OftenBen War ThatFanficGuy lil ButterflyEffect
Hey all!
If you've been playing along every day, shanks and consmashulations on finishing a full week of writing prompts with your host, E. H. Brogan (_refugee_). If not, hey, thanks for checking it out anyway!
Today's Prompt:
The isolation sets in. I try to assuage the chaos I've allowed to run rampant in my head with memories of happiness or content. Nothing is biting. The floor beneath me becomes shaky under my own weight. The sand that has developed underneath slowly drawing me in. Remember that time you saw her smile? You remember that time when you actually finished college? My body continues it's descent. Please I just need a bit more time, I swear I'll figure it out. I wriggle around trying to escape the confines of my own mind. After only a few moments I give in; I'm weak like that. The sand slowly engulfs my body, and the dullness sets in. Just sleep you will feel better in the morning.
He sat at his desk staring into space. Behind him, a fan was the only exception to the stillness. It occasionally reminded him of its presence as the blades, which were not as tightly held in place as he would've liked, rattled in the cage. A flying insect in the light of the monitor brought him to. They seduced him, the flights of fancy. Usually it was some sort accomplishment that made them dangerous. The thoughts clung to it and imagined that this was the breakthrough. This was the step up in his work he'd been waiting for. This time people would take notice. Of course, he would try not to find fulfilment in a future which didn't exist, but he would ultimately end up dejected all the same. Things never turn out that way. A car went by his window. It was rare distraction for this time of night, at least in the countryside. Though he’d close his window before he slept or else he would be awoken by traffic in the morning. He was reminded of his vain thoughts as the night reclaimed the vehicle. A sense of emptiness was often left in their wake.
8.7 Do you really deserve a rest day? Why? Who deserves a rest day, and who gets to say so? Is it perhaps ironic that the people who you would say deserved a rest day probably take/want the fewest of them? I feel the busiest people are the ones least inclined to do nothing. Is it because doing stuff feels so rewarding, or because people who are constantly busy figure out that motion deafens (WOW spelled that wrong in text) an intimate loneliness? Are people really that afraid of possessing stillness, or is that a warning lazy people propogate in order to justify their mediocrity - to give it value and merit? This is a free write. I have lost my debit card in my apartment for the 3rd time in six months. Neither previous time have I ever found the lost cards. Where. the fuck. are they possibly going?