There is a moment of clarity in some things. It's a crystal clear picture. You can can see yourself as if you were in portrait mode. It's like that moment you put a quarter in an arcade pinball machine. You're focused on trying to see the angles before the ball ever hits the chute. Still, sharp, while all around you is muted and blurry.
Holding my breath. Head in my hands. Eyes closed. Feeling it wash over me. I'm not saying it, but it's vibrating through my spirit.
I can't take this shit anymore. The thought is loud as it bounces around in my head. I can't take this shit anymore. The heavy weighted ball of the pinball machine. Why can't this shit ever be different? You know how it moves around and hits the bumpers? I'm so sick of the same shit. Lighting them up one at a time.
A brief flare of illumination -then it bounces off the next emotion. Ironic the ball is called a captive. The click of the thought, sharp like when you hit the flapper too hard and it bounces off the glass. Gaining and losing strength as it goes. Points adding up in the background like useless, whispered conversation. Almost taunting you to keep up as it skids off a lazy ricochet or rolls frantically out of a bonus hole. Hitting hard rubber- bumper to bumper and back.
Until (I) it (can't) hits (take) the (this) flapper(shit) just (anymore) right. Too much on the left, not enough on the right. That monent it hits it, I can see the angle.
Fuck this shit. I'm done.
The ball slides between the flappers. A millisecond of relief at the loss because at least I'm not chasing the shit anymore.
Well, not OVER over since I fed it another quarter, cause I got $5 bucks in change when I walked in this stupid place. No sense in weighing my pockets down.
I'll watch the ball as it resets in the ramp. Waiting for the plunger to build up enough tension to send it rolling again.
I can't take this shit anymore.... but I will. Cause that's what I do.