He sprawled over the entire bed, one arm overhanging the edge, fingers trailing. "I've been living so long with these pictures of you / that the pictures are all I can feel..." The Cure's melodic strands of infinite depth and sadness pouring into his ears via the headphones, cord to the iPod snaking its length over his body, tangled around a limp wrist. He floated on the music, a pioneer among pioneers, drifting through the endless spaces of his own mind. Kid Emo, they called him. Dark eyes flickered toward the internals of his computer, cabling like intestines stretching in multiple directions. The hard drive here, power supply there, clear worm-tubes of coolant invading the lesser wires. It worked, though. It always did. It was the rest of his life that didn't. No matter how many mainframes he built, how many corps he hacked into, riding the Matrix in a stream of digital information, his life outside the tech always strung him out into the melancholy depressions that earned him his name. He sighed. Being yourself didn't work outside the vast realms of cyberspace. He'd managed to fail again, perhaps spectacularly, the damage not yet fully realized. Maybe a few day's time would tell. Or not. The wilting lillies filled the dark room with an almost cloying scent; they'd long since bloomed and begun fading. Eyes closed as he breathed out. The week had begun with promise, but now... Maybe he'd stop trying again. Not that it ever lasted long; like his skills with tech, that was a part of himself, deep down, that he knew he'd never be rid of. Movement now, as a finger slowly switched tracks from memory, The Cure's "Lovesong" becoming U2's "Tryin' to Throw Your Arms Around the World." He gave another sigh, and drifted back through old memories, drowning in dreams, past and present intermingling as the music played on.
I have no idea what I'm doing wrong; I'm being myself and perhaps that's the cause of everything. And it's not like I can stop being myself, or even want to. If people can't deal with that, then maybe they're not the sort of people I should be spending time with. Or, more appropriately, trying to spend time with. Because as it is, I've not managed to successfully do so yet. I'm going emo again, and it's maddening because I can't help it. I have no patience when it comes to romantic relationships, and it frustrates me to no end that every time I make plans to go out with someone they end up not happening.
Revisiting the Red Howlers
2 years ago