Leviathan

So its cold out- freezing to be exact- and I'm walking through the night and down a dimly lit winding path which leads towards the tower of light that the building I'm headed to is.
If that's not symbolic then I don't know what is, I think to myself.
Anyways, there's a strong wind, blowing from the west- I think then it would be called a westerly, or did I just make that up?- and that doesn't help the situation of it being freezing cold out and every time the wind blows from the west I have to duck my head down and retreat behind the safety of my collar, which I tuck my nose under and probably look pretty funny in doing so.
I'm not walking into the wind and that's a good thing, I think to myself.
I'm wearing a black felt cap and black leather gloves and a black button-up Roundtree and Yorke collard coat that is light and, at touch, rather thin but also surprisingly warm and I'm happy to have that armor against the chilling fire that the leviathan of the west blows against me. As I walk towards the building the wind blows hard one last time and I soldier it one last time and finally make it to the front door and step inside and into the warm safety of the buildings interior.
At the front hallway I meet her and I don't recognize her slim figure and black hair at first because I'm not paying any attention to anyone or thing around me but she's smiling as she walks up to me and I see her out of the corner of my eye and as she approaches I smile back.
"How have you been?"
"Fucking cold," I say.
"I bet."
"How about you?" I say.
So she starts rattling off her day and I'm not really interested and I'm really not paying attention as I pull off my black gloves and start popping off the buttons of my black coat and then pull off my black hat and, as she continues to aimlessly talk, I run my hand through my hair so it wouldn't be so hat-hairish and it flows in between my fingers.
"What are you up to later?" She asks and I'm suddenly a part of the conversation again and I bring my gaze to hers and her eyes meet mine and in them I see that they have a look of absolute lust and I could tell that it was an invitation.
I should be taken back at that but I'm not and I think that its strange that I've gotten used to that sort of thing.
"Working on a paper. Been working all day. Probably will work all night." I say. "Can't do much else."
And I really don't want to.
She wants to say a thousand things, now, like "My roommate's gone tonight," or "Its too cold to sleep alone," or "We could talk about class, catch up on homework. I'm really having a hard time," or something clever like that. But she holds back and smiles instead and I tell her that I need to get moving and we say our goodbyes and I'm not really sad to let her walk away.
As I walk into the marble halls and bumble-bee catacombs that the library is I start thinking; about a guy that I had met when I was drunk and how he had run into me and how I had apologized and how he had made a big deal about how I had scruffed his shoe some how and that I should buy him new ones and that, to end that little situation, I should have just picked up a bar stool and beat it across his face to teach him not to start fights that he couldn't finish, but I was in a happy mood that night so I just walked away.
The leviathan didn't get me there, either, I think to myself. Haha.
And I'm also thinking to myself that it's nice that I blew a whole lot of people off tonight to get my paper done because it's an important paper and a strong grade on it would be important to me in the class and I'm feeling pretty good about that.
Again, the leviathan didn't get me.
I say leviathan a lot.
It means monster.
It's good that I've had the armor and smarts to beat back the beast lately.

Beating Goliath

"Chris?"
My vision is hazy, not focused, and my mind is in deep thought.
I'm not really listening when she asks the question because the last one made me think, and all of a sudden I felt compelled to give my thoughts more attention, more attention then the audience- i.e. the lady across from me.
My mind is chasing windmills.
"Chris." She says again, and my thoughts drift away in the purple smoke of my brain.
"I'm sorry. What?"
But they're not gone entirely and I'm left with an enthusiastic feeling in my belly.
"What happened."
"When?"
I know exactly what she meant, what she wanted to know, but didn't feel like expalining the full escapade.
"The other night"
Well...what should I say here, to answer her, to get her off my case. I don't want to talk. I'm not in a very open mood.
"Blacked out." I say.
"That's typical."
"It happens." I say.
"Why? Any reason."
There always is.
"Just couldn't stop." I say.
"Why?"
"Or I just don't know my limit." I lie.
"That can't be. You call yourself a pro. You should know your limit."
"It happens." I lie.
"What's on your mind?"
"Don't you want to hear about my night?" I avoid her question.
"No, I want you to tell me what's on your mind, now."
"Nothing...I'm drawing blanks, listening to your pretty voice." I add in a tone that she might fall for.
"Don't flirt your way out of this one."
"Not trying to." I lie.
She pauses, then asks. "You can't win, can you?"
"I'm sorry?" I have no idea where she's taking this. Then realize, like a mind reader, she has tapped into my brain.
She's talking about my thought's subject matter. I think to myself that she's clever, and good at her job, and its always dangerous to talk with her, if you're not in the mood to talk and want to hold things back from the world.
"You've found someone that can beat you. Met your match, have you. You don't know what to do, how to handle the situation. You don't know how to lose."
I could answer the question a thousand ways.
"I can lose. I have lost. I am loosing."
She laughs. "Someone is better then you. Thats not your style."
I grin.
"You've found a challenge." She says.
"Something like that."
"And you don't know if you can win."
She's smart. She knows how to ask questions.
Losing.
At this.
With this oppertunity.
That terrifies me. I don't tell her that.
"I'll win," I say. But she knows that I'm not confident.

Walnut Tree

Once, there was a great storm
It pushed my head beneath the waves, and I was gone.
....
Underneath the walnut tree,
where you said you'd wait for me,
and I waited a long, long time.
A very long time.
....
So now why, why do I come here, seeking out the memories I've landed?
Cause you put your spell on me,
made me live a memory,
and now I'm frozen in just the WRONG time.
SO I keep waiting a long, long time.
~Keane

cruel facts

At some point last week I realized that I was smarter then the rest of the world.
Haha.
I know what you're thinking now, and that's: "You cocky little fucker, how dare you?"
Whatever.
These days I strive to be cocky and if I achieve that then I've achieved something fantastic.
Greatness.
It's like my brother says, "Only Great men are cocky."
Brilliant.
It really is, because, when you get down to it, it makes perfect sense.
Truth, that hurts some people. Helps others, though.
Imagine what you could do if you weren't afraid of yourself. Imagine the limitless possibilities that you could strive for because, knowing you're the best and you can do anything, you don't put the bar high, you bring it low.
Suddenly you're shooting for the stars and, even missing, falling among them.

don't go dark on me again

Somewhere he appears and I'm listening.
He said: "don't go dark on me again."
And I'm thinking, going over that statement.
Then there's a buzz.
And I'm ripped from my dreams as the alarm clock explodes right next to my ear and I reach to hit the snooze, can't find the button, so, instead, I rip the damn thing out of the wall.
That that alarm clock really is a son-of-a-bitch, waking me up when I'm in sweet darkness.
Anyways.
I get up, pack my things and step out the door.
Outside there is a blanket of snow, peaceful.
I run my hand softly across the top of a snow-covered hedge as I pass it by, and feel the sharp cold of it sting my sensations.
The snow is still falling and I'm thinking about things; about a moment that my dreams don't want me to forget, about thoughts that I'd rather like to forget, about issues I don't want to deal with, and suddenly I have a bitter taste in my mouth.
A bird chirps from a branch hanging low near my head. I snap back from thought and am focused.
The snow is white and the brightness really is a nice thing to see.
He's right.