Another extract from a story I was beginning to work on a month or two ago which I gave up on after one page, realising I had no drive to go along with it. I was happier with my style of writing here, so I thought I'd post this to show that I'm not quite as retarded as my last blog suggests.
I woke up earlier than usual. 06:00 flashed repeatedly on my digital alarm clock as my eyes adjusted. The light was just beginning to crack through my dark curtains and the street lights were fading out. Slowly but surely, I focused myself.
Most of the time I don't like waking up early. By nature, I'm a lazy person. Getting out of bed before 11am simply wasn't acceptable. What would be the purpose of waking so early every day? Surely nothing could be that urgent. I suppose it's different for me, due to my circumstances. Working in retail from noon 'til late evening gives me the benefits of sleeping in while everyone attempts to rush off to their own jobs, filling the freeway with their cars, starting their day the same way they always do. The roads in the city are crap too. Not enough room to move and too many small side streets only succeed in causing more congestion. I can't imagine how anyone who has to deal with that so early every morning on a daily basis isn't clinically depressed or doing lines of coke off their dashboard just to keep themselves going.
Shaking the dazed feeling off, I rolled off my mattress on the floor and clambered to my feet. I had broken the base of my bed a week ago and I was starting to feel the effects of trying to sleep without it. Cheap, shoddy manufacturing never ceases to find a way to inconvenience me.
Although I normally would be dreading leaving the house at such a time, today was different. I'd been preparing for this for weeks. 51 days to be exact. 51 days of research, gathering resources, studying the environment and mentally preparing myself. Finally, after all the work I had put in, it came down to this. The sense of joy and satisfaction is one I haven't felt in years. The only difference being that this time, there would be no one there to share my feelings with.
Every time I think of that last part, I wonder to myself is what I'm doing really right? Is this really what I want to be doing, or are my views on society clouded by the fact that I officially have no one left to show me otherwise? The thought only lingers for a few seconds before it gets dismissed like all the previous ones. “To hell with it,” I'd say. “To hell with them all.”
I listened to the morning news on the TV as I poured my cereal in the kitchen. Same old shit that's on every morning. This place got broken into. That person got arrested for assault. Oh, and this famous-for-fuck-all “celebrity” is going to give us an interview about having her first child. Fascinating stuff. I best switch off quick, before I officially overload myself with excitement.
Shifting myself into the living room, I looked to the sofa to see my luggage bag zipped up and sitting neatly along it, ready to be lifted on my way out the door. I sat myself down beside it and looked out through the blinds into the street. Seems like civilisation is stirring. Each of the terrace houses across from mine had their curtains drawn or their windows open. It wouldn't be long until the usual rabble and noise pollution began. Although it's a small enough street, it connects two of the main roads, meaning there's almost always cars speeding past. When I first moved here, the constant racket kept up night after night. By the end of the second week, I had so many different types of sleeping pills and medication lying around my room, I felt like I was living in a drug den.
As I continued to look out through the condensation, I caught the end of a news article being read out.
“-press conference being hosted later today. We look forward to hearing your views on today's news! Back to you, Tom in the studio!” The cute blonde stared into the camera another second or two before it switched back to the newsroom where they prepared for the weather.
I love those moments. The awkward, frozen, fake smile they're forced to wear until the cameras stop rolling. You can just tell as soon as they're off air, that smile is gone in an instant and they're back bitching and whining about one thing or another. I realise it's just a professional thing to do, that cheesy grin, but it's really not fooling anyone.