So Close...
May. 2nd, 2004 03:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
belltriggerHere's that experiment in stream-of-consciousness that I mentioned in an earlier journal. Puttin' it up for the sake of backup in case something happens to my copy on the computer AND the copy on my disk
I wonder if today is the day. It probably should be, though I could not be certain. After all, they don’t allow me a calendar, and there are certainly no windows. Very irritating. I’ll have to find a way to know for certain.
But they lock the door. And my movement is sickeningly loud. Or maybe that’s just me? I’ve been here for such a long time. Everything is so loud. I can even hear the people next door.
They said this place was sound proof. They lie.
They always lie, you know.
But still, the white here is really bright. It has to bother other people, right? That’s probably just me again, I suppose.
“In the garden of Eden…” That song. I remember that song. It’s kept me up every ‘night‘, even though they say I shouldn’t hear it. But it’s right next-door. Even now, I hear it.
Someone should tell my neighbor to stop singing in the middle of the night. I’m never that rude. I behave really well. Or maybe he just doesn’t realize what he’s doing. Maybe he thinks he’s quiet. Maybe he believes that this place is sound proof.
I guess he doesn’t hear me. Then again, I don’t make much sound except for my movement. Ungodly, that sound…
The lights here are bad too. Really bright. Was this place made for extremes like this? Just to be annoying, I bet.
There’s a creaking sound down the hall. About ten or fifteen feet down? Why is this door so thick? It just makes the sounds reverberate… That’s probably intended too. Just to show that it’s not sound proof.
How can something be sound proof if sounds still exist? Snapping my fingers makes a sound. Shifting against the wall makes a sound.
I don’t have time to worry about that, though. Today is probably the day, and I’ll be unprepared, and then everything will be messed up…
There’s that singing again. Can’t they understand that I’m trying to think here? I can’t get anything done if I don’t think. And I can’t think if they keep singing that infernal song.
They’ll be coming eventually, and maybe I can get out of this loud room when that happens. They always come at the same time, I think. Well, that’s natural, right? I mean, you can’t just expect to do something whenever you feel like it. Unless you’re in a stupid room like this. But even then you can’t do what you feel like, because someone else will be dictating to you.
Why do I smell perfume? Are they here already?
Oh, it’s a new nurse. She’s opened the door pretty wide. How stupid. Three of me could fit through a space like that.
But I can’t do anything now. Her perfume is just too strong. Did she jump in a vat of the bloody stuff? It’s practically hitting me in the face, and she still hasn’t even fully come in yet.
“Your name is Joshua, right?”
And your name is Cindy. Says so on your nametag. Give me a nametag. I don’t want to talk to you, Cindy. If I had a nametag, you could just read it and you would know, yes, my name happens to be Joshua. You probably have it on your little chart there. You know, the one you don’t let me see.
Don’t get so close. I can already read your nametag and smell the perfume.
If you’re going to get that close, let me see my chart. It must be a pretty interesting read, right? After all, you’re holding it like a novel you never want to stop reading.
Why are you staring at me like that? Jesus… Oh. You actually wanted me to answer? Well, tough luck. Your perfume is gagging me.
I can keep this up all day. The room may be loud, but I’m not. You’ll be the loser if you try to have a staring contest with me. I can already tell you’re uncomfortable with me. Did my grin bother you?
You’re too new.
“So… Joshua.” Why do you have to say my name like that? We’ve already established who I am, Cindy. Trying to be friendly? “Do you know how long you’ve been here?”
Too long? Not long enough? How the hell does she expect me to answer that? Give me a calendar and I’ll bloody tell you. “Why don’t you tell me?”
The look of surprise on your face is not even remotely worth having my tongue burned with the taste of your perfume. Dammit, where’s a drink when you need it?
“Oh… Well…” What? Weren’t you prepared for that? You honestly expected me to know. You really are a bunch of laughs. Ha ha.
Stop flipping your papers so loudly. Doesn’t anyone in this place understand just how loud they are? It’s not so damned important to know how long I’ve been here that you burst my eardrums.
“It’s been about three months since you first were brought here, Joshua.” Again with the name. I swear, keep this up and I’m changing my name. To something your bubble-filled mind can’t pronounce… like ‘Xavier’ or something.
