music is freedom

Music is freedom

an eighteen year old reluctantly opens his eyes from a deep sleep. hes not a boy but hes not yet a man. hes way overdue for a haircut, and his greasy mop is plastered in the most awkward position from the odd way he sleeps. its 7:00 so he should get up but he lays as motionless as a boulder. because he doesn’t see the point. not an uncommon occurrence by any means. he lays, apathetic, trying to see a real reason why he should crawl out of bed and start his most likely miserable day but he struggles. only making his hopes more dejected. but after 20 minutes of arguing with himself, he Grudgingly stepped out of bed. and into the shower. as he becomes more aware and alert, his mood improves, but he feels no bliss by any means. more just a lack of depression. luckily, after school was the night a group of friends gathers! the thought of that was what got him through the day. but towards the end of the day, he feels a buzz in his pocket, signalling that somebody texted him. a joyous feeling jolted through him, as pathetic as it sounds, he isn’t reached out to often. when he looks at his phone, the message reads “dude to many people are coming tonight, i don’t think you can come”. crushed.
the thought that was getting him through the day, the hope of a night he wouldn’t spent by himself, all the hope he had at the time. crushed. and from there his mood only spirals down faster and faster as he gets home he gets yelled at by his parents, and other misfortunes.
retreated in his room, he sprawls on his bed, similar to as the day began. miserable, but in a vastly worse condition. laying in his bed, millions of thoughts jumble through his mind simultaneously. the combination of the two, misery and a million depressing thoughts, is enough to drive any man crazy and he just wanted it all to cease. immediately by any means. not that he would do something drastic.
eventually he pushes through the apathy that froze him like medusa’s gaze and he rose. he…