning out your whole year? Could you look at a calender, look at the curriculum, and know exactly how you were going to complete all of it, and when?"
Raphael shrugged, not so sure now.
"And what about if you made all your choices at home? If you chose when and what you ate, all the time?"
Nova looked around, but no one raised their hands.
'I wouldn't eat anything at all,' Nova thought to herself. 'I would be pretty.'

"I mean, when I was your ages, I would have had pancakes, pizza and ice cream, all the time."
Nova smiled, but said nothing.
"That wouldn't be very healthy at all, would it?"

The class was silent, but thinking.
MissTeacher stopped talking to let them think.

When the bell rang, Nova stood up and slung her bag over one shoulder. Ellie and Mara grabbed their bags and headed for their lockers, walking in a small group.
"Oh god, my stomach's such an ass," Mara complained.
Ellie laughed. "Mine too. It wouldn't stop grumbling the entire lesson," she said, then made a noise, close to what it sounded like.
Nova fell into step with them and smiled.
'One out of three girls self-harm. One out of three girls self-harm.'

"You going out for lunch?" Nova asked Ellie.
Ellie shrugged. "I'm not really eating today."
"Oh." Nova wondered if every girl in their group really did schedule their own eating, and if they did it the same way she did.
"Hey, but I'll go out with you if you're going to Bankers St." Ellie stopped talking and stared at Nova's hair intently.
"Wait," she said, reaching up. "You've got a fluff in your hair."
Nova smiled, knowing it only reflected inside herself. Like a light shining into her, but showing darkness to all the other people around her.
"Thanks," Nova laughed.
"And yeah. I'm probably going to just head for the posts, though. Just hang there." Ellie nodded, still staring at Nova's hair.
"All right, I'll come with you." But Ellie wasn't thinking about lunch. She was thinking about Nova.
Nova has such pretty hair, down to her shoulders in small, dark-brown waves. Ellie was envious. Always paying attention to it. Her own hair mirrored her mothers. Dirty blond, and flat. Not very exciting.
But Nova's gave her an hair of mystery.
She wondered what Nova was thinking about, this very moment, but silenced her thoughts when Mara walked up and put her arms on Ellie's shoulders.
"Bugger. I really hate Science. It's boring as shit," Mara exclaimed. "We should do something more exciting, like, watching grass grow, or something."
Ellie nodded, smiling, pretending to be as exasperated as Mara. But she almost liked science. It was informative, sometimes. And their teacher wasn't particularly bad at teaching, so.
"Right, well I'm heading out," Nova said suddenly, zoning back into the world.
"Me too," Ellie stated, affirmatively.
"You guys going to the posts?" Mara asked, applying some chap-stick in her locker mirror.
"Yeah," Ellie said.
"Mind if I join you?"
Nova smiled and closed Mara's locker. "Come on," she said. "Let's go."

I'll wait.

Hey, love. I promise you I'll be waiting for you
when you decide to find me.
With my bags already packed,
and my luggage right behind me.
Love, my dear,
I'll have the car all tuned up,
my money in my wallet.
There's no way we'll mess this up.
I promise the road will stretch out in front of us,
I promise the silence won't last.
Love, babe. I swear,
everything will be okay.
I promise you,
there won't be anything left to bare.
And the stars will all surround us,
dusty in the sky.
And the space that's all around us,
it'll all be just fine.

Love, my girl.
I've got my maps and charts
behind me.
And the world,
all this,
it's waiting for you to find me.

Grab your life
and hold on tight.
We're flying forward,
straight through the night.
We're blasting music,
the noise too high.
It's perfect, lovely, free-wing.
We'll be together when the time is right.

Dance class

Today, I was swept off my feet.

I didn't he think could carry me. But somehow, he lifted me with ease and wouldn't put me down.

He argued it was part of the balance part of dance.
Balance, but I wasn't dancing with his group.

Hm.

Don't go blind on me.

It's a metaphor, and you have to figure it out. 

I'm not going to tell you,

again

and again

what it means because,

you should really

already

know.