Flashbacks.
I’m lost in my own feelings and mind. Feeling an odd mixture of emotions that not only contradict each other, but also make no sense. Happiness, sadness, grief, anxiety, contentment and anger. I don’t know which emotions are my own, or which are reminiscence of the spirit who was here only a few hours ago. I don’t know if it’s foreshadowing anything or if I’ve picked it up from my father’s friend who’s come to stay, or even from C… perhaps its from the negative energy that has been surrounding me recently. Perhaps it’s nothing; perhaps I’m just tired and need some sleep.
Whatever the case, this tea isn’t helping. If anything, it’s just mucking up my thoughts even more then they are.
Flashbacks of happy times are going through my head, and I find myself concentrating on and absorbed in these flashbacks, in spite of the loud laughter and chatter coming from the kitchen (a room that is only separated from me by a thin wall and a wood door).
Thinking of high school, skipping class to go chill in the grave yard with friends. The grave yard was (and still is) my favourite place to go and think.. To go and relax. It’s so peaceful and quiet… and when I’m alone, it can be interesting as well. The spirits that linger in a grave yard are very interesting and content for the most part; they’re not surrounded in fog or smoke. They’re not upset or angry, wanting nothing more then to hurt or scare me. No, most of them just want to have a regular conversation. Just want someone to laugh with or to chill with. I don’t tell many people this, but that’s the place I used to go and get high during class. Smoke some pot and just chill. Where I would sit on the grass (or benches on those mild winter days) near the graves and wait for the numbness to settle in. but it’s not the kind of numbness that’s unsettling, it’s the kind that let’s me think clearer. Let’s me hear clearer. And that’s when I would have those really interesting conversations. Sometimes I would lie really still in the grass with my eyes closed, just trying to feel my surroundings. Trying to feel the way the grass caresses my legs and arms, the way it feels when it brushes up against me, and the way it feels to lie down on it. Slightly damp and soft. I used to try and feel the breeze, try and feel the smells and the sounds. The smell of sweet grass and musky old grave stones with mould growing it’s way around the old monument. Feel the sounds of the birds chirping, the wind moving through the trees, the cars in the distance. Feel the spirits coming closer and sitting beside me. Feel their curious hands poking me in the leg, brushing my hair back. Feel them speak to me. Just feel. Feel.
Flashbacks of last year. Of last year’s laughing, singing, dancing and drunken nights. Of M and D getting ready to go to the bars while I chilled with them and talked about everything and nothing, laughing the whole time. Of Halloween and my random one night stands. ’Simon the fish’ was it, D? of coming home after a terrible day to find M and D in their adjoining rooms, both equally as frustrated/tired/upset as I was, and talking to them about it after or before listening to how their day went, then laughing about the stupidity of it all. Of watching The Hills and America’s Next Top Model with them. Of D’s amazing advice and thoughtfulness, and M and mine’s walks. Our random conversations- “and that, my friend, is a dead squirrel”. Of ‘studying philosophy’ with Plato and how much fun him and I used to have with our so called philosophy, and how happy I was in spite of all the bad times.
Flashbacks of talking until 4 or 5 in the morning with MetalD, laughing about the most ridiculous things and mourning our losses together. Sharing everything about ourselves to one another, and feeling no shame or guilt in doing so. About the one time when he came over just before Christmas and we stayed up all night and all day talking, crying, laughing and just overall enjoying each other’s company.
Flashbacks of Arizona and the peace I felt while being there.
Of summertime, of fall when G first moved in and all our random, hyper fun. Of those nights (that still occur quite frequently) where one of us, or both of us can’t sleep so we stay up smoking, talking and laughing.
Flashbacks of when I first met C, the way he was sitting there against the stone wall at our university, smoking before class. The first time I chilled with C, when I gave him a reading, and the overwhelming feeling of attraction that came over me while holding his hand. And the ridiculously strong feeling to lean over and kiss him. Flashbacks of the first time we kissed, and how ridiculously happy he made me. The first time he seduced me (yes, you read that right. He seduced me!). When we would stay up until odd hours of the morning talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. Like the times we stayed up until 5:30am (just before exams) talking about our unique beliefs and gifts, when we stayed up until 3:30am smoking and discussing how our horror movie would go if we were to make one, or when we stayed up until 4am laughing about nonsense, like what would happen if him and I were to walk into a candy store, me pretending to be very pregnant and very hormonal demanding candy with no artificial flavouring, and C looking very abused and sketchy. Like the time when we talked about how if we were to ever have a house, our room would have to have a latch in the floor that opened up to being a slide that led strait to the pool in the back yard. Flashbacks of the first time he told me he loved me, and my drunken “I love you, in case I forgot to mention it earlier” reply. Thinking of the way he looks at me that completely melts my heart. Thinking of how much fun we have together, and how comfortable I am with him… and mostly, how happy we make each other. How happy he makes me. How easy it is for him to make me smile, and keep me smiling. How much I love and adore him.
