FicWad

So here's this, haha. Umm the beggining is pretty much just me. Most of the sotry is just me because this is more like a journal. If you see any mistakes please be sure to tell me so I can fix them.
There are times when my mood gets down, and I feel like curling up in a ball to wither away. Most of the time my moods are capricious, and need absolutely no justicfication whatsoever, one minute I'm happy, the next I'm angry, there is no system, there is no pattern, just impulse. I rarely ever get sad, I often forget what the feeling, feels like, but when I do feel it, it strikes like harsh winds. On those days when I feel down, -and down is not the same meaning as sad- I talk a little less than I usually do, snap at people alot, and overall look like shit. I have no inspiration, no motivation, and absolutely no sense of humor.

When the feeling of dejection arises, it is most likely catalysed by lack of sleep. And considering I suffer from chronic insomnia, one might think it comes regularly, but in actuality, it rarely happens. All though I do manage to take pills to get sleep, -but only when I feel like it- I do not actually enjoy them. I seem to enjoy sleep even less. Sleep to me is only a reminder that the human body is weak and needs rest, because unfortunately one cannot power on through life without a little sleep. I often find myself trying to contradict this fact from the human body, and in result, my body suffers from sleep depravation and minor-starvation. And I do only mean body, because my mind never shuts up, and continues to stay active even during bodily damage.

Because of my 'little' self-contradicting issue, there is a never ending war wedged between the cracks and crevices of my deluded mind. My mind tries to defy my body's wishes -needs- in every way possible, striving hard to be something greater, stronger. It (I) refuse to sleep unless absolutely necessary, and that is only when my body is sobbbing from depravation. I consume as little as much food as I can get away with, all though food is good and overall pleasant, I often get lazy, tired, and bored by eating it. I only ever gorge myself with food when I finish spreading my creative juices around my atmosphere. I do not eat at school (unless I am 'starving') just because I like to test my body's limits. It really is all about endurance, yet my body seems to be offended by it, -taking note by the dark circles under my eyes- yet I believe my body will take it's death toll, thanks to all of my mind's doing.

Being a teenager I often find my body heat steering in different directions, sometimes even south. I find it ridiculous how the human body needs, thrives for sex when It is unecassary for it's exsistence. All though there are many benefits for sexual activity, I do not find myself to want to be part of any. Seeing as I rarely like people, and even rarely find them attractive. Thus, my body is also rejected of its 'nature' due to my endurace. Though there is hardly much to endure, seeing as it isn't even distracting or pleasing, it is just annoying.

It seems blatantly obvious that I am a slave to my mind and I like it that way. I have come to a conclusion that if anything will end me, it will be caused by my own doing, and I very much like the thought of that.

Today is one of those days where I feel like utter shit.

I've no Idea how I've made it through half of my classes today. But I seem to have made it sluggishly through the mourning hours of school with out even noticing. But now, as I'm walking towards my spot in lunch, I can feel the aftermath of the tortuous hours my body has suffered. As I sit down and breath in the fresh air, I feel the goosebumps caused by the cold air conditiong saw themselves off my skin. And as I look around the parking lots, I feel my eyes prickle with tears caused by the lights, and lack of sleep. Then, my stomach starts grumbling.

I close my eyes from the sting of the air and moan a cry of fatigue, then bump my head against the wall behind me. I stay like that for a long time trying hard not to think about how tired I am. My body feels small and weak, and I wanna crawl inside a box, tape it all up, and mail myself to my bedroom. I can feel slumber beckoning me with persuasive whispers and I shake myself, I will not fall to this trap. I stare at the grass in front of me looking for insects while taking out my ipod and putting on my headphones. I wish the world could go away. I'm listening to Tears by the Smashing Pumpkins when I feel the presence of a body sit down next to mine. I let a tired sigh escape my lips and I briefly acknowledge Gerard with a small nod. I am in no mood to speak.

