In a dark room sits a young man, rough clothes and mangled hair he writes in a diary by candle light.
What have I done today? It’s seven in the evening and the most productive thing I’ve done is washed my face. Where has the time gone? Really though, sitting just thinking about how fast time flows and the ever daunting realisation of death really makes me wonder what I’m doing with my life.
“So James, what did you do on earth?”
“Well you know what Paul, I did fuck all”
How am I going to explain to these people in the after life that I sat around all day? Aw well, a few pain killers and I’ll ponder that subject tomorrow.
James gets up from his chair where he has been sitting for most of the day reading. He has a burning ambition to read as many books as he can to make himself feel smart but by the time he finishes one book he’s forgot what he learnt in the previous one. It’s a boring cycle. Up he stretches and leaves his book over to the bookcase, looking at the floor in disgust at the mess he’s created. Frowning to himself he reads the titles that he has yet to read, stroking the spin of the novels in an attempt to get some wild inspiration to pick one up and read. This notion fails and he walks around his room looking helpless. Stops at his drawer beside his bed, picks up a packet of painkillers and scans for a drink. Remembering he hadn’t drunk all of the beer he had started while reading he travelled over to his desk and filled his mouth with a handful of the pills followed by the rest of the beer can. He exhaled with a sign of relief.
His eyes fix upon posters on the wall, musical icons Hendrix, Morrison and Cobain. Music would make him feel better right now James thought, striding over to the record player he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, fixing his haggard hair he smiles and winks at his reflection. Nope Simon and Garfunkel wouldn’t just cut it for a moment such as this, James thought, yes the Velvets will do quite fine.
James finds the record he’s been hunting for and sets the needle down with great precision, “Heroin” rings throughout the room. James feeling happier about him self sways his head slowly rhythmically with the music, singing along with his low bass toned voice, accompanying Lou. James circles the room looking to set the mood for the night ahead. Racking through his draws for a lighter and incense, lays out candles on top of his desk, his drawer and his book case, lighting each one at a time, making the room look almost magical and sacred. There is no powered light in the room besides his lamp on his desk which he covers with a light red cloth and produces a blood stained effect on the walls and with the help of the mirror beside it, multiples the colour, causing it to dominate the atmosphere. Happy with the ambience he sits on his bed with his head in his hands.