The Muse

Another night on the town, another bar packed with strangers... Why this was my friends' idea of fun, or why they would think that I might find it enjoyable, I have no idea. Actually, that's not entirely true, my friends think that they're doing me a favor by dragging me off to some bar or club so I can hook up with some chick who won't be able to remember most of what happened anyway. It's not like I have a problem with the ladies, I'm a decent-looking guy, but I don't really see the point of having sex just to have had sex...especially not with someone who needs at least half a dozen shots of tequila to "loosen up". Besides, most of the women just wind up looking at me like I'm some brainless hunk of meat. Some of them use gender equality as an excuse, as in "Men constantly ogle at women, so why can't we do the same", whereas others just don't care or have their own little reasons for approaching me.
So, here I am...putting on a good show for da boyz. Be it in the name of solidarity, in the name of bromance, whatever...I just go through the motions. Smiling, laughing, pretending to listen to their stupid jokes and anecdotes, pretending to scan the room for a pretty face, drowning in the sea of laughter and idle conversation. "Ayo bro! Are you gonna drink that or what?! Or are you already narrowing down the list of honeys you wanna hunt down later?" "Hey...what about that one cute brunette we saw over by the dancefloor when we walked in?" "Dude no, did you see how big her entourage is? She ain't here to play. At least not with us." "Maybe if we can find a trio, Mark and I can distract two of them while you disappear with the third to a more private location." "Yeah, but let's make sure we find some quality chicks this time, okay?"
Blablablabbitybla... I like my friends...I do, but sometimes...okay, a lot of times...I just have to tune them out. For the sake of my own sanity, of course. Fine...so I'll look at the ladies present tonight...each and every one beautiful in her own right. Dolled up, wearing their prettiest clothes, some here on girls' night out, some here to unwind after a hectic work week, some just here for a bit of youthful fun, some here to hunt and play. And that's when my eyes fall on her...sitting at the bar...possibly the rarest of sights for this kind of place. All alone with only a vodka soda to keep her company, she seems to be scanning the room for something and yet nothing at the same time. Her body posture exudes an extraordinary level of cool and casualness, while giving off the vibe that she is in no mood to play games of any kind or with anyone. Some people stare, especially other women...and why not? She isn't adhering to some unwritten code, she simply doesn't fit. Like an errant puzzle piece, she is upsetting some kind of balance, breaking some imaginary law of nature, but in the most delicious way possible. How dare she not conform? How dare she not play along? She is the lonesome wolf refusing to operate according to the pack mentality. Through her mere presence she seems to be defying all of the superficiality and bullshit. She isn't here for them, she isn't here for me, she is just here.
I can't help it, I feel drawn to her. To her alabaster skin that reflects the blue and pink lights from the dancefloor. To her hair that is just the right amount of disheveled. To her lips that are just plump and pink enough. But especially to her eyes. They seem to be able to cut right through to the center of one's very being. Despite that meticulously-crafted tough and cool exterior, I can still see her pain and sadness, and I can't help but want to take her away. Away from these people, away from this bar, away from whatever might be hurting her. I wan't to be selfish and tell her about my feelings and what I see when I look at her. And so I find myself walking towards her with the greatest of ease. It's almost as if I'm not moving at all and the universe is merely shifting around me. Ignoring the ramblings of my friends, the glances from other people... As I get closer, I can see her eyes turn sideways ever so slightly. Great, she realizes that I'm approaching. Now what? Sure, I could always turn back...and look like a moron...but no, there's no turning back now. Come hell or high water, I will talk to her, I will at least try to get to know her. It's now or never, do or die, deep breaths, don't look like you're about to have a stroke, smile...but gently, you don't want her to call the cops...here goes nothing... "Hi..."    

Just another one of those days...

Today was just another one of those days... With no real trigger or cause I simply found myself fighting against the building pressure time and time again...and losing time and time again. Looking up to the skies (or apartment ceiling) I just felt the tears fall down my face and neck. I'm not entirely sure why I bothered to look up. Was it to pray to the heavens or universe for some kind of relief? Was I looking to somehow ease the pressure? Maybe I was just trying to prevent myself from looking like a complete mess afterwards by letting the fluid flow downward and out of my face.
I could feel my right hand clutched firmly around my throat. Not enough to choke myself in earnest, but just enough to make me feel the pressure. A pressure that was meant to be oddly calming, to counteract the pressure I was feeling on the inside. This lasted for a few seconds, until I could feel my breathing steady itself. And so I removed the hand, only to feel the next wave of sadness rise up inside of me.
They say that crying is supposed to make one feel better and provide relief, but I think that people who say that have never had to wonder when the crying will stop. I've always felt like the tears and sadness were threatening to tear me apart. As if the pain of a thousand souls were weighing on you and had yet somehow infiltrated your very being at the same time. Impending doom and destruction pulling and tugging and yet pushing and tearing away at you...it's no wonder that I try to avoid crying. The fear that it might all overpower me and finally push me over the edge and cause my whole being to be ripped apart has probably helped me build up such a strong resistance that the tears hurt more than they should.
Of course, there's also the issue of pride and dignity. Who would want to see someone like me cry? Nobody should be subjected to the sight of me period, let alone the sight of me in a vulnerable state like this. So, these were the days when I shut myself in and locked myself away from the world, even though these were the days when I needed people the most.
Getting up, I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The tear-streaked face drained of all color, the soaked eyelashes reflecting the light of the lamp, the bloodshot whites of the eyes turning the irises into brilliant emeralds shimmering in a sea of red. From a more objective point of view, one might almost say that there was an incredible beauty to my misery and despair.
As I get ready for bed, I can't help but feel relief that the end of another one of those days has finally come to an end, for the few hours of sleep will hopefully give me a chance to recover from my inner turmoil. And as a final thought, all I can think is that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be better. Maybe tomorrow will not be another one of those days...

Return to the surface

Light at the end of the tunnel
Emerging from this dark hole
Body sore and exhausted from the strain
Trouble breathing
And yet moving forward
No time to relax
The flames of passion burning more intensely than ever before
Ready to live
Ready to fight
Ready to survive
Anger, determination, love, compassion, sorrow
All flowing into one
Life and willpower returning

Unsure about the future
Will the darkness return?
No choice
Need to live
Need to fight
Need to survive
Can't stop this fire from burning
Taking slow, but steady steps
Pushing through the crowds
Never willing to give up
Never one to be messed with
Prepared to knock all the traitors back

Should the darkness still catch up
I will fight
and thrive
and even survive
Live to see a new day
And refuse to accept anything less