HERE COMES THE SUN

[RyanTurtle]

Okay, I'm not such a great writer, but here's my latest story. Read it if you want. If you don't I won't be offended. However, if you DO read it, please leave some feedback. OH and there's a little bit of profanity, so if that kind of thing bothers you then read at your own risk.

Here Comes The Sun

The bed feels firm beneath the weight of my body as I sit still and solemn. The confederate flag on my window causes the sunlight to turn an eerie shade of red, like blood on a spotlight shooting a crimson beam into the endless night sky. The mindless dribble on the radio is driving me over the edge of sanity, but the thought of psychosis intrigues me, so I don’t bother to turn it off.

“Did you see that?†I ask to no one “I swear the lawn gnome just blinked.â€

I’m talking about the menacing lawn gnome on my dresser. Its white beard is fluffy like that of Santa Claus or Walt Whitman. His hat is red and pointy and folded in half like a wizard’s cap, falling to the back of the gnome’s head. His jacket is almost an olive green. His pants are blue, which is strange; most lawn gnomes have brown pants. He’s a rebel, that’s why I got him.

“I swear that little bastard just blinked.â€

“It’s inanimate, it can’t blink.†A voice in my head says condescendingly

“It BLINKED!†I shout

“Put some thought into what you’re saying.†The distant voice chuckles, “How can a gnome blink, it’s eyelids are ceramic. They can’t move.â€

“Goddamn it! If I say they blinked then they blinked! END OF DISCUSSION!†My voice is getting raucous from shouting. Thank God, no one’s home, they might think there’s something wrong with me.

“Maybe you’re just crazy, that could explain our little conversation were having here.†This voice is starting to annoy me.

“SHUT UP! SHUT THE HELL UP!†I yell so loud that it feels like my head is about to explode, that would be a sight.

What the hell is happening? What is causing this to happen to me? That damn gnome? This damn room? It has to be the boredom. It definitely has to be the boredom. Here lately my friends have been traveling a lot, so they haven’t been able to hang out with me as much. This leaves me home, alone mostly, with no one to talk to. I’m so bored that I can’t sleep, which can create major havoc on you mind.

I’ve found myself sinking more and more into a state of depression. I don’t even care whether I live or die anymore, it’s not like my life has a sense of meaning. It’s not like it was about ten years ago. The few times that I do manage to fall asleep, I dream of how it used to be. I can see myself standing in the empty lot to the east of my house with no worries. It felt so good to be so free from responsibility. I can imagine myself sitting in this very room at the age of seven trying to make The Empire State Building out of tinker toys and LEGOs. Other than my toys, the only things that I had to occupy my time were absorbing the fresh smell of the rain, or running to my mother for protection from the thunderous storm of God’s wrath. These were my worries. Murder and death didn’t exist. There was no war. There was no evil. Life was good along with everything in it.

Those days are gone now, only to be replaced by days of hate, regret, resent, pain, suffering, and above all, boredom. This damn room! Has it gotten smaller? I have to get out of this room, but I lack the will to move to the door. There’s a sign on my door, it reads “NOT AN EXITâ€. I put it there as a joke, now it seems that I sealed my grave with it. Hell of a joke. I’m on the edge of sanity. I’m about to jump. I stare out the flag covered window and wonder how many people on the outside of that window would miss me if I were to die here today.

I’m about to do it. There is a pocketknife sitting on the edge of my desk. The sharp edge of release never looked so good. The red light glimmers off of the blade seemingly foreshadowing the blood that is soon to tarnish it. I reach for the blade just as the most soothing sound ever comes drifting from the speakers by my bedside.

I have no clue who is singing, frankly, it doesn’t matter. I have to say, it sounds heavenly. While I’m sitting here, listening to that song, there is no depression, no hate, no resent, or pain. There is nothing. There is nothing but me and the sweet sound of music. I feel dizzy. The walls of red melt away and are replaced by white light. I’ve been waiting for a moment of clarity and now that it’s here I have no idea what to do with it. The words flood through my head and infect my soul with an unexplainable happiness. Those lyrics are so simple, yet at the same time, so incredibly complex and prolific.

“Here comes the sun

Here comes the sun,

And I say it's all rightâ€

YES! It is all right. It all makes sense to me now. Who cares what today brings. There’s always tomorrow. When the sun raises it’s a new day with new problems, but with these new problems comes new solutions. Yes, the world is cloudy. Yes, the world is bad, but the sun always shines through.

Suddenly my life has meaning. A smile spreads across my face faster than a bullet leaves the barrel of a gun. For the first time in years I feel confident that I will make it out alive. For the first time in years I feel free of the pressures of society. For once, I look to the lawn gnome with a smug look on my face, as opposed to the look of fragility. I look that damn gnome right in his beady little eyes and I tell him with a triumphant exclamation, “It’s all right.â€

[Steel2Velvet]

Well done! I like the free-flowing style that is at once conversational and also well thought out and executed as literature. I also like your theme and resolution. A great way to live. That optimism and looking for the good in others sure contributed to George Harrison's success and enduring admiration by his peers.

[RyanTurtle]

Thanks. I wasn't sure if it was good or not because it didn't take me long to write. The whole concept stems from the song Here Comes The Sun pretty much bringing me out of about 6 years of depression.

Edited September 30, 2005 by Guest