For those nothing days!

Bank Holiday weekend. Always a funny one and usually a rainy one too. We wake up in the morning wondering what to do. We try to go out but the feeling of wanting to lay down all day overtakes the feeling of wanting to go out and so, we stay in.

This is slightly marred by the constant feeling that we should be doing something productive. We read a little (mostly Facebook), we watch TV, we look out the window, we eat, we watch some more TV, we read a little more Facebook.

Nothing seems to matter as much as it did yesterday. We are in our own space where literally nothing matters. Our feelings of happiness or sadness turn into complete numbness. In fact, not even the word ‘nothing’ means anything to us anymore.

As the numbness hits every part of our body we begin to feel totally relaxed. This is what your body experiences when you sleep and usually no one ever gets a chance to do this while they are awake. This is a form of meditation, so just sit back or lay down, and think about, well nothing. If you drift off, then so be it, you’ll soon wake up and read a little more Facebook and watch a little more TV.

Embrace the feeling of doing nothing and stop worrying. Especially if its sunny outside! There is nothing worse than the guilt of wanting a ‘nothing day’ when its nice outside. So instead think of this - we can’t always choose when to have those nothing days, so just relax and feel calm in the knowledge that you may not be able to have another ‘nothing day’ for...I don’t know...at least a whole week!

The Gym? Do NOT go to the gym, unless you begin to feel bored..nope, not even then! Your ‘nothing day’ does not involve exercise! FULL STOP! Read a book, although if this becomes too strenuous then stop and stare at the stealing. Think, but not to much. Write, even if its just your own name. Or write a pros and cons list, even if you have no options to weight up. But DO NOT go to the Gym! This will only bring something to your nothing day, and this would in turn defeat the whole purpose of having a nothing day.

So lay horizontal, stare at the four walls around you, and embrace the boredom. Only then can you really appreciate your ability to actually leave the house at any given moment and experince living. Only then can you really appreciate, LIFE! 

Wait...what are you doing?! Nothing? Leave the house...leave the damn house NOW! 

End

KEEP LOCKED AT ALL TIMES!

‘What was that?’ Alice said as she grabbed hold of Sally’s arm afraid of the sound that she had just heard. Sally said nothing, because there was nothing that could be said. She wasn’t aware of what that was, or who that was, or even what kind of sound they had both just heard. She had never heard this sound before, so how on earth could she answer, when she too was wondering what exactly ‘that’ was.

The noise was coming from behind a door, but this wasn’t just any door, this was a door that no one had ever been in to or out of before. Or at least this is what they believed. It had a small but poignant sign engraved on the front that read:

                       ‘KEEP LOCKED AT ALL TIMES’

But there was no key that anyone knew of, so therefore no way to get in to or out of the room. This was their fisrt home together and this was the only room in the entire house, that neither of them had actually seen. The house was of course an absolute steal, but they had both thought nothing of it. Whenever they had previously viewed the house, the estate agent had always informed them that students were staying in the room, or that unfortunately building work was taking place so they were unable to view it. He had shown them the plans and insisted that if anything, this was the best room in the house. But there was always something quite suspicious about the sign, and the fact that there was a sign on the door in the first place. The agent had always acted strangely positive about this one room, and had always rushed through their questions never really fully answering any of them.

The message was peculiar, almost too peculiar, and it had echoed within Sally’s thoughts every day since they had moved in, and if she was honest, every day since they had first viewed the place. But she put it down to silliness and continued with the sale regardless. These 5 words, and in particular the 3 words at the end would unnervingly repeat in her head over and over again everytime she would pass the door:

          AT ALL TIMES! AT ALL TIMES! KEEP LOCKED AT ALL TIMES!

She couldn’t shake it off. She dreamt about it, day dreamed about it, had nightmares about it, and had even forgotten to run simple errands because all she was ever thinking about was this damn door, and what exactly was behind it. It had been 3 months since they had moved in, and 2 months and 29 days since the first ‘episode’ had occurred. They would often hear strange sounds and what they thought was movement behind the door, but they both deliberately tried to ignore it and instead focused on absolutely everything and anything else they could. 

Until one day without any warning, everything changed. It was a normal day much like any other as Alice and Sally woke up and went downstairs for breakfast. As Sally approached the corridor on this particular day expecting to see the same old sign upon the same old locked door, she instead saw something entirely different. In that moment, fiction as she knew it, become fact. She gasped as she fell back against the wall. Alice came running out of the bedroom to see what all the fuss was about. She stopped, inhaled deeply but did not exhale, and she paused. They both stood as still as anything as the door, that had always remained closed, slowly but surely, started to creek open...

End

Your average Saturday night…10pm.

