I'm only 20 years old, but I tend to think a lot. I know what you're thinking, all 20 year olds think a lot, hell, 12 year olds think a lot, 38 year olds think a lot, 78 year olds think a lot, you get my point. But my thoughts are a bit different. The human condition just fascinates me too much to not imagine often, like what makes people tick, the extremes people take in certain situations, things like that. Maybe it's just me trying not to think about the mundane direction my life has taken.
I live alone. When I say I live alone I mean I not only live by my self, but I live in a vastly open and almost empty environment. It's a really small house that only has two bedrooms and one bath, but since my parents essentially bestowed it on to me, I don't have to pay any mortgage. My grandma left the house to my mom after she passed and since my mom and dad already have a house, they let me live in it. Being a college student, it would be way too hard to afford my own place anyways, so I do thank my parents for letting me have it. Fortunately my university isn't too far so I usually bike there to save gas.
Do you ever have so much to say that you can't stop talking? To yourself, I mean. Do you ever have full on conversations with yourself because there's too much on your mind to keep it all to yourself mentally? I've been meaning to make friends at my university but it didn't turn out the way I planned. Still, I think I'd prefer to have these conversations with just myself. I remember thinking out loud in high school to my few friends and they'd always end up having a stupid look on their face, like when you tell your dog you're going to take them for a walk and they cock their head to the side and question if what you just said was real.
Speaking of high school, what a bunch of bull shit. The people who inhabit it is what I'm referring to. The few friends I managed to make are no longer my friends now; I just feel as if they didn't really "vibe" with me in the way I wanted. I don't like saying that they weren't important enough, but they weren't important enough. I thought I'd meet people like me in college but I was wrong.
I used to love Christmas break but this one isn't too great. Last year I decided that I wouldn't go back to my parents' house for my vacation because last time was too dramatic for me. Even so, I miss mom's cooking. So here I lay in my twin bed thinking about how fucking hungry I am and how lazy I am to get up and do something about my groaning stomach. Chinese food does sound good though.
"Well you win this time," I tell my stomach. "Like always," I respond. If you want me to do anything for you, bribe me with food. I will do it. I'll do it damn well too. I turn on my car's defroster because a thin sheet of ice is taking a snooze on my windshield and I turn on my headlights. The fog is pretty thick today.
Regret. I think I just ate too much. The sauce around my mouth pretty much confirms it but I'm still proud that I ate as much as I did. It really puzzles me that I'm skinny as sin yet I eat like…someone who eats, like, a lot. I can't think of a super cool metaphor right now. Anyways, I'm a growing boy so I'm allowed to eat whatever I damn please. I've been using that excuse since I was twelve but somehow it still works today.
Okay so I'm pretty sure I'm lost. The fog is too thick to really see where I'm going and my phone isn't getting any service here. I think I'll just keep going straight until I see something familiar so I have a good idea as to where I'm at.
"I have some advice for you," I tell myself. "Never continue driving straight if you're lost." I've literally been driving for like an hour and I still have no idea where I'm at and to make matters worse, I barely have any gas left. I pull over to the side of the empty road. Maybe the fog will die out or something. The radio is cutting in and out here and my phone still isn't getting any service. I think I need some fresh air so I get out of my little black car and sit on the hood of my vehicle. The cold air feels so good against my face. I inhale deeply and sigh. Seriously, where the fuck am I?
I see a sign. Like literally I see a shrouded sign to my left. Either it's an advertisement or it's a sign that will at least give me some sort of idea as to where I am. I get back into my car and follow the sign. Wait. "Fuck," I exclaim to myself. My car is barely moving. Of course my car decides to die on me now. I swear this amount of gas can get me about 10 miles further but I guess it wants to kick me while I'm down. Anyways, I'll just walk to the sign and hope it'll give me something useful. God it's getting cold. I jog over to see what the sign is until I can make out what it says. The sign is green and rusted and says "Welcome to Silent Hill" in faded white characters. I've never heard of Silent Hill until now, but I'm sure there's a gas station there to fuel up and ask someone how I can make it back home.