I turned up the Gorillaz just to drown out the song on Dad's memorial DVD. Mom was watching it again in the living room, and the stairs act as a megaphone for whatever the TV's lit with. It's not a bad song, it just wasn't something I could handle just then. My creative flow was trickling and the grief was just the last thing I needed.
I changed the song four or five times, but nothing helped the writing any. Whatever my ears were listening just never reached my head. My had was focused on the Memorial Song, and it didn't even flinch when I turned up Soulja Boy. I switched again to Manson to get a different shock. Still nothing. I put on some Japanese Rap I had downloaded, but my brain ignored that too. I gave up on trying to get it's attention.
I tried reason. It was over a year since it happened. So I wasn't crying all the time- I had it together. I'm not much of a cryer, but I had a few good bawls to get it all out. I wasn't bottling anything. There was no reason to still be hung up over it. In this year I graduated HS, got my first semester of college over with, and the list could go on. I was in a different world now and Dad wasn't a part of it.
My brain still didn't believe me. If only he was here, it mumbled. He would make everything better. He would make it all go away. I reminded it that this was a lie, and though he was a wonderful father he was still human. My brain idolized him even more. It kept bringing up his face and dramatically zooming out to fit the rest of my memories in the picture.
I am trying to get work done and you're not helping, I shouted through my thoughts. Deadlines are on our ass and you're sitting here daydreaming! If you're going to daydream, dream of something I can use for this damn paper!
But you're in college now, you can use anything. It replied. I looked in the mirror and gave myself a look. My brain gave up on the argument. Instead it plucked at my conscience. My conscience pleaded to have nothing to do with this, (Cont.)
I changed the song four or five times, but nothing helped the writing any. Whatever my ears were listening just never reached my head. My had was focused on the Memorial Song, and it didn't even flinch when I turned up Soulja Boy. I switched again to Manson to get a different shock. Still nothing. I put on some Japanese Rap I had downloaded, but my brain ignored that too. I gave up on trying to get it's attention.
I tried reason. It was over a year since it happened. So I wasn't crying all the time- I had it together. I'm not much of a cryer, but I had a few good bawls to get it all out. I wasn't bottling anything. There was no reason to still be hung up over it. In this year I graduated HS, got my first semester of college over with, and the list could go on. I was in a different world now and Dad wasn't a part of it.
My brain still didn't believe me. If only he was here, it mumbled. He would make everything better. He would make it all go away. I reminded it that this was a lie, and though he was a wonderful father he was still human. My brain idolized him even more. It kept bringing up his face and dramatically zooming out to fit the rest of my memories in the picture.
I am trying to get work done and you're not helping, I shouted through my thoughts. Deadlines are on our ass and you're sitting here daydreaming! If you're going to daydream, dream of something I can use for this damn paper!
But you're in college now, you can use anything. It replied. I looked in the mirror and gave myself a look. My brain gave up on the argument. Instead it plucked at my conscience. My conscience pleaded to have nothing to do with this, (Cont.)
