Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1730623-Notes-On-Insanity
Rated: 18+ · Assignment · Dark · #1730623
Attempt at first person about a kid who is driven crazy by a failed relationship.
Journal Entry: 12/10/10 3:15 PM
Today’s my birthday. I don’t even feel like celebrating. My head is too clouded with convoluted nonsense. It’s just these females. They’re nothing but trouble and stress, man. I used to count her presence as a blessing. I guess her presence was a present. This blessing slowly became distorted into more of an obsession. I can’t help these things. Can’t exactly help how I feel. Can’t help the fact that I haven’t slept well in about a week… ‘cause of her, man. I swear I’m hallucinating too… ‘cuz this lack of sleep. I’m seeing things. I think I just need sometime away from everything. So, I’m just sitting here in the silence of solemn solitude and my heads just so messed up, forcing an attempt to forget her but that only leads me to relapse into missing her again. I feel like every passerby in this airport can read what I’m thinking. Like I wear my emotions so visibly on my face. Like they can hear every possible profanity in my head of what words I would use to describe her. I could never possibly really mean them though. Just mad. I can’t wait to be home. Hopefully being around my family and friends will make things a little easier. Help me forget. Damn, this is just so unlike me. I’m not one to fall into these feminine traits. What the hell is love? I let myself get played. We hardly knew each other. What is my obsession with her?
         The day is a gray, made heavy by the gravel sky. The softly falling snow does little to brighten its surroundings. How appropriate for this homecoming. My heads been real messed up lately. And this journal that Rachel, my childhood friend, recommended me to write in to “find myself” and “make me a deeper person” isn’t really helping. I took her advice hoping it would lead to some crazy revelation but the revelating isn’t really coming as quickly as I would have hoped, and just when I need it most too. It’s kind of just caused me to see how sorry and depressing and pitiful and everything bad is in my life. Sitting at this terminal leaves me with so much time to think. I can’t even find the inspiration to sleep. So I’m just sitting here listening to a playlist that reminds me of her, spacing out watching the falling snow doing my best to entertain myself and keep from thinking too much about her. But I don’t want to forget.

         My brother, Anael, picked me up from the airport, asked me what I was writing about on our way home.

         “You’re done with school for this semester fool. Take a break. What are you scribbling about anyway?”

         “Just searching for inner inspiration bro. Or outer. Just looking for an answer. Ya dig?” I try to put on a happy little optimistic tone.

         “So what? You’re some kind poet slash writer now fool?” He laughs.

         “Haha! Yeah, something like that.” I say shaking my head.

         “Poetry huh? College turned you into a homo.” Saying as he slapped my face with his free hand.

         “It’s college man. You’re supposed to experiment.” I continue to joke. “But in all honesty man. I missed you. Everybody, bro. I just miss being home.”

         “Yo, what’s up with you man? You sounding real melodramatic cuz.”
Watchu mean man? I can’t miss my family?” I put on a big smile and playfully act like I’m gonna’ smack him back. “And quit calling me cuz fool! I’m your damn brother.”

         “Haha,” he takes a second to look a little closer, “well it looks like my damn brother needs a little sleep. What’s up with these bags underneath your eyes fool? You look like u got fuckin’ sunglasses on.”

         “Just a little stressed you know? Finals… girls… all that B.S.”

         “Tell me about it bro.” he shakes his head. “I’ve had my fair share of all those.”

Journal Entry: 12/10/10 9:21PM
It’s hard trying to keep a smile on your face sometimes. My mom and brother got everybody together to throw a welcome home slash birthday party for me. I greeted everybody with a smile said hello and was polite. It’s all B.S. though. I don’t feel like doing shit. They’re all still downstairs drinking and having fun. I know they’re wondering what the hell I’m doing. I should be down there enjoying being home. I just really don’t need any company. Just can’t stop thinking about how this girl… she played me man. And she was the only one I really ever had true emotions for. Can’t believe she forgot about me so easily. And she had to pick one of my one of my teammates to move on with. That’s heartless right? Chazz. I always knew that dude was scandalous. And she used to say she times three’d me. That was her way of texting love and hearts and shit. An “x and 3.” I’m still stuck on stupid inside jokes we had. Damn, why can’t I forget about her? I want to hate her but she’s still the background on my phone. I swear this bitch is a sickness.


         “Open up bro.” Anael knocks on the door. “What are you doing everybody’s looking for you.”

         “My fault man. I’ll be down in a sec.”

         “What’s up with you and this notebook man? You’re freaking me out.”

         “I honestly don’t know man. Sometimes I just gotta’ write. Kinda’ therapeutic.”

         “You’re still buggin’ ‘bout that girl aren’t you? You know what you need? You need to get fucked up. It’s your twenty first little bro.”

         “I’m not buggin’ over a female bro, but hell, I could definitely use a drink.”

         Everybody’s downstairs already crazy faded pressuring me to drink. “You need to catch up.” Somebody says as they pass a bottle of Soco. Screw it, I said in my head. I need to forget. I take shot after shot. With every shot I hope that it will erase my thoughts of her. Permanent brain damage I pray. Eventually I black out.
         I'm in and out of consciousness. I think I'm dreaming. I see a shadowy figure.
         I come back to my senses. I’m not sure how long I was out for, but I’m driving. Where am I and whose car is this, I say in my head.

         “It’s yours. My present to you.” Says a familiar voice on the passenger side. He is an older man with graying hair and dressed in formal clothes.

         “Who are you? And did I ask that out loud?” I’m startled.

         “How fucked up are you man? It’s me Angel.” My notebook is in his lap.

