Something, something short story.

[idl12]

I wrote this while sleepy af and listening to excessive amounts of greenday and Avenged sevenfold and trying to avoid doing any actual work. Read it and say things if you have 5 minutes to spare. Hi, btw.
 

Dennis woke up….

Dennis woke up, like he always would, he opened his eyes and sprung up dramatically at a ninety degree angle then looked side to side, then into the palms of his hands, almost reenacting a scene from one of the first person shooter video games he would play. Another day..yet another day that he woke up… He hated the feeling of transitioning from being asleep to being awake, when your brain wakes up, all the switches turn on and you feel yourself again, all the weird, awkward sensations of being a single 19 year old, mildly overweight with mild gynecomastia and overdue assignments comes rushing back, when just a minute ago, it was like they were never there.

 

He slumped out of bed, one foot after the other, the soles of his feet pressed against the carpeted floor as each of his meaty legs disembarked from the bed, he felt sad, he was melodramatic like that, part of him felt that he was the obligatory brooding yet charismatic character present in every story, he made everyone around him better but he had a plethora of emotionally heavy experiences and a bag full of talents and abilities behind him, he was useful in any situation and never showed his pain to those who would never understand, that is, everyone, except the love of his life, to whom he was always a pillar of assertiveness whenever things were chaotic. The other part of him that, to his dismay was grounded in reality knew that he was a 19 year old, who was the comedian of any group he ever involved himself in, he had no interesting stories or experiences to which he could relate so his brain made them up, if anyone ever called him out he would just awkwardly stutter and talk his way out of it..on the next act of self degradation and or tasteless, stale humour for the sake of those he wanted to be his friends, because at the end of the day, no matter what the other part of him saw himself as, he really couldn’t do much of anything and was never a pillar of assertiveness to any love interest but rather  of awkward, ungrounded comedic relief that she didn't mind being around but would never share a spark of sexual interest with. In a way he did make everyone around him better, once they compared themselves to him, they all saw themselves on higher plane of existence.

He moved the mouse on the computer mounted atop a white desk next to his bed, urging the display out of its blank, power saving state, the media program he was using the night before was still open, it’s playlists filled with the music, often of the emotional, heartbroken, mourning, borderline suicidal variety that the real part of him shouldn’t relate to in the least, but the other part found solace and pleasant familiarity in..the last song he played was about not getting the chance to be with the woman you loved more than anything..and having to live with it…well.. some of them found a common association with both parts of him. He glimpsed his browser, minimized to taskbar at the bottom of the screen, he closed it without bringing it into view, not wishing to have to glimpse the facebook page of a certain woman that he knew was still on display.

 

Yawning, he shut down the computer, it’s loud fan suddenly going silent, leaving an eery quietness in the room. Taking of his t-shirt, he looked at his bareback figure In the mirror mounted on his wardrobe, he had been working out for almost 8 months now..he looked great..his chest was puffy, but he looked great…then he looked not so great…as he continued to flex and pose and stare at himself.. he all of a sudden looked the exact same way he looked before he ever laid hands on a barbell…putting back on his t-shirt to hide his obese figure he left his room and descended the stares parallel to it, to the ground floor of the house where his happily married mother and stepfather were making breakfast.