All My Masterpieces

Nodding off to sleep at my desk, I find myself lost in thought.
Eighty hours, seven days a week I spend in the studio. Sometimes I
begin to forget what the real world is like. I start to believe the
world is a room with a view of New York City. And we are all content
that way, sitting in our piles of crumpled up masterpieces, cursing the
small world we are confined to. My mind wanders. All of the blaring
light amidst the piles of papers blur together as I try to focus. Often
I stop and wonder where I am-then I fall off into a deep tranze-like
sleep.
Usually I just think I'm sleeping, wish I'm sleeping, beg God that I
could sleep at that moment. I get so absorbed in my work, that often
the dawning of a new day seeps through my windows and penetrates my
eyelids. One hundred and twenty-three sunrises, two-hundred and
sixty-six sunsets later, I never thought I'd start to get sick of their
beauty.
The best way to sleep when you can't afford to is when your body takes
on the state of half-sleep. The kind when your body goes numb and your
mind runs wild with thoughts. I seem to work well in those conditions,
my mind is the true inventor.
To the college world, I was just another young mind. To my professors,
I am a name and a number. That quiet fellow, with a pensive look on his
face, who seems to always be up to something, that's me. My work is
exemplary, my pieces are marvels. The glasses, the neat dark hair, dark
features, goatee, I could probably drive women wild if I put my mind to
it. Cut throat ambition always scared me, I kept to myself and stuck to
my goals. I'm not a loner, I still enjoy myself with the usual college
antics. I go to parties, have my vices, I am what I see in the
mirror.
In high school, life was what it was and there was no dimension to it.
Comforting, for the empty minded, and those who were dependent upon
maintaining what they considered their prescious normalcy. I could be
as outrageous as I liked, no one could stop me. Standing six foot two
inches tall in my quaint little Jersey town, I was king. Sure I didn't
talk much, and I maintained my demeanor. But I was free to pursue my
wishes, now matter how self deafeating they had been.
I relished in being free, being on my own. I was finally free just to
be free and free from her. Hundreds of mind games later, I was free
from her demonic games. All I could say, was I never cried over her. It
was all I was proud of from those three years, I never became less of a
man for her. The thing about being controlled is it's a hard thing to
recognize, as its happening. It just happens, and is over with, and you
are left feeling like the lowest life form on earth. Her beauty was her
greatest device, it had brainwashed me into believing if she just
smiled it would be okay again.
"It's as if nothing has changed" Katie smiled. I'd love for once to
look her in the face and not think of all the terrible things she's
done to me. But I'm not the vulnerable one anymore. I'm no longer her
slave, I'm through with her games.
Wisps of dark hair fell across her pale skin. She was wearing my
favorite shirt of hers. A pale yellow turtle neck that complimented her
emerald eyes. Her beauty was delicate, it enraptured me, it was one of
the many reasons I had fallen in love with her. But she thought of me
as nothing, and though she cared, she wished to control me. I decided
to take her to dinner. We went to a small restaurant which I heard had
great food, and a wonderful ambiance. I could tell she didn't realize
what a different person I had become. I almost felt bad for her,
almost.
"So&;#8230;&;#8230;Have you met anyone new?" Katie asked; with a
slight worried, little giggle, as a small child would.
"Oh I don't know, a few people here and there. I've really been caught
up in my work" I was clearly prepared for this line questioning.
"Oh&;#8230;." She nodded, at a loss for words.
I had not been so foolish as to plan this rendez-vous without a game
plan. I looked inoccent, but I was crafty. I had grown past her
sinister games. Now I was the one in control, and revenge was sweet. My
smile was wickedly tempting to her, I knew it would weaken her.
It was a pretty quiet dinner, filled with conversation of remininsince.
The whole time I kept getting distracted. It was small motions she'd
make, like the way she gestures to her necklace, and it would trigger
something in me of a time she hurt me. Maintaining my composure proved
difficult. I wanted so bad to lash out at her, tell her what a terrible
person she was and had been. I began to drift away from the
conversation. I became entranced by the burning flame of the
candle.
I got up out of my seat and threw my napkin to the floor. All of the
customers leered at me, for interupting their dinner.
Katie grabbed my hand with concern, "Dan, please sit down your making a
scence!"
"NO!" I shook her grip. "It's finally time for me to be honest. I'm
through with your bullshit, I've played all your games, I've followed
you around. DAMNIT! Release me."
She broke into tears and her makeup began to run down her face. I
grinned at the sick pleasure of her pain. It was better than the best
sex we ever had. I smiled at her, handed her my napkin off the floor
and began to exit the restaurant into a crowd of people awaitng me
cheering.
"Dan, Dan DAN! Are you listening?" I picked up my head from my hand and
shook it off. "Are you alright?"
There I go again, where is my mind? I sat up. "Im really sorry Katie,
like I said I've been really busy I'm just a litte out of it. Why don't
I take you home?"
She frowned at me, and got up out of her seat. I took her hand as we
exited through the mahogany doors and into the still, placid night. In
the car, my stereo system was blaring. One of my favorite songs.
"I want you to know He's not coming back Look into my eyes I'm not
coming back&;#8230; Look into my eyes It's the only way you'll know
I'm telling the truth"
I began to laugh at the extremely appropriate lyric, and sped down the
street. When we reached her house, I stopped outside.
"What's happened to us?" She sobbed. Than she slammed the door and ran
up to her house. Sure, if I cared any I could have gone after her,
should have gone after her. But instead I drove off into the night. She
does it to herself anyway, that was somewhat of a comfort.
Back in the studio I was messing with my models again. Ten minutes, ten
seconds, ten hours, I had no concept of time sitting in my world; I
didn't know how long it had been since I got back home. I began to
construct one of my new projects. The room was dark it was late, and
the laughs from the fantasy echoed about the desks scattered with
papers. I began to doze again. I had lost all feeling in my
extremities, sleep became me. My head fell to my desk and my eyes fell
shut amidst my masterpieces.