Wonder how you got your hair that color. Very blonde. Another extreme. My, my, Cindy, you sure fit in here. Extreme hair color, extreme lack of intelligence and… Will you stop using my name?
“So, Cindy. How do you like the name Cindy, Cindy? Did your mother or father give it to you, Cindy?” There. How do you like that? Hearing your name over and over and over again is really irritating, isn’t it?
Silence. I like silence. Like a clear morning. But I haven’t seen one for three months, apparently. Weird, feels like more. She’s probably lying. Or she just can’t read her chart right. Probably has it upside down.
“You don’t have to be rude, Joshua.” Rude? You want rude? I’m being polite. Rude is keeping someone in a room for three months. Rude is singing a song every night. Rude is having heavy, creaky doors that resonate. Rude is coming and bothering someone with stupid, pointless questions.
Couldn’t leave the door open to air out the room, could you? I wouldn’t leave. I promise.
Well, maybe not. She was just lucky I didn’t leave when she first came in. Honestly. You’d think they’d train ‘em better than that.
I wonder how long I’ve been awake. I want a damn clock. It can’t have been long because that noxious perfume is still floating around the room. But my eyes really sting all the same. Maybe the perfume is what is making them sting.
Yeah. I was awake way before Cindy came in. So maybe that’s what’s wrong. But I can’t sleep with that song. It’s not even that good a song. At least not to sing every single night.
When I leave, I think I’ll pay them a visit first.
I wonder if they have windows…
They’re lucky if they do. If I didn’t want to get out of here so much, I think I’d just kick them out of their room and make them stay in this one. The one that reeks of Cindy’s perfume.
My eyes sting so much. But it doesn’t help if they’re closed; the perfume has already gotten them. And I just feel tired when I do that… I can’t be tired for what going to happen soon.
I never expected to be thankful for the heater to come on. Now I don’t have to hear that song anymore. But it’s also really loud, so my ears hurt now. And it can’t drown out that scraping sound. The sound of someone dragging their feet across the hallway outside.
None of the doctors do that.
And none of the doctors rip the door off its hinges when opening a door either. Crap.
Well, it’s like I said. They were coming, and you know what? I was right. Again.
One of these days, someone’s going to believe me. And not toss me in one of these loony bins, where I’m a sitting duck, preening my feathers as I wait for them to show up. And rip damn doors off their hinges. I’m sure that’s pretty expensive to repair.
Either way, the hallway is quieter than the room. My footsteps hardly echo at all, see? The damn singing has continued, but I don’t have time for that now. No. I like being in one piece.
Why the hell are there so many doors in this place. Were there really this many when I came here first. I can’t remember. It was pretty quick. You just can’t trust people nowadays. You tell ‘im the truth and they just don’t listen. Stick you in a mental ward. Or, if you’re particularly violent, a jail cell. I think I like the jail cell more. It has windows, usually. And they don’t claim to be sound proof.
I suppose he doesn’t much care for stealth. Sounds like thunder’s chasing me. That or a train. Not very sneaky, is he? All I have to do is duck around a corner and he’d never spot me, barreling as he so seems to be.
This place is so confusing. Didn’t I pass here already? Chris rocks. I bet he does. But he’s not here, and unless that’s some sort of riddle for opening a secret passageway, he does me no good.
Okay. I know I’ve been here before, but maybe that’s a good thing. He’s not here, right? Oh. Wait. I hear him now. How beneficial. He’s being polite, letting me know where he is.
I wonder if dark stairwells are a better place. At least these are going down. Am I on the top floor then? Really need some windows.
They really could space these stairs a little closer together. No, really. I like walking like I’m on stilts. It’s a total thrill, especially when you’re being chased. Makes for a very quick getaway….
Aw screw it. So maybe I’ll make a little extra noise. But it’s worth it. I’m farther and it felt like flying. I’ll have to do that down the next flight. If I can find them.
Clap, clap, clap. How irritating. This hallway is not quiet at all. Very slippery too. Did someone just wash the floors? I can smell the soap, so it’s highly likely.
And now the floor is all dirty with the ceiling… or is that considered more floor? Well, it’s floor for upstairs, but it’s ceiling to me. I’ll come up with a creative name for it later… Something to laugh about when I get out. If I get out, actually. I’ll also have to apologize for the floor being covered with the ceiling and floor combined.
