mood: somber music: 'drop' by hope sandoval & the warm inventions

james woke up one morning and like that it was gone. *poof* all his troubles left him like a incense stick loses its fragrance. initially he was overjoyed. ecstatic. 'carefree' isn't the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.

those were the best moments of his day, his week, his life, as far as he was concerned. but then he realized he would be miserable.

he would miss his ailings. his regrets. his shortcomings. this was the first time in 3 months he was free of his greatest worries, but in that quarter-year, that angst, that anxiety: that was what fueled him. he was in love with his sadness; it was his identity. and now that it was gone, he was utterly miserable and lonely. in fact, he couldn't remember when he had been more lonely. it was like one of those albums where the music is so euphoric, if you're not as happy as the the artist, you start to get depressed.

and so, depressed james became once again. he longed to utter his condolences to himself, in the form of tea and cigarettes, as he once did. to say those deeply affected French phrases like 'une grande tristesse m'envelope' as he once did. and so he would, as he once did, only now, he would not only be whiny, but a vicarious liar. part of yet another of life's vicious cycles. but what was he supposed to do? how can you be such a horrible person doing what you love, especially if it never hurt anyone else?

james stood up and searched for his cigarettes. he lit one and took a deep breath; tar and nicotine filled his lungs. he sat back down on his bed and took long drags, but with each breath between each drag he felt worse and worse, more and more hopeless. he put his cigarette out and glanced at his clock. the green digits spoke brightly: 1:00PM. he sank back into his crimson comforter, covered his face, and went back to sleep.

---Goei---