Monday, October 29, 2012

The Perks of Good Behaviour

"He was on his best behaviour, but that wasn't  good enough."

That's the prompt I've been mostly thinking about writing on for the past few weeks. I've put words down, edited, scrapped, ignored and given up on what I wrote. I haven't figured out how to make a narrative appear and I still don't think I fully understand the concept of prose but I did attempt both. Whatever follows is just whatever flowed from my mind, later organized for verbal cohesiveness with as little deletion as I could bear.

He finds himself pacing the floor. As he paces either his hands are containing something unseen coming from his head or his fingers feeling around for air like a crawling bug's legs. Every thought buried at the back of his mind appears to be fighting to escape their box as if reacting to Pandora's presence. It's like he finally ran out of space to suppress them in. This creates noise in his head. An unequivocal cacophony. Sometimes he presses himself against the burglar bars on the single window in his bedroom. Because, obviously, it's the freshest air there is and there's no other way to get to it. He googles "panic attack" and is somewhat relieved at his discovery, he's not unique. Then he has another.

He doesn't know what to do with his life. He can't afford the college he applied to and doesn't know how to call it off. He has an anxiety attack every time he thinks of calling Canada to figure out how. The fees are due next week. He has an attack whenever he thinks of how his degree feels useless to him. He's attacked every time he sees no marketable skills to put on his resume. Just promise and he doesn't know how to wield that.

In an effort to shut the noise out, his phone has been in flight mode since Thursday. It's Monday. He doubted anybody would call anyway but his phone is capable of other means of contact and since he still wants to listen to music, off isn't an option. He needs to hear Kendrick's new album on the go between his room and the kitchen. Sometimes even as far as the back yard. He didn't want to go anywhere else for a while. Kendrick's a great storyteller.

He hasn't been on facebook. He hasn't been on twitter. He's kept every chat app he has closed. Seeing people living with any modecum of purpose despite not having life figured out while he just sits there depresses him. Thinking about the obvious responses to his quagmire depresses him too so he'll just have none of that. Any of that. He visits tumblr though. Nobody bothers him there as he curates what he perceives to be beautiful things. He did notice via email that someone he values DM'ed needing a book returned but that's it. In retrospect, that book could be helping him too. Regardless he hopes they can shift their paradigm.

He decides that he would open up channels of communication on meeting an ultimatum. Only after he acted on this prompt. The one he said he would. That's the only way he can motivate himself these days, with an conditions, and even that only works sometimes. Nobody pushed him in general very much. He was never a nuisance and was easily out of mind. Although he doesn't blame others completely for his outcome.

He was on his best behaviour, but that wasn't good enough. He always was. Despite good behaviour never getting him anything besides patronizing. It never let him make mistakes. He didn't get the chance to learn from the errors and become a fully functioning adult.  At least this one thing will be done. Who knows, maybe somebody actually wanted to reach him these past days with something that doesn't make him angry. He's easily angered nowadays but he doesn't quite know why.

Now Playing 'Red Face' - Lucy Rose

I still haven't quite figured paragraphs out


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