Unless he decides he should apologize. Not likely though. He’s not apologizing for running me out of my room. For ruining my door, though I didn’t like it very much. And for making all this noise. The others must be having a dreadful time sleeping, don’t you think? I do.
This floor really provides no grip. Or at least very little, and these crappy hospital slippers don’t do much for it either. But it’s better than running on the floor barefoot. It looks cold, in a shiny, just previously washed tile sort of way.
It’s like they never expected someone to be trying to make a getaway to save their lives here. Slippery floors prevent runaways, I suppose. And it probably makes for a good laugh, when the patients fall all over themselves after they slip.
Ow. Screw that. It’s not funny at all.
It hurt. A resounding shiver, all the way down to my toes, ricocheting back towards my skull. I hope there wasn’t a surveillance camera running for that. I’ll have to come back for the tape of that. I usually don’t bother, but this time. No way in hell I’m letting a bunch of orderlies laugh as I greet the floor up close and personal.
Hey. Lookit that. My graceful display slid me right towards the next flight. It’s more flying and then around the corner. This place better only have three floors. I’m getting tired. My lungs are kicking my ribs, and stopping to get a drink from the vending machine is REALLY looking good.
They’ve got Fanta. Wish I had some coins.
No time, even to just bypass all that and shake the machine down. I hear my dear friend coming down the stairs, and he doesn’t seem thrilled. Well, I’m not exactly thrilled to see him either. Makes us even.
I can smell air. I can really smell air. It’s right down this hallway. How can a hallway to the outside be so dark? Is it nighttime? I can’t tell. I can’t hear anything to tell me yet. But I can smell outside.
It must have just rained. The crispness is unmistakable. That distinct, clear, smell just resonated through your chest. Made you feel alive. At least my lungs are welcoming it. It’s better than stale Cindy perfume. Or floor soap.
Of all the times for the burning whip lash of a leg cramp to hit. Of all the times. I’m almost there, and he’s almost right behind me. Again with the extremes. It’s either here or there.
Well, you know what? If the world’s gonna speak in extremes, then I just have to follow through.
These doors are hardly heavy enough. It almost hurts hitting into them, despite how they easily fly open. Almost.
So it is still raining. I hadn’t heard that. Doesn’t matter. It’s not cold. Spring. Was it really winter when I came? It didn’t feel like winter. It was too warm to be winter.
“Alright, alright. Come with us. You’re not allowed out here, and you know it…”
What? Who… Brian? Leon? Michael? You all have nametags. So you’re… You work for the mental ward. What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be around. Where were you when he was coming and breaking doors and floors and disturbing the peace?
That’s a really ugly white shirt you’ve got in your hands. I refuse to wear it. Do you think I can walk around in the town wearing something so hideous? I’d be a laughing stock. Anyone can see that. Just because you have really thick glasses - all three of you- doesn’t mean you can’t see the fashion faux paux you’re committing.
… Excuse me, but not only are you putting an ugly white shirt on me -which is really tight, by the way- you’re walking me back to where I just came from. Didn’t you see me leaving, passing those very same doors?
I don’t think you quite get the concept. I’m leaving. You chose to work there, and that’s all well and good for you. You must even use the soap they use for the floors. You all smell exactly like the floors. Except for you, Leon. You smell like Cindy. Don’t touch me. I’m not getting that perfume smell on me again.
I was so close…
The room’s just as white as before. And just as loud. Can’t you all see that the door is off its hinges? Surely you don’t think I could have done something like that. If I could, I would have done it long ago. And don’t tell me you didn’t hear all the commotion he caused, and the big hole in the floor he made -surely you can see that, at least. For crying out loud, it was large enough you could barely jump over it. At least put out some of those caution - wet floor things out. It’s not wet, but it’s deserving of caution anyway. Do they have caution- large hole signs like that?
Why won’t you believe me? I’m telling you the truth. And no, I don’t want any pills. They’re bitter and stick to my tongue. You never give me water to go with them. For all you know, I could just be sticking them to the roof of my mouth. Put them on the wall when you leave. Make a pretty mural.
