"Alright see-ya later. Adios."

"You can't leave the bread sit out"

[Silence]

"This isn't store bought bread."

[Silence]

"It doesn't have all those preservatives."

[Silence]

"It will get moldy."

[Silence]

Is life nothing but a series of mindless elaborations that go on and on and on with no purpose so that at the end of the day we so eloquently state that life is, "...a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing?"

So as the last day of the semester looms over my head, and with it the last day of traditional schooling, I’m tempted to ask myself whether or not I’ve seen all that life has to offer. Distraught, I ask myself "Is this how it is? Fixing the car when it breaks down? Going to work forty-hours a week? Checking an empty email inbox day after day in hopes that something will change? Doing laundry and preparing food to sustain me one more day in this vicious cycle of repetition that never ceases to end?" In asking these question I’m overtaken by a prophetic vision in which I’m led to the center of my town, the town I’ve spent endless summers driving through, only to have a masked visionary figure state "This is life", whereas I respond back in a puzzling tone stating, "WTF, this is only [My Town]."

Forgive me, though I fail to see the point. Maybe I feel this way because it’s the end of the semester, which always leaves me distraught, or perhaps it’s because I watched Ashley walk out of my life today. Ashley, her friend, and I all stood outside of the restaurant where we ate on a daily basis in that momentary awkward silence when I casually stated, "Alright see-ya later. Adios." in my traditional callous fashion - pretty smooth, wouldn't you say? In response, I’m tempted to call her up and state how much I will miss her, how much I care for her, and that I want my existence to revolve around her - that I would do anything for her and that I want a relationship in which we are completely inseparable so that our existences are so intertwined that it will be impossible for us to be defined individually...but...

...I already tried that once, and it didn't change anything. Instead of going on with that rant, I listened to her as she stated more news about her ex-boyfriend and his plans to return. I would wager to say there are many cruel acts in this world, many images that all of us would love to forget, though I would say none is as cruel as a woman dwelling on her past boyfriend in the presence of a man who absolutely adores her.

In my moment of hesitation, I am immediately drawn back to a previous moment in my life where I suffered from a brief bout of insomnia. I lived in an apartment complex where the tenet above me would play his music just loud enough so that I could make out the rhythmic notes of the bass, which in turn would keep me up all night long. After the third straight night of sleeplessness I broke down (I cannot function without 8 hours of sleep, let alone three days) and laid out on the bathroom floor praying to God that the sound would subside so that I could get some sleep. I remember thinking that as someone takes your sleep, they take all that you have as they leave you in that dreamlike state where you cannot function, cannot think, and cannot live but merely exist as a mindless puppet that can do nothing more than feel pain.

In that tragic moment of seeing myself wrapped up in my hoodie laying out on the bathroom floor, I’m immediately drawn to a parallel between then and now where the same distinct pain seems to linger in both rooms with no end in sight. They say that time heals all wounds…

…that’s what they say anyways…