Danger lay upon his back, gazing up at the roof of his makeshift home. Obvious holes were scattered all throughout the pitiful boards of wooden boards of this ever so helpless structure, seeming to be nothing more than scavenged remains of a termite frenzy left behind, rather contrasting the area of abundant, prosperous plant-life in the midst of which this “safe haven” lied. An anxious hand ran about the ground, the damp soil, and loose roots he touched clinging to his fingers for split seconds at a time before gravity too its claim and returned the specimen but to the ground. With a rather hollow sigh, he tilts his head slightly, his tattered backpack catching his sight out of the corner of his eye. His fingertips fumbled to grasp the latch in he front of the bag until he locked on, opening the backpack and remoing a md sized book. Withing his hands he held a lone journal of a sort, the opening opposite of the spine revealing ash colored pages between an abysal black, hard cover, secured by a duo link og black chain. At contact with his flech, the links quickly redrew, as if a single touch would do them harm, yet they were not living, but clearly annimate. As the journal was opened, the covers separating with emmanations of feeble cracking noises portraying obvious age to the object, Danger took from his pocket a pen, that of which resembled an olden fountain model, and then, did he begin to write
Sometimes….i honestly wonder. I wonder to an extent that sometimes even leaves me baffled…..but only seldomly, seeing as i seem to be the only one to understand me…….understand myself i mean…is that right?…….
His pen trails off the page befor he soon resumes
My mind seems to be an incessant labryth at times you know. All these mental twists and turns of seemingly impossible angles…..my imagination seems to temporarily become a being of its own, laying my complex thoughts out before me like an outstretched map, somehow pointing me in all directions at once, et simultaneously leading me to nowhere. I sometimes think of my thoughts (which seems off to say) as gusts of wind blowing me from reality, my feet dangling off the ground as im blown off my previous course to nowhere, and onto another pather, an even harder path leading to the same place. A gargantuan whirlwing running the same course, leaving the same things in the same unreachable places, instead of heading towards my desired spots of deposition. Sometimes i feel as if im standing beneath a waterfall. The water seems to fall upon me like a flowing weight, expanding only to furthermore cover my form before compiling atop the layer beneath until im encased in a shell of pressure, immobilized by my own mind…Doesn’t that seem a shame?….One stuck in place by a bout of mental paralysis of their own doing…..If only understanding me were as easy as writing.. if my words bathed in understanding just as these pages are bathed in words themselves. If only my words could break through the barrier of misunderstanding as easy as…….as……
“plop!” A drop of water splashed onto the page, just a little shy of making the fresh in run
As easy and freely as rain invades my sanctuary….my peace….the little i have……..th
Before he finished the “e”, another drop of water landed in its layin place, running ink to the center of the page. Danger sighed, closing his eyes as the rain rolled in, thunder vibrating where he currently lay. He closes the journal, rolling over onto his stomach and tucking it beneath his chest as the steady drip of invading rain slipped through the crevaces of the ceiling of his makeshift home. Slowly, his eyes began to close, and soon he drifted into slumber, returning to the mental incasement of his mind.