Don’t you believe me?
They’ve come.
And you all don’t believe me.
Read and review, minna-san T_T Or I will cry.
I wonder if today is the day. It probably should be, though I could not be certain. After all, they don’t allow me a calendar, and there are certainly no windows. Very irritating. I’ll have to find a way to know for certain.
But they lock the door. And my movement is sickeningly loud. Or maybe that’s just me? I’ve been here for such a long time. Everything is so loud. I can even hear the people next door.
They said this place was sound proof. They lie.
They always lie, you know.
But still, the white here is really bright. It has to bother other people, right? That’s probably just me again, I suppose.
“In the garden of Eden…” That song. I remember that song. It’s kept me up every ‘night‘, even though they say I shouldn’t hear it. But it’s right next-door. Even now, I hear it.
Someone should tell my neighbor to stop singing in the middle of the night. I’m never that rude. I behave really well. Or maybe he just doesn’t realize what he’s doing. Maybe he thinks he’s quiet. Maybe he believes that this place is sound proof.
I guess he doesn’t hear me. Then again, I don’t make much sound except for my movement. Ungodly, that sound…
The lights here are bad too. Really bright. Was this place made for extremes like this? Just to be annoying, I bet.
There’s a creaking sound down the hall. About ten or fifteen feet down? Why is this door so thick? It just makes the sounds reverberate… That’s probably intended too. Just to show that it’s not sound proof.
How can something be sound proof if sounds still exist? Snapping my fingers makes a sound. Shifting against the wall makes a sound.
I don’t have time to worry about that, though. Today is probably the day, and I’ll be unprepared, and then everything will be messed up…
There’s that singing again. Can’t they understand that I’m trying to think here? I can’t get anything done if I don’t think. And I can’t think if they keep singing that infernal song.
They’ll be coming eventually, and maybe I can get out of this loud room when that happens. They always come at the same time, I think. Well, that’s natural, right? I mean, you can’t just expect to do something whenever you feel like it. Unless you’re in a stupid room like this. But even then you can’t do what you feel like, because someone else will be dictating to you.
Why do I smell perfume? Are they here already?
Oh, it’s a new nurse. She’s opened the door pretty wide. How stupid. Three of me could fit through a space like that.
But I can’t do anything now. Her perfume is just too strong. Did she jump in a vat of the bloody stuff? It’s practically hitting me in the face, and she still hasn’t even fully come in yet.
“Your name is Joshua, right?”
And your name is Cindy. Says so on your nametag. Give me a nametag. I don’t want to talk to you, Cindy. If I had a nametag, you could just read it and you would know, yes, my name happens to be Joshua. You probably have it on your little chart there. You know, the one you don’t let me see.
Don’t get so close. I can already read your nametag and smell the perfume.
If you’re going to get that close, let me see my chart. It must be a pretty interesting read, right? After all, you’re holding it like a novel you never want to stop reading.
Why are you staring at me like that? Jesus… Oh. You actually wanted me to answer? Well, tough luck. Your perfume is gagging me.
I can keep this up all day. The room may be loud, but I’m not. You’ll be the loser if you try to have a staring contest with me. I can already tell you’re uncomfortable with me. Did my grin bother you?
You’re too new.
“So… Joshua.” Why do you have to say my name like that? We’ve already established who I am, Cindy. Trying to be friendly? “Do you know how long you’ve been here?”
Too long? Not long enough? How the hell does she expect me to answer that? Give me a calendar and I’ll bloody tell you. “Why don’t you tell me?”
The look of surprise on your face is not even remotely worth having my tongue burned with the taste of your perfume. Dammit, where’s a drink when you need it?
“Oh… Well…” What? Weren’t you prepared for that? You honestly expected me to know. You really are a bunch of laughs. Ha ha.
Stop flipping your papers so loudly. Doesn’t anyone in this place understand just how loud they are? It’s not so damned important to know how long I’ve been here that you burst my eardrums.
“It’s been about three months since you first were brought here, Joshua.” Again with the name. I swear, keep this up and I’m changing my name. To something your bubble-filled mind can’t pronounce… like ‘Xavier’ or something.
Wonder how you got your hair that color. Very blonde. Another extreme. My, my, Cindy, you sure fit in here. Extreme hair color, extreme lack of intelligence and… Will you stop using my name?
