Claustrophobia

It’s so bright outside I can’t see. It makes me afraid. And not just of the monsters and the bad people, but of the light. Of seeing and being able to be seen. Even in a mirror I can’t see myself that clearly, so what will I see when I’m out there? I could be a monster myself by now, it’s been so long since I’ve seen myself properly. I haven’t been out since I had a choice. But fear has never kept me afraid, so one day I open the door and step out into the light.

It’s cold and still. The sun is shining, but not on me yet, so I start to walk. Out of the shadow of my home. And it’s easy. I start to whistle a few notes. I pick up my feet and glide through the world, comparing it to how it was last I saw it. It’s all brand new, yet somehow dirtier. I don’t mind at all. Before I know it I’m running. The feeling of the world flying beneath my feet is joyous. Even the bright sun burning the back of my eyes just gives energy to my smile. I grow bolder and stop and scream “What’s there to be afraid of anyway?”. But then I see them. And hear them. And smell them. They’re here. “Usssssss” they say. Monsters. Everywhere. I knew it would be like this, but I came anyway.

I am surrounded, but I have a way out. I choose not to take it. “I’m not afraid” I say, half to myself. The other half makes them laugh. “That’ll sssssoon change” they say. And I think ‘Fuck them. I’m so fucking sick of this’ even though it’s all pretty much new to me. I spit at them. And just stand there. I hit one in the face with a giant glob of snot and saliva gloriously mixed. I wish I had used my fist for a second. But only for a second, because then I give them the finger, and everything before becomes nothing. “You’ll wisssssh you hadn’t done that” they say. But I regret nothing but the things I didn’t do, so their words mean nothing to me. I wait for the violence, the attack. It doesn’t come. They just circle menacingly. I get bored.

So my eyes start to wonder. I look at my hands. In the bright sunlight, I can see the blemishes better. They don’t bother me. I see a puddle within the imaginary circle they are going around, and I look at my reflection. It’s still me. Well the back to front version of me which I always see. I’m no monster. But these guys are. So I kill them. I kill them all. The monster motto is of course, if you’re not with us then you’re against us, and who am I to redefine their rules.

I go home. It’s dark in there. I turn on the light, and look out the window.

Quitter

So you may say I have given up. My job. Smoking. Having a regular life. But I haven’t. I’ve just started.

See all my life I’ve kind of thought of the world as one big computer game. It’s not my fault really – I was brought up by TV and played a lot of them when I was young. To this day I can’t take my eyes off any sort of moving image behind a glass screen. Gambling machines in pubs. Windows out of trains and cars. Any old crap on any old TV. So not surprisingly my identification with life and reality has always been a bit hazy. Of course the things which I consume for fun hasn’t helped me either.

But my point is I realised that sometime in my teens I had been just waiting around for my life to finally start. That I’d fucked up so much so far, that I was just pissing around as I knew that eventually I would get fed up and quit and start a new game. Begin again at the beginning and get it all right. But of course along with this realisation came the fact that I knew that this would never happen. That no matter what I did, I would never get the time back which I had used up. That I had wasted. That I had been wasted during.

So I became a bit of a nihilist. Nothing mattered. Everything was about having fun. Which is fair enough I think in retrospect. I mean they were my formative years and taking it too seriously would have been just as regrettable at a later stage in life as not taking it seriously enough. But at least my way was fun.

And then I slowly by slowly began to betray myself. As I gave up on fun and tried to sort my life out, I started to listen to all the crap that I had sworn to myself that I would never listen to. To conform. And I wasn’t happy. I just thought that if I kept going for long enough that I would desensitize myself to it all, just like everyone else had. But then I remembered… I was going to do something different. I don’t need to be like everyone else. No-one does. It’s just easier to give in. So I stopped. And restarted.

As a mash-up fool once said, Suddenly I am Aware. Aware that life is big. It’s bigger than you, and you are not me. Ok, enough of the quotes. Well maybe not quite. As my point is, this isn’t the end, it’s just the beginning.