         “How the hell do I know you?” I slur my words, still intoxicated. “And why do you have my journal.”

         “I’m your mom’s friend man. I used to watch over you as a kid. I’m here to help you find that inspiration boy. There’s a lot of crazy shit you got in this little notebook.” He has a smug smile on his face. “Death and dying? Murder and love? Some real bipolar shit dude.” There is a forever present shadow on his face. Like it purposely dances around his face to conceal his identity.

         “Where am I going?” I tried hard to make out his face. “How long have I been driving.” I rubbed my eyes thinking it would provide some clarity.

         “You don’t know?” He asks. “Maybe I can help you.” He opens the notebook.
Journal Entry 12/6/10 2:50 AM
She told me she’s going to make it “official” with him tonight. That’s some shit. I know we haven’t even been talking on that intimate level for about a couple weeks but that doesn’t mean it’s just cool for her to talk to somebody that’s supposed to be close to me. Man fuck that dude and forget her. I feel like everybody’s talking behind my back. It’s either a pity party of I’m getting clowned on. Regardless man I’m gonna’ miss her. She leaves at two today. Fuck it though. It's whatever

Journal Entry 12/6/10 3:10 AM
Can’t sleep. I pray that this relationship of theirs fails. I really think I’m gonna’ end up doing some border line insane shit. I keep seeing them in my head together. Then I picture their bodies laid out in a pool of red. Yo… what the hell is wrong with me?

Journal Entry 12/8/10 3:33 AM
I’m fantasizing about murder. Contemplating actually living out these fantasies. My friends been saying I been acting kind of weird lately. I don’t know what they’re talking about. I miss her. I hope it tears her apart that she broke my heart.

Journal Entry 12/8/10 6:21 AM
Why won’t she answer my fucking texts?

Journal Entry 12/8/10 8:01 AM
I still love her.
Journal Entry 12/9/10 12:15 AM
Fuck, fuck, fuck ‘em all. I had broccoli for dinner. This journal is retarded. I don’t even know why I write in this. No fucking help.
         “Why are you reading this to me?” I’m still puzzled about what’s going on.

         “I didn’t even get into the juicy stuff. I just picked a few excerpts I found pretty entertaining. Comic gold. You got a really sick head my boy. REAL sick. A lot of explicit illustrations too. Quite the artist I must admit.”

         “How did you get my journal?”

         “Still don’t know where you’re headed?” He laughs. I see his face no clearer than before but I see his eyes. They’re empty. I’m certain he’s some sort of demon… devil. Is he part of my hallucinations? “Listen… in the trunk.”

         Thumps. I hear them. It clicks. This must be the revelation. I know now they’re in the back tied up, both of them. I remember now.

         “Sounds like you got a few guests in the back huh?” he laughs.
Muffled screams and kicks are barely whispers in my ear. My stomach feels swollen with butterflies, like a first kiss. This time I am tongue kissing the devil. I grip the wheel and step hard on the gas. It’s a beautiful December night. I don’t know how long I’ve been driving or even what day it is. We’re racing down the freeway and all I know is that the snow looks beautiful blowing against the windshield, like a million stars passing us by.

         “Yeah, that is what it sounds like isn’t it? Looks like we’ll have some company on our way to Hell.” I laugh hysterically.

         At least I’m now aware of my insanity. I shift the car towards the left side of the road. I play a game seeing how long I can dodge oncoming traffic. The screams take a turn from muffled to shrill to whimpering. All I feel is pure satisfaction. I hear Angel laughing in the back too. A semi is headed straight for us. Bright lights flash and the semi honks its horn. My mind slips.
Journal Entry 8/18/10 1:10 AM
I met the most beautiful girl today. I think I’m in love. No not really. But this girl just might be bad enough to make me want to fall. Her name is Ashley, a little Puerto Rican girl from the Bronx. She has beautiful brown eyes, big soft Rosario Dawson lips, and the body is crazy. I can’t even find it in me to try to game her up. I just want to talk to her……

Journal Entry 8/20/10 1:05 PM
…I worked up the courage to ask her out. I think I might genuinely like this girl…..

Journal Entry 9/2/10 5:35 PM
….Is it possible to fall for someone so quickly? It kind of scares me. I wonder if she feels the same. She’s always trying to wrestle and fight with me. Her scrawny ass is too cute, trying to be a bad ass…

Journal Entry 9/5/10 6:15 PM
… I even told my mom and brother about her. I love the way she says my name with her New York slash Puerto Rican accent….
Journal Entry 9/9/10 5:00 Am
…She’s laying next to me in a deep sleep. I think I just might times three this girl…
         I come to my senses. What am I doing? I try to swerve. Too late. Crash.
         I wake up. I have the worst hangover. Angel stands above me. I flinch.
“Who the hell are you?... Really?” I ask, almost frightened.
“A friend. I used to watch over you as a kid. I still do. Don’t let hard times get the best of you son. You’ll find that inspiration you’re looking for.”

         I get up and look around. It looks like the morning after the party. I have my notebook in my hand. There are entries made for this entire week all scratched out. I look at my phone, Ashley text me last night.

Happy Birthday, Riz. I already miss you!!! I know it didn’t end the way we planned and we both made our mistakes but you know I’ll always have love for you. You gotta’ come visit me in NY sometime. Then I’ll come visit you in “Kansas Shitty” lol. Anyways give me a call sometime. I’m really gonna’ miss you. X3 Ashley.

         I look back for Angel. He’s gone, but I still hear his voice. We'll be okay. We'll be alright.

© Copyright 2010 Rizzo Legazpi (introspectra at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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