Prose on the events of the week
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Posts: 6
Prose on the events of the week
It’s rarely quiet in the morning. The noise grows. It’s 8:20 and everyone is here. The noise continues to grow. Fights erupt. I hear one anguished, anxious voice. The voice is pleading, desperate, crying, attention seeking and tortured. Face is red, and his tears drop slowly.
The noise settles down. But few seconds later, it explodes and grows even louder. Angry voices, declaring over and over the anxiety and frustration. Voices with attitudes and voices with doubt. Whispers are rare and in this noise, I drift a little. You can get lost in this clamor.
It’s later in the day, surroundings are dull and neutral. But the voices are colorful and loud like an orchestra or a chamber group. Smiles quickly turn to tears once more. There’s confusion and disappointment. One is crying out for attention. Another is saddened and cries out in frustration. Others are impulsive and cannot control themselves. Controlling them is like trying to catch a fish with your bare hands.
Everything is fast. Mind is racing, anxious and hopeful. But then thought comes and a guilty conscience pervades. But the mind is still fighting and arguing. I’m tired and it’s been two hours of torture. Two sides are fighting. The first side wins. It’s the desire. One side still wants to recover. Battles emerge. The battle between desire and doing the right thing. In the end, desire wins. The mind makes an excuse. It’s alright.
Thoughts seep in and moves in with some notice. I saw it coming, It’s ready to explode. I can read the expressions now with more clarity. He’s wound up like a jack in a box and will explode like the soda he always drinks. There are three different green bottles of sodas in the fridge.
All the screaming and banging continues and grows throughout the day. At night, it’s the same. It’s angrier and confused. I’m puzzled. When will this all end. I try to control myself but the voices are still growing and I go upstairs and shut the door. It’s already dark outside and now there are cries of loss. It’s not that different here. Chaos continues. It wasn’t always like this. Looking at old records, it was like this. Years passed by but no one has really changed. But there is contempt and suspicion now. I ran down stairs in forced anger. I tried to revive my energy. The room is a mess and inside the room, there is a hysterical girl. She’s crying and going through what seems like a withdraw. She’s addicted to something, she’s tired and she summons all her energy to bring out all her anger. I have to force it out of myself but she is genuinely angry. She knows the truth but she’s in deep denial. She walked in the rain. She walked for thirty minutes. Soaked, but the anger settled inside her.
Now, it’s quiet. The noise has vanished. It’s back to normal. I put my head down. It’s really all in the way you look at things. It’s also the way you word things. Earning is sometimes the same as losing. The week could have been a tragedy and/or a comedy. But it’s all resolved right now, however, it will begin again. Soon as the stimuli appears, it will start again. Until that time, I will enjoy this peace and quiet.
It’s rarely quiet in the morning. The noise grows. It’s 8:20 and everyone is here. The noise continues to grow. Fights erupt. I hear one anguished, anxious voice. The voice is pleading, desperate, crying, attention seeking and tortured. Face is red, and his tears drop slowly.
The noise settles down. But few seconds later, it explodes and grows even louder. Angry voices, declaring over and over the anxiety and frustration. Voices with attitudes and voices with doubt. Whispers are rare and in this noise, I drift a little. You can get lost in this clamor.
It’s later in the day, surroundings are dull and neutral. But the voices are colorful and loud like an orchestra or a chamber group. Smiles quickly turn to tears once more. There’s confusion and disappointment. One is crying out for attention. Another is saddened and cries out in frustration. Others are impulsive and cannot control themselves. Controlling them is like trying to catch a fish with your bare hands.
Everything is fast. Mind is racing, anxious and hopeful. But then thought comes and a guilty conscience pervades. But the mind is still fighting and arguing. I’m tired and it’s been two hours of torture. Two sides are fighting. The first side wins. It’s the desire. One side still wants to recover. Battles emerge. The battle between desire and doing the right thing. In the end, desire wins. The mind makes an excuse. It’s alright.
Thoughts seep in and moves in with some notice. I saw it coming, It’s ready to explode. I can read the expressions now with more clarity. He’s wound up like a jack in a box and will explode like the soda he always drinks. There are three different green bottles of sodas in the fridge.
All the screaming and banging continues and grows throughout the day. At night, it’s the same. It’s angrier and confused. I’m puzzled. When will this all end. I try to control myself but the voices are still growing and I go upstairs and shut the door. It’s already dark outside and now there are cries of loss. It’s not that different here. Chaos continues. It wasn’t always like this. Looking at old records, it was like this. Years passed by but no one has really changed. But there is contempt and suspicion now. I ran down stairs in forced anger. I tried to revive my energy. The room is a mess and inside the room, there is a hysterical girl. She’s crying and going through what seems like a withdraw. She’s addicted to something, she’s tired and she summons all her energy to bring out all her anger. I have to force it out of myself but she is genuinely angry. She knows the truth but she’s in deep denial. She walked in the rain. She walked for thirty minutes. Soaked, but the anger settled inside her.
Now, it’s quiet. The noise has vanished. It’s back to normal. I put my head down. It’s really all in the way you look at things. It’s also the way you word things. Earning is sometimes the same as losing. The week could have been a tragedy and/or a comedy. But it’s all resolved right now, however, it will begin again. Soon as the stimuli appears, it will start again. Until that time, I will enjoy this peace and quiet.
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Comments
new york streets seem to make it worse
all this noise inside the quiet
Let's just breathe...
I am myself like you somehow
it's all state of mind.......
Let's just breathe...
I am myself like you somehow