Venting In Technicolor

uMMMM....[[reallly truthful...and tells where I am in life right now.]]

Laying on my bedroom floor; naked. Wearing nothing but my black and white chucks.  Packing up my past, preparing for an undesired future.  Untaping the photos from their frames, packing up OLD memories, fearing they will never return.  Packing them deep.....so deep, I can't see.  The sight of my memories are unbearable; too many emotions.  Too much to handle, not enough of me to handle it.

 

I'm married to my past.  And I've been forced to get a divorce by an outside force.  [[so controlling, so demented!!!]] --->Someone so crazy could drive me insane. They already have. I am a certified functional maniac.  My parents say I'm crazy.  They say crack is wack.  What they don't know is, they are the crack and yes they are wack.  I been injecting that s**t into my veins for sixteen years.  I need something new, something fresh! --->how about a gun and one bullet? It's crazy how far they take me, how much they get into my body.  They want to take over, and they're winning.  I've been battling them for so long.  Sometimes I wonder if the battle is even worth it.  Why not surrender?  They've already taken my heart and served it at a dinner table for two.  [[Damn, I wasn't even invited!.]]  Sometimes I wonder why I'm still alive, and what am I running on?  I can't even control my body anymore.  They're controlling me like a puppet.  So blinded by their fairytale dream, the f*****g picture-perfect black and white family portrait.  So lost in a maze of dreams and aspirations that the can't see the colors in the portrait; the colors in me. 

 

I've been sitting by the old-fashioned grandfather clock in a penetentiary tapping my black and white chucks together hoping that when I open my eyes I'll be home.  I realize that magic tricks don't work.  I'll have to free myself.  When the clock strikes 12, red will gleam from my eyes, purple will seap through my lips, yellow will ooze from my ears, and green will squeeze from my a*s, and the bars will slowly fall.  Everything's gone; even the 2 guard keepers.  All I can see now, are the beautiful colors that came from my body painting the sky.  Far off in the distance, I see my baby.  We're both too scared to come to the center of the field.  Lost, listening to a tune of confusion.  Beautiful confusion.  Confusion that arouses me.  Whether we're surrounded by glass reflecting our reflections or in the dark with only the citylights shining through.  The honesty, the love, the connection.  [[How cosmic it is....]] It's unbearable, too many emotions, too much to handle, not enough of me to handle it.

 

Sometimes I think I'm going insane.  Insanely in love.  I used to pray to the heaven that it was temporary.  But this insanity isn't temporary.  It's a known fact because I went to rehab and got better, and once I left I was back again, banging my head against the wall crying out for my baby.  A crackwhore needs his crack.

 

Since it's not temporary, it has to be real, or fantasy forever.  It's so confusing.  It was easy to see the world in black and white, but why do that when I can see it in technicolor.  I looked down at my chucks painted in red, green, yellow, and purple, closed my eyes and clicked them together until I was home.

 

I landed in my room naked, with nothing but black and white chucks on, forced to look into the mirror.  But I couldn't.  The thought of looking into my own eyes was unbearable; too many emotions, too much to handle, not enough of me to handle it.

Reviews

[A LaDy NaMeD D]

Very emotional, and very descriptive. I loved your constant use of metaphors and similies. It added more to it. All i love the confusion and how you sort of ramble, but on purpose. Your thoughts are intriguing. The fact that your naked, only wearing black and white chucks was a statement to me all in itself. You're packing, and you have your shoes on like you're ready to go...but where are you going with no clothes on?

"The thought of looking into my own eyes was unbearable; too many emotions, too much to handle, not enough of me to handle it."

in my opinion that was the greatest ending in the world the icing on the cake.

Danni

[Angel's Lady]

Good rant! Venting in Technicolor indeed, and I think Danni said it best..."You're packing, and you have your shoes on like you're ready to go...but where are you going with no clothes on?"

It feels good to purge the soul...clears the cobwebs from the heart.

[Constance]

Wow. This took me on a journey to say the least. The way you tied together the beginning and end is a nice device when used for a story like this, a monologue if you will. The use of color throughout made it vivid... your descriptions are lucid and give your narrator a distinctive voice.
Excellent piece.

[Lydia]

wow.
love it.

so powerful and pure of emotion.
amazingggg.

[Spoken]

sounds like a dark place to be in.. so many confusing questions and hard glances backward. very real and emotional.

[October]

I was truely touched my this.
This is one of the better works I've read on this site.
Your style is unique and real.
Honest. I like that.
I also feel I can relate to this.

Thanks for sharing.

[Kendall Edison]

I love it, because it sounds a little like me
Especially the last part
people don't deal with their s**t until it gets real blown up
( I think thats what I mean)

I like it best when people write about their own experiences and emotions. I love how you start with something simple; you in your bedroom with only black and white chucks on and then you delve into something deeper, using questions and incorporating your past experiences into your work. The ending is very well written because you write about how you're back to the start again and you really don't want to move on even though you have to. Overall, I found this to be one of the best pieces of writing that I've read in a long time because it's very emotional and it really means something.