My dark brown leather bracelet double weaved around. It choked me. As if to say, “This hand you won’t need. You won’t need anything anymore. You’ve got me.” I could see the blood clogging, my hand falling off, and the bracelet repositioning itself on some other part of me. My dark brown leather bracelet. Still, I couldn’t let it go. It meant too much to me. Like a Chinese finger trap it sensed a pull and tightened on my wrist. A mirror on the floor called me in. Looking down I grabbed my bracelet and felt it loosen. A smooth glass with no end. Instead of reflection there was abyss. And the longer I stared the less I knew about myself. The bracelet gently slid off my hand. It was never my bracelet. My was just a word I imposed on it. It could not be mine such as nothing can every be anyone’s. I let the bracelet fall into its world of abyss and returned to mine. My hands in tact, I cried.
Sleep pushed into my mind. Then out. Then in.
"If I had a shotgun right now I would probably end it. Wow, I haven’t felt this way in awhile."
I woke up to his loud thought, ill-equipped for what they brought. He teared.
Being unable to see a solution or grasp the concept made me feel like a child. He walked off. I stayed.
The mood swings of his personality were closer to bi-polar than moody. I was just a friend. A friend with no clue how to help.
He came back. I talked about the future and the infinite wonders that it could bring. He talked about the lack of meaning of life as a whole. And as much as I believe in everything being an opportunity to grow, I also hold the belief that we are less than a blink in all existence, and that if we are less than a blink and time is relative, we may as well be dead. Paradoxically, I believe there is no reason to not live out the life we’ve been given. Why not strive to bend the rules of life in your favor and see if the game of existence is as steadfast and rigid as the bitter men of the past convince themselves it to be? Or if it is as whimsical, ever-growing, and romantic as the dreamers of the future conceive?
"I don’t know. I can’t relate to your optimism."
"I can’t make you see the way I see things. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help. But if someone doesn’t see the value in life, how am I supposed to change that?"
The silence hung over us like stars in the sky. He was boxed in a cage of self-negating bubbles. My mind searched for sleep. It found none.