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Furious Angel
06-04-08, 23:16
The morning sun burning a hole through the curtains. I turn my pillow over to the cold side and lay watching the sun getting higher behind the curtains. The world waking up and starting itís day. I hope it doesnít leave me behind again today. I decide I need to be productive, so I drag myself towards the edge of the bed and fold myself out of the covers protecting me from the harsh world. I slowly make my way to the curtains and pull them back slowly unsure of what scary things may lay infront of my window.
After finding there is nothing but a sunny day hiding behind the curtains I fully open them and crawl back to bed to watch for a while before I get up. Today I will get up! What can be so scary about the world? How can I be so scared to even leave my bed?
I lay there for a while arguing with myself over who is going to win, the scared side of me or the brave side of me? I finally argue well enough to decide to crawl out of bed and slowly dress in the darkest clothes I can find which happen to be a Purple Strappy top and a pair of dark indigo jeans with flares at the bottom. I add my black belt to my jeans and wonder towards the door.
The door offers me one of two options. 1. Carry on with the rest of my life. Or 2. Run back to my safety zone and hide for another day getting nowhere and make myself miserable. I reach for the door knob and start twisting it. I take a deep breath step out of the bedroom door and create a big sign with my built up anxiety. I might be scared but todayÖ Iím going to fight it! Today, I will win!

maddie
06-04-08, 23:38
Well done! My bed is my refuge too

Furious Angel
07-04-08, 00:17
After peeking my head around the corner of the doorway, I see the hall is empty, besides some random items on shelves which are all equally and precisely spaced, a bookshelf with the books all placed in size order and then also alphabetical, and even some pictures dangling at 90 degree angles and not a millimetre out, after all it is worse than the end of the world to have them hanging odd. All lined up with equal lengths between them and only hung in equal numbers. Not a speck of dirt anywhere, no dust, no hair, not anything but cleanliness with the sweet smell of Raspberry and coconut aroma from scented air fresheners
I step tenderly towards the stairs hoping nothing scary is in my way today. I look down the stairs and at the bottom, by the front door lies a very untidy, unorganised mess of what some people call post. With that I rush down the stairs and straighten them up before I can even pick them up. After I straighten them, I pick them up and walk towards the post place on the table. It’s a special place where the post has to sit before it can be opened.
I place the letters down and walk into the kitchen. Everything is spotless. Chrome handles are gleaming, sink polished. Plates cleaned and returned to their place in the cupboard. I open each cupboard and make sure everything is where it should be. Then I panic, have I tidied the bed after I got out? I run back upstairs to check and everything is how it should be. I return to the kitchen pour myself a glass of coke and place it on the table next to the post. I turn the music on and choose to listen to something sad as it’s how I’m feeling. I sit down and open my letters one by one, making sure it’s done by size order. Envelopes placed on the left and letters on the right.
I’m beginning to wonder if I can carry on being this particular about everything. If I stop will the world stop spinning?

maddie
07-04-08, 00:22
Keep writing! This is so good! My pictures 7 books are like that too. If I can't get a picture to hang straight it has bluetack to hold it.
You have a keen eye and a great way of describing what you see. i can feel how you feel through your words.
Well done

Mystical
07-04-08, 03:47
Not often we get a view behind the mask that is the obsessive; well done Dee - well done indeed... We might all have a degree of obssiveness about us or fall pray to a few compulsions but to see it and feel it as you do is to be like the voyeur in some continental movie; so atmospheric the writing lives with one and within one at one and the same time. This really shows a creative mind trying to grab onto every particle of self-expresion it can.... xxxxx Mystically yours