“So, Cindy. How do you like the name Cindy, Cindy? Did your mother or father give it to you, Cindy?” There. How do you like that? Hearing your name over and over and over again is really irritating, isn’t it?
Silence. I like silence. Like a clear morning. But I haven’t seen one for three months, apparently. Weird, feels like more. She’s probably lying. Or she just can’t read her chart right. Probably has it upside down.
“You don’t have to be rude, Joshua.” Rude? You want rude? I’m being polite. Rude is keeping someone in a room for three months. Rude is singing a song every night. Rude is having heavy, creaky doors that resonate. Rude is coming and bothering someone with stupid, pointless questions.
Couldn’t leave the door open to air out the room, could you? I wouldn’t leave. I promise.
Well, maybe not. She was just lucky I didn’t leave when she first came in. Honestly. You’d think they’d train ‘em better than that.
I wonder how long I’ve been awake. I want a damn clock. It can’t have been long because that noxious perfume is still floating around the room. But my eyes really sting all the same. Maybe the perfume is what is making them sting.
Yeah. I was awake way before Cindy came in. So maybe that’s what’s wrong. But I can’t sleep with that song. It’s not even that good a song. At least not to sing every single night.
When I leave, I think I’ll pay them a visit first.
I wonder if they have windows…
They’re lucky if they do. If I didn’t want to get out of here so much, I think I’d just kick them out of their room and make them stay in this one. The one that reeks of Cindy’s perfume.
My eyes sting so much. But it doesn’t help if they’re closed; the perfume has already gotten them. And I just feel tired when I do that… I can’t be tired for what going to happen soon.
I never expected to be thankful for the heater to come on. Now I don’t have to hear that song anymore. But it’s also really loud, so my ears hurt now. And it can’t drown out that scraping sound. The sound of someone dragging their feet across the hallway outside.
None of the doctors do that.
And none of the doctors rip the door off its hinges when opening a door either. Crap.
Well, it’s like I said. They were coming, and you know what? I was right. Again.
One of these days, someone’s going to believe me. And not toss me in one of these loony bins, where I’m a sitting duck, preening my feathers as I wait for them to show up. And rip damn doors off their hinges. I’m sure that’s pretty expensive to repair.
Either way, the hallway is quieter than the room. My footsteps hardly echo at all, see? The damn singing has continued, but I don’t have time for that now. No. I like being in one piece.
Why the hell are there so many doors in this place. Were there really this many when I came here first. I can’t remember. It was pretty quick. You just can’t trust people nowadays. You tell ‘im the truth and they just don’t listen. Stick you in a mental ward. Or, if you’re particularly violent, a jail cell. I think I like the jail cell more. It has windows, usually. And they don’t claim to be sound proof.
I suppose he doesn’t much care for stealth. Sounds like thunder’s chasing me. That or a train. Not very sneaky, is he? All I have to do is duck around a corner and he’d never spot me, barreling as he so seems to be.
This place is so confusing. Didn’t I pass here already? Chris rocks. I bet he does. But he’s not here, and unless that’s some sort of riddle for opening a secret passageway, he does me no good.
Okay. I know I’ve been here before, but maybe that’s a good thing. He’s not here, right? Oh. Wait. I hear him now. How beneficial. He’s being polite, letting me know where he is.
I wonder if dark stairwells are a better place. At least these are going down. Am I on the top floor then? Really need some windows.
They really could space these stairs a little closer together. No, really. I like walking like I’m on stilts. It’s a total thrill, especially when you’re being chased. Makes for a very quick getaway….
Aw screw it. So maybe I’ll make a little extra noise. But it’s worth it. I’m farther and it felt like flying. I’ll have to do that down the next flight. If I can find them.
Clap, clap, clap. How irritating. This hallway is not quiet at all. Very slippery too. Did someone just wash the floors? I can smell the soap, so it’s highly likely.
And now the floor is all dirty with the ceiling… or is that considered more floor? Well, it’s floor for upstairs, but it’s ceiling to me. I’ll come up with a creative name for it later… Something to laugh about when I get out. If I get out, actually. I’ll also have to apologize for the floor being covered with the ceiling and floor combined.
