The Static Calls Your Name

Febuary 3rd -Jack

The start is not a always the begining. The beginning of your story with someone else can hide much of what happened before them.  Just like rain really... The day may have started with the rain pelting on the windows, but that doesn't mean it's always been raining.

People love to make assumptions and they say that 'assuming makes me ass of you and me' but really we, as humans, are always looking to rationalise everything we see. We are wired that way, predictability is what makes us feel safe, so who can blame anyone for 'assuming '. I suppose this is what people call 'shower thoughts' , well my kind of shower anyway. Just sitting here on the fire escape listening to the rain 'pat, pat, pat ' on the surrounding buildings and streets. My green hair clinging to my face as the droplets clean my mind, washing away every thought, problem , and insecurity. I know my clothes are drenched but I couldn't feel the cold anymore, I've been out here so long just feeling the pat, pat ,patting of the rain upon me. Just screaming as loud as I can , letting everything out while I can. The best part about the rain is that no one can see your tears , you can't be seen as weak and broken because no one knows.

It strange how much I love water but I have a fear of it. Then again water is the essence of life, without it we would all simply die, but drowning .... The ocean as well....
I've always found comfort in the rain, the only thing that would handle my instability, my outbursts, my rage, and self loathing. While most would run for cover or use anything to try and keep dry, I embrace it looking up to the sky, letting the water flow down me. I love the feeling of being soaked through, I love feeling the rain on my skin like gentle kisses from the heavens,  it reminds me that I'm alive. I've made it this far.

For now the sounds within my head are hushed to a low buzzing as the rain takes over, pushing back the oncoming migraine. The rain has that effect on me, even in the greatest pain the rain can wash it all away. I don't know whether it's the sound, the temperature , or the actual feeling... All I know is that it works. I can vent out everything that I bottle inside of me without being judged and reprimanded for my actions.

A new apartment in the middle of the city, in America of all places.
This is the start of a new chapter, this is supposed to be "new and exciting" , so why am I overcome with dread ? A new place in the middle of the city.... to escape the past, but it seems to stick and cling you your back like an unseen parasite. Haunting memories , guilt, and paranoia lurks round every corner, waiting till the perfect moment to pounce. The harsh reality is that this doesn't just go away.
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After the rain had slowed to a stop, Jack had took it upon himself to climb back through his window, back inside. His long sleeve shirt and black jeans were soaked through from his activities along with his bright green hair that was now clung to his face, his pale skin now painted with pink cheeks from the cold.
He began to feel it but couldn't even shiver.
He began to feel the hunger , but didn't eat.
For once he gave in to sleep, his many nights awake finally getting to him.
Over come with exhaustion he threw off his drenched clothes , slipping on a pair of grey jogging bottoms and curled up with a blanket on the sofa. Slipping into some much needed sleep.
After all, sleep is just death without commitment.

The reality is that these thoughts don't just go away...