Luckily, he seems very observant because he does not say a word, good. Instead he just throws a soft object at my lap and stares straight ahead. I look down at my lap, and see a bag of weed, then I smile wide and bright. I don't even think twice, I roll up and light up a joint then take a hit. I hand it over to Gerard as a gesture of gratitude and he eagearly accepts it. I believe we spend most of lunch like that, but somewhere along the lines, I fell asleep. I let the weed lull me into sleep and I run straight into slumber's arms.

I dream randomnly, about suns, and stars and all that good space shit. And as I'm dancing on the moon I hear a voice beckoning me. Sweet, smooth velvet vocal chords calling my name like a spell. I sigh and follow it. As I get closer to the voice I see a figure up ahead shaped like a tree. And when I get in front of the tree, I circle around it and find something lovely behind. It's a red box, with beautiful scriptures of calligraphy written all over it, and all though I do not know what the words say, I do know they mean something important. And then I hear whispers, I couldn't hear them before, but I hear them now, they sound from up above and I look up, and I see that the leaves are whispering to me. The vowels are barely audible but as I rise to my tipie toes I hear them clearly now. They are telling me not to open the box. Oh well that's a shame I think, and giggle as I bend down over the box and open the lid. I was expecting something grand but it was just an apple. Boring.

I am waken by a hand shaking my shoulder. And I stay still for a few minutes trying to ignore it but then I hear the whispering of my name.

"Frank" Whisper, shake.
"Frank." My name is drawled now, whisper, shake.
"Frank." Whisper, three shakes.

I open my eyes before I get shaken again, not really wanting to punch some one. Once my eyes are up I notice my head is leaning on a shoulder, and I quickly move like as if it was a scathing shoulder and focus my vision. It's Gerard, and he's staring at me with a weary smile. Ok...I cough a little and avert my eyes.
"The bell rang." Gerard whispers and I stay silent and slowly drag my eyes towards his face.
"I put your weed inside you backpack so it wouldn't get taken." He continues to whisper. And I continue to stare at him, willing my mind to hurry up and reply.
" I think we're gonna be late." He's still whispering. I let my eyes crunch up in confusion and I feel the wispy haze of sleep dissapate from my mind.
"Why are you whispering?" I ask, my voice in normal range, it seems to cut through the quiet of the air and I wince to myself. Gerard stares at me and laughs. Ok..I feel dizzy.
"Thought you didn't want to talk, even less listen to people talk." He states smiling at me. Hmm that's very considerate.
"Ah." I reply. I feel awkward. I hate sleeping in front of people. Even less sleeping on top of them. I don't know what to say or do. Instead I stare down at my lap and gasp in suprise. There is an apple on my lap. How did that get there? Why is it there? It was in my dream, does it mean something? Am I psychic? The questions start piling onto themselves as my mind digs for answers and before I come to a conclusion, my thoughts are broken by the sound of Gerard's voice.
"It's an Aceyman apple." He states. He could've just said apple. I really don't think there is much of a difference anyways, an apple is an apple. Who remembers all the names of a variety of apples anyways? That's kinda, weird. Before I reply, my thoughts are once again broken.
"You looked like shit, I figured you were hungry and needed energy."
Well, that makes me feel better. I look at Gerard whose smiling at me and I smile back.
"Thanks." I say then, "We should be getting back now." We get up, and I cluth the apple in my hand. It fits perfectly.

When we make it inside, -eight minutes late- Gerard pats me on the shoulder and before we leave he says-
"Hey, you wanna hang out this Friday?" I look at him, he looks hopeful, but I'm reluctant to go out anywhere with anyone. I give him a rueful smile a say, "Sorry man. I got detention remember?” He returns the smile and we part out ways.

As I walk to my class, I hold on to the apple, making sure not to bruise it. Then I put it in my backpack, safely next to the weed. I do not eat it. But when I get home, I place on my desk, and watch it ,as it rots for ten weeks. It’s good enough, the air is eating it for me. Sometimes I would catch my self watching the apple for hours with a smile on my face. Because I know someone cares.

I hoped you guys liked it. Sorry I take long. R&R