Spinning around you bounce off the walls, immersed in the adrenaline and captivated by the release of energy spilling out from your very being. Your whole being. The very essence of what makes you, you, is apparent. The pull of the sounds keeps pumping around, you move. Up, down, this way that way, a whirl wind of emotions embraces you making your senses heightened to the point where they cannot be heightened anymore. You sense EVERYTHING. You are EVERYTHING. Alive...you dance. 

You feel, you see, you hear, you move, you taste, you touch, you love, you learn, you live. Everything is now, everything is here, everything is happening in this one moment. You are this moment. You think. Don’t think. DO! You breathe, and as you breathe you feel the oxygen rushing through your lungs spurring you on and making you want to go further, making you want to continue.

Six hours and you are still going. The sun sets, the sun rises and you’re still going. It keeps you going, don’t crash yet, you can’t crash yet! Hold your head up, hold your head up high. Push on, move on, move around, push on and feel yourself feeling the music until suddenly BOOM - you hit the wall. Stop. No, don’t stop, move. Carry on, spin, swirl, jump, bounce until BOOM - it hits you again. You’re quickly falling, you’re crawling even. You hit the floor, you spin around and you hit the floor, you fall, you crash, you finish, you’re finished. You’re through. You leave hoping that someone will leave with you. They do, it’s over, you’re home. Sleep now, sleep.

Morning. Still spinning, but this time its the room and not you. You rise, you fall. Nothing moves. You try to rise again. You fall again. Eventually you rise, you slowly attempt to make some form of warm beverage and cooked bread. You drink, you eat. You struggle. The hours seem to speed by with no real effort and no real achievement from your part. You read only the messages from the night before, you cringe. You look at only the photo’s from the night before, you cringe. Everything is still, you are still. Nothing changes for hours, apart from the feeling in the pit of your stomach. One of sickness and also one of dread as the memories return with no real conclusion. No real answer. You send new messages, you receive answers.

You sit, you watch, you rise, quicker this time. You drink. Water is your new best friend. Water is your only friend. You drink. The hours past by and the evening soon arrives. Finally it’s time, time for the end of the day, to end. It happens, its here. Its over. You sleep.     

End.    

Who needs pavements anyway?!

Every single day at approximately 9.55pm, I look out my window to take in my last thought of the day. I reflect on the past 24 hours and remember the events that have occurred good and bad. I look out of my window, sometimes I open it, sometimes I don’t. I look into the darkness, across the night sky filled with thousands of stars that are covered up by thousands of misty clouds. I look down my street wondering why no one else is ever doing the same. At more or less the exact same time every evening I see a man. A man that walks with such purpose and confidence that nothing, not even time nor space will stand in his way and stop him from reaching his final destination…wherever that may be.

 

He walks completely straight ahead, down this surprisingly long road with absolutely no intention to move to either the left or the right of himself. He avoids the pavements like the plague. But unlike the plague, there are no rats or urine just slabs of concrete covered up by the dim glow of the amber street lights above. He avoids the pavements, he dismisses the pavements. With complete conviction he walks on the outer side of the parked cars and is almost in the middle of the road, but yet remains cautious and slightly to one side.

 

It is a particularly quiet street, which is not to say that every now and then a car doesn’t race along avoiding the breaks (much like the man with the pavements) and slamming ridiculously fast into the 5 or so speed bumps. Upon unexpectedly seeing this bearded man of around 5’11 bombing down the street, they slow down.  They expect him to move on to the pavement where all pedestrians are expected to be. He does not move. He just keeps walking at a considerably fast speed with an expression as dead as a pan upon his face. He doesn’t swerve in between any of the parked cars, he just walks forward. 

 

I look at this man and watch his daily routine most evenings in anticipation that something might change - an inch nearer to the pavement perhaps, or a slower paced leisurely stroll. He never changes. I often worry that he may one day look up at the window and see me looking down at him, but he never does. He just continues to look straight ahead, moving his arms forcefully backwards and forwards making them sway to the side of him like a Lieutenant, or a Major, or just perhaps your average solider marching along in an unknown war. I imagine him recreating what perhaps he once saw through those eyes. Perhaps what he once saw in his past.

Maybe he is going somewhere, maybe he is not. Maybe he is just a figment of my imagination. Maybe. Do other people see this man? Do other people care? Of course there is no law to say that you have to use the pavement, but if no one did then what would become of them? If everyone was like the man who dismisses the pavements then would pavements seize to exist at all? Would the pavements become extended sections of the road?  

Who knows, maybe this man does. Maybe he has all the answer, maybe he is going somewhere to find them. Maybe he has a fear of the pavement…is that possible? What would it be called? Pavementobia? One things for sure, I’ll see him again tonight, and tomorrow and I’ll continue to wonder and continue to question, the man who dismisses the pavements. 

Next time on Your Head Not Mine… Does Pavementobia actually exist? Will I ever see the man again? And will I ever find out if he does in fact have all the answers? Tune in soon to find out! BOOM!