The Hypothetical Boy

Suppose there is a boy who is spending his ninth consecutive Friday alone. He doesn't go to edgy weekend parties and laugh really loud at all the half-baked jock jokes. Nor does he find a new girl that night to invite into his car where infatuation plays it's tune and promises are made that neither side will keep. All that is left the morning after is tousled hair, a misshapen hickey, and a handful of regrets land-marked by scars.

He can't remember how many nights like that occurred, but things have changed by the time his daydream ended, and he can't seem to piece together the misconceptions and the forgotten lies to make sense of his reality. He walks naked through the halls of his school, leaving his heart open only to receive a chorus of "hey" from the closed off population that regards him as their friend. He can't help but think that hey is for horses and that maybe George Orwell was right all along. This animal farm he was living in didn't have the conscious to reciprocate his feelings or to hold their own opinions.

Hypothetically, he is documenting his thoughts during said Friday night in hopes to capture his experiences and his vision.  This is done because he is convinced that he is losing his sanity. The humanity that once dwelled within his heart is nothing but a faint memory. He no longer has that memory, all the picture books and the funny looks to the taking naps and sitting on laps. When he knew in the back of his mind that he was seeing the world a few feet shorter than everyone else but was perfectly content with that.

Consider then this boy doesn't know whether to address himself as a boy or a man because he sees great qualities in both and never really had a teenager phase. He had a paradigm shift that brought him to the same location but in a completely different state of mind. The anomaly of the times brought him to his knees.



Imagine that only just moments ago, this boy and his father just got into an argument that accomplished nothing. The boy once saw the brilliance of father and was now disgusted by the one dimensional man that he now stood before. The father yelled at the son and told him to stop making excuses for avoiding reality, and to shut down the keyboard that provided the boy an escape of the mind, and one of the few things in this life that actually provided significance to the boy.

"you're just a robot to me" says the boy

"get your act together" replies the father

"your ignorance is the most frustrating thing I know of" the boy chimes

"just shut up, turn off the computer, and get to sleep" the father yells

"you know I have insomnia"

"grow up"

"just listen to my words for once"





Thus ends the conversation. Thus ends another chapter in this boy's life. Thus another part of his sanity dies. Thus we all grow closer to death.

Hypothetically, of course.