Flashbacks.
Oh, how I adore them when I’m feeling odd and disoriented.
The anxiety has subsided. The sadness dwindling away.
I think I’ll go join the chatter now, and then perhaps go to sleep.
Good night.
Whatever the case, this tea isn’t helping. If anything, it’s just mucking up my thoughts even more then they are.
Flashbacks of happy times are going through my head, and I find myself concentrating on and absorbed in these flashbacks, in spite of the loud laughter and chatter coming from the kitchen (a room that is only separated from me by a thin wall and a wood door).
Thinking of high school, skipping class to go chill in the grave yard with friends. The grave yard was (and still is) my favourite place to go and think.. To go and relax. It’s so peaceful and quiet… and when I’m alone, it can be interesting as well. The spirits that linger in a grave yard are very interesting and content for the most part; they’re not surrounded in fog or smoke. They’re not upset or angry, wanting nothing more then to hurt or scare me. No, most of them just want to have a regular conversation. Just want someone to laugh with or to chill with. I don’t tell many people this, but that’s the place I used to go and get high during class. Smoke some pot and just chill. Where I would sit on the grass (or benches on those mild winter days) near the graves and wait for the numbness to settle in. but it’s not the kind of numbness that’s unsettling, it’s the kind that let’s me think clearer. Let’s me hear clearer. And that’s when I would have those really interesting conversations. Sometimes I would lie really still in the grass with my eyes closed, just trying to feel my surroundings. Trying to feel the way the grass caresses my legs and arms, the way it feels when it brushes up against me, and the way it feels to lie down on it. Slightly damp and soft. I used to try and feel the breeze, try and feel the smells and the sounds. The smell of sweet grass and musky old grave stones with mould growing it’s way around the old monument. Feel the sounds of the birds chirping, the wind moving through the trees, the cars in the distance. Feel the spirits coming closer and sitting beside me. Feel their curious hands poking me in the leg, brushing my hair back. Feel them speak to me. Just feel. Feel.
Flashbacks of last year. Of last year’s laughing, singing, dancing and drunken nights. Of M and D getting ready to go to the bars while I chilled with them and talked about everything and nothing, laughing the whole time. Of Halloween and my random one night stands. ’Simon the fish’ was it, D? of coming home after a terrible day to find M and D in their adjoining rooms, both equally as frustrated/tired/upset as I was, and talking to them about it after or before listening to how their day went, then laughing about the stupidity of it all. Of watching The Hills and America’s Next Top Model with them. Of D’s amazing advice and thoughtfulness, and M and mine’s walks. Our random conversations- “and that, my friend, is a dead squirrel”. Of ‘studying philosophy’ with Plato and how much fun him and I used to have with our so called philosophy, and how happy I was in spite of all the bad times.
Flashbacks of talking until 4 or 5 in the morning with MetalD, laughing about the most ridiculous things and mourning our losses together. Sharing everything about ourselves to one another, and feeling no shame or guilt in doing so. About the one time when he came over just before Christmas and we stayed up all night and all day talking, crying, laughing and just overall enjoying each other’s company.
Flashbacks of Arizona and the peace I felt while being there.
Of summertime, of fall when G first moved in and all our random, hyper fun. Of those nights (that still occur quite frequently) where one of us, or both of us can’t sleep so we stay up smoking, talking and laughing.
Flashbacks of when I first met C, the way he was sitting there against the stone wall at our university, smoking before class. The first time I chilled with C, when I gave him a reading, and the overwhelming feeling of attraction that came over me while holding his hand. And the ridiculously strong feeling to lean over and kiss him. Flashbacks of the first time we kissed, and how ridiculously happy he made me. The first time he seduced me (yes, you read that right. He seduced me!). When we would stay up until odd hours of the morning talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. Like the times we stayed up until 5:30am (just before exams) talking about our unique beliefs and gifts, when we stayed up until 3:30am smoking and discussing how our horror movie would go if we were to make one, or when we stayed up until 4am laughing about nonsense, like what would happen if him and I were to walk into a candy store, me pretending to be very pregnant and very hormonal demanding candy with no artificial flavouring, and C looking very abused and sketchy. Like the time when we talked about how if we were to ever have a house, our room would have to have a latch in the floor that opened up to being a slide that led strait to the pool in the back yard. Flashbacks of the first time he told me he loved me, and my drunken “I love you, in case I forgot to mention it earlier” reply. Thinking of the way he looks at me that completely melts my heart. Thinking of how much fun we have together, and how comfortable I am with him… and mostly, how happy we make each other. How happy he makes me. How easy it is for him to make me smile, and keep me smiling. How much I love and adore him.
Flashbacks.
Oh, how I adore them when I’m feeling odd and disoriented.
The anxiety has subsided. The sadness dwindling away.
I think I’ll go join the chatter now, and then perhaps go to sleep.
Good night.
-Amber Christina
-February 20th, 2009; 11:35pm
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