Unless he decides he should apologize. Not likely though. He’s not apologizing for running me out of my room. For ruining my door, though I didn’t like it very much. And for making all this noise. The others must be having a dreadful time sleeping, don’t you think? I do.
This floor really provides no grip. Or at least very little, and these crappy hospital slippers don’t do much for it either. But it’s better than running on the floor barefoot. It looks cold, in a shiny, just previously washed tile sort of way.
It’s like they never expected someone to be trying to make a getaway to save their lives here. Slippery floors prevent runaways, I suppose. And it probably makes for a good laugh, when the patients fall all over themselves after they slip.
Ow. Screw that. It’s not funny at all.
It hurt. A resounding shiver, all the way down to my toes, ricocheting back towards my skull. I hope there wasn’t a surveillance camera running for that. I’ll have to come back for the tape of that. I usually don’t bother, but this time. No way in hell I’m letting a bunch of orderlies laugh as I greet the floor up close and personal.
Hey. Lookit that. My graceful display slid me right towards the next flight. It’s more flying and then around the corner. This place better only have three floors. I’m getting tired. My lungs are kicking my ribs, and stopping to get a drink from the vending machine is REALLY looking good.
They’ve got Fanta. Wish I had some coins.
No time, even to just bypass all that and shake the machine down. I hear my dear friend coming down the stairs, and he doesn’t seem thrilled. Well, I’m not exactly thrilled to see him either. Makes us even.
I can smell air. I can really smell air. It’s right down this hallway. How can a hallway to the outside be so dark? Is it nighttime? I can’t tell. I can’t hear anything to tell me yet. But I can smell outside.
It must have just rained. The crispness is unmistakable. That distinct, clear, smell just resonated through your chest. Made you feel alive. At least my lungs are welcoming it. It’s better than stale Cindy perfume. Or floor soap.
Of all the times for the burning whip lash of a leg cramp to hit. Of all the times. I’m almost there, and he’s almost right behind me. Again with the extremes. It’s either here or there.
Well, you know what? If the world’s gonna speak in extremes, then I just have to follow through.
These doors are hardly heavy enough. It almost hurts hitting into them, despite how they easily fly open. Almost.
So it is still raining. I hadn’t heard that. Doesn’t matter. It’s not cold. Spring. Was it really winter when I came? It didn’t feel like winter. It was too warm to be winter.
“Alright, alright. Come with us. You’re not allowed out here, and you know it…”
What? Who… Brian? Leon? Michael? You all have nametags. So you’re… You work for the mental ward. What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be around. Where were you when he was coming and breaking doors and floors and disturbing the peace?
That’s a really ugly white shirt you’ve got in your hands. I refuse to wear it. Do you think I can walk around in the town wearing something so hideous? I’d be a laughing stock. Anyone can see that. Just because you have really thick glasses - all three of you- doesn’t mean you can’t see the fashion faux paux you’re committing.
… Excuse me, but not only are you putting an ugly white shirt on me -which is really tight, by the way- you’re walking me back to where I just came from. Didn’t you see me leaving, passing those very same doors?
I don’t think you quite get the concept. I’m leaving. You chose to work there, and that’s all well and good for you. You must even use the soap they use for the floors. You all smell exactly like the floors. Except for you, Leon. You smell like Cindy. Don’t touch me. I’m not getting that perfume smell on me again.
I was so close…
The room’s just as white as before. And just as loud. Can’t you all see that the door is off its hinges? Surely you don’t think I could have done something like that. If I could, I would have done it long ago. And don’t tell me you didn’t hear all the commotion he caused, and the big hole in the floor he made -surely you can see that, at least. For crying out loud, it was large enough you could barely jump over it. At least put out some of those caution - wet floor things out. It’s not wet, but it’s deserving of caution anyway. Do they have caution- large hole signs like that?
Why won’t you believe me? I’m telling you the truth. And no, I don’t want any pills. They’re bitter and stick to my tongue. You never give me water to go with them. For all you know, I could just be sticking them to the roof of my mouth. Put them on the wall when you leave. Make a pretty mural.
Don’t you believe me?
They’ve come.
And you all don’t believe me.
Read and review, minna-san T_T Or I will cry.
