Spacebreaker123

Things were horrid back then. My love had left me, I lost one job and the other was starting to become unbearable. To ease my troubled mind, I explored my forgotten items that were imprisoned in the back of my closet, hoping to find anything that would remind me of easier days. When I ran into an old book that was wedged between a duct taped healed binder and the back wall of the closet. As I pulled the book out I thought, "whatever book this is, I'll read it." When I looked at the cover of the book it's title called to me with open arms "The Great Gatsby".

I didn't start reading the book though as I've read it twice for school, simply going back to wallowing in sorrow under the cover if a distant smile and broken laugh. After a week of this I came across a solution in my head to my problem. I decide I would become rich and famous solely to get my love back. To be so big and so grand that she who know where I was and I would be her beacon. It was my hope, my light at the end of a long dark tunnel that no matter what I would reach for. For some reason though my mind knew it would never work, but it didn't stop me and I had my plan. Suddenly I looked back at the old book that had been carelessly thrown on to my bed, and decided to read once more.

Once I started read the book, I didn't stop. The story turning into a movie in my mind, with grand settings flooding my mind yet still depicting New York in the way it always was. Soon though th pages stopped becoming pages but a reflection of muself, and in this beige mirror I see Gatsby as myself. Same ideals, same hope, same quest for love, and same plane to achieve it. But as anyone who has read the story knows, Gatsby's romantic and well meant plan falls apart very quickly, and ends in the worse way possible. As I closed the back cover of the book the reflection faded the now fresh events from almost a hundred years ago play again and again in my mind.

It was all a warning. A cautionary tale of what will happen to me in the future from the past, and all I could do was put the book down. I honestly thought over trying to just stick to my plan, trying to assure myself that wasn't trying to recreate the past, but build a new future. But I was all in vain, I knew I was lying to myself, and that no matter how good, complete, or happy I was. He past is gone and I can't go back. Two months later I finally let it all go, the plans of love, the schemes of fame and fortune, and even the thought of ever seeing my love again. It wasn't easy.

I came across the book again recently as my career is starting to pick up a bit of steam. However Gatsby is no longer a reflection, he still is an influence, helping me keep on the right path, though it's not the path I want. There are times where I wish I had tried my plan, but I think my life is better for not doing it. Somertime I'll even read that old book and I'll imagine Gatsby looking to me and saying,"You're doing good old sport. Keep it up."

All weekend I've been working like crazy and it really paid off though I was too busy to to even think. Or at least I was until today (March 12 at 4:20 am), now my mind is on her, and why in the world I can't stop thinking about her. I've been through three different relationships ever since we broke up and I must ask myself. What the fuck (pardon my French) is going on with me? It's honestly baffling to me, and the only reason I'm up at 4 in the morning is literally because I can't figure it out. Why is it after months of being apart, three different relationships, College classes,two jobs, at least thirteen auditions , and daily busy work. Why does my mind trail back to her? Especially when I don't want to think about her, I have enough to think about, but no something in my head just wont let go.

The worst part of it all is, when I'm really tired and the day has just beaten me down. My mind will trail off to her and then I think of the stupidest idea. I think of talking to her and seeing if we can start again, when I know that she doesn't want to see my face ever again. Of course that's when I catch myself before doing anything stupid and go back to what I need to focus on, trying to find more acting jobs.

Now you dear reader (if anyone reads this) are probably wondering what the point of all this is. Honestly, there is no point and I felt like venting. Maybe in a small way try to find some answers but mostly its the venting.

I'm done. Just done. But I'm stuck here.

I'm stuck here, watching ghost of a dead time dance around me. Begging me to join them in their gleeful dance and promising to return everything I once had in abundance. My spark of sense tells me I can not dance their dance, that their promises are as hollow as a horn, but the spark is just that. A spark, and nothing more. As quick as that spark disappears, my heart yearns loudly, pushing my hands to reach for those ghost, but I go through them.

The ghost become as transparent as rock and their dance became more elaborate. Leaving me to only watch, with a heart still yearning. I try ignoring the ghost, going through the ether, with a haze around my eyes. For the most part I endured well, and made strides as the haze thinned out. Only for it to return in the night when I tried to sleep. The ghost danced as loud as they could at night, impossible to ignore. But I endured, hoping that in some small way this would all stop.

My breath exhaled nothing but deep confessions of days. I destroyed and lost all connections with the ghost, and pressed forward with the world.  None of it truly made a difference, I was stuck in a endless cycle, that no matter what I did I could not fight my way out. To the ghost I deserved no rest, from the heart each beat hurt, and the sparks of sense never caught fire. Seeking sanctuary I looked to all those around me, they were passing me, being nothing more then blurs that my voice could not reach.

I want rest. These ghost will not give me peace, if the blurs will not hear my cries, and my heart feels nothing but beating pain then I must take my peace. I must take my voice, and stop my heart. An edge hears my cries, and that edge offers aid. As the edge does it's work, the haze starts to the lift, the ghost are calmed, the blurs catch my voice, and heart no longer feels pain. The ghost gather around me, and I can touch them. They do nothing but look down at me as I smile at them.

I can finally rest.

"I see him." I thought, "I see that horrible man, but you wouldn't tell from looking at him. His smiles cons his way out of problems he created, his voice speaks nothing but lies and breaking promises, and worst of all are his eyes. Those eyes that shift and turns every which way, always looking, cataloging all the terrible opportunities that come his way."

I tilt my head abit and try to get a better look at my as my mind continued its rant, "how twisted can one mans mind be? To be so kind, so nice, to people then to turn and stalk and break others around him. It's sick how he does it to! He'll bring you in with that lying voice and conning smile, wanting only to be a friend, and quickly he weaves his way into your life. Almost like virus." I smile a bit as I look at him and though he looks back at me with the same smile. I can tell that he is a disgusting creature.

"He's a pitiful thing honestly. When it comes to important things he has a very hard time letting go. The worst part of it is when he loses something, he'll try his damnedest to get it back, and drive whatever he was going for farth and farh away. Pathetic really. Almost like a child more then any man I've seen." His smile soon faded and I finally saw his true eyes. They were filled with sorrow and longing, with a hint rage bubbling underneath. "I hate him, he brings nothing but trouble, he's an idiot, he's nothing but a disgrace to mankind itself and I just wish....."

I wipe the steam from my shower off the mirror, as a glare back into my reflection. My mind still inflamed by thoughts. "I wish could change. I hate this man! I hate him so much. And no matter how much I try to change who I am, I always, without fail make things worse." My glare finally breaks from the mirror as I go out, get dressed, and head out for work.

Hopefully I'll find a new me.

I'm single again, and gues what?

It's staying that way, I'm done with relationships, and "love".
It brings nothing but hardship to the heart and the wallet.
And no I don't care if others have said it before me.
I'm going through with this and that's that.
Besides no one really wants love.
They just want attention.
Oh well, who cares.
I know, I don't.
I'm done.
Bye.