Your thoughts? : )

This is a story I wrote to express personal anguish.
It’s about personal experiences and feelings I had at the time. I would like to see what you think of it, though.

thanks, : )

tHE room, cluttered and abused, sheltered the boy. This space was his sanctified retreat. Apart from the world, in mind and body, he felt an isolationist’s euphoria. Here he was supplemented with a sustained electric audio wave. The music ravished his ears and his mind, further distorting perception. His time at home transpired in sick and oppressive manner. A certain feeling consumed him; a disturbing energy flowed through his veins. He didn’t understand its meaning or its source; however he felt a dark and assiduous power surge within him. His olfactory senses detected a constant putrid scent. Similarly, his life reeked of frustrated mental anguish. He was the manifest form of pure, unadulterated hypocrisy.
tHOUGH his body uncorrupt and remarkably chaste, his mind was depraved and perverted. Such a character was enemy to both God and Satan. Accepted by neither Heaven nor Hell, he lived in veritable condemnation. The boy suffered the poison of his own mind. He had scarcely experienced happiness, save a very few and isolated instances belonging to his faded youth, one of innocence. His self-asserted identity he labeled Fuse and so it is as Fuse he will be further examined. The activity Fuse exerted appeared uninspired and lifeless, yet a contradiction of his title. Although his very matter was violent and contrast to that of comparative society, his eccentricities were curiously subtle. Fuse lived, for awhile, unnoticed, a blurry and undistinguished figure of background. People recognized him only as a queer, bleak shape in their peripheral sight. Fuse’s true form had yet to be discerned.

—Analysis:

sHE was with him in school.  There, they were essentially together.  Her presence might have blessed Fuse had it not haunted his fragile mind.  He understood the significance of and valued formal education yet he was desperately unmotivated and preoccupied.  He had never known direction in his life, only what society expected of him.  Irregular and unhealthy sleeping habits left him increasingly diminished in activity and perpetuated his suppressed apathy.  Fuse was, in short, empathetically deficient.  Many viewed him unresponsive or unsociable however and one should note, that he was exceptionally amiable, however dull, when it pleased him.  Fuse's most important contact was the aforementioned female.  It was awfully uncharacteristic, but she was priority one.  It was consumed fascination and hatred, their relationship.  His thoughts of her were constant.  When they touched Fuse felt altered, transformed, unnecessarily better.  She knew and understood his feelings with more insight than any other ever had.  Also, there were instances when he wished to grab her and shake her violently, to expel the superficiality which degraded her character.  For it is more appropriate to live without purpose than to live a forged and very much fabricated existence, was at least his belief.  As time and ability permitted, Fuse employed the pencil to express thoughts and feelings.  Like the melancholic rhythm of a wretched song, time beat slowly, torturously in his mind, agitating his every thought.
pRECONCEIVED notions of greatness flaunted before his unforgiving eyes.  He wanted to erase these thoughts, bury and destroy them.  Romantic visions should have bolstered ambition, and would have in any other.  If, he thought, he was destined to think great things why, then, was his mind always blank?  So erratic were his thoughts, and transitively his concentration, focus, and attention that he felt helplessly behind in study.  It had always appeared to him that his age-relative peers were aggressive.  Those students who were, through common unuttered consent, perceived as intelligent gained his most intense dislike.  It was frustratingly difficult for him to function in such an environment, such a distasteful society where his actions and morals could never agree.  He wanted to punish them, all of them, for their blindness.  How ironic then, that it should be against his morals to punish ignorance.  Maturity had long since raped him of childish optimism.  In a sense he outgrew happiness, society, and himself.    
wELL now, Fuse wasn't one to be wasteful with life.  He was meticulously careful in thought and procedure.  His past memories were subject to interminable mental reflection and reevaluation.  He was a dreamer, an idealist.  Perhaps it was want of perfection in life that bred internal lunacy.  Dazed and confused, he glided through time.
oF her he dreamt.  In time his perceived visions would decay into disfigured distortion.  Of their most recent conversation he did dwell:  

hE had voiced, and now attention, as it felt, was a thing of almost tangible manipulation.  He was so sickly deceived.  Her disposition was such that her body was adjacently positioned [to him], her eyes focused [on him] blankly, and her mind independent [of him] and adrift, a now seemingly habitual disposition.  Fuse had been slighted he thought, neglected and replaced.  Her presence, at this time, he neither wanted nor could he bear.  Revolted, he stumbled away, managing a brief, forced goodbye, as he escaped her suffocating vacuum.  After sustaining his breath he felt nothing, and then, anger.  How could the one person his thoughts were permanently attached to, think so modestly of him?  The question had already been prompted after other, earlier occasions but a suitable answer had yet to be conceived.    

iT may be accurate to describe Fuse as chronically detached from the physical present, instead his true self rested among his erratic wandering thoughts, always searching and never achieving conclusion. Most often, his mind wasted away calculating her enigmatic character. His calculations were futile renderings, for her character was seemingly undefined and therefore existed as an indefinite concept. Such unrelenting saturation of his young, fragile, and most private interior strained his energies, and yet to describe his condition as suffering is to disregard her existence.
sHOULD Fuse concentrate his energies into the present task, his success would be substantial.
iN time, Fuse would see himself restored. He knew that such decay would only recover with time. But it must be clarified; restoration is a vague and general description. Fuse may have been restored in good spirit, yet it was more of a mental transformation Fuse underwent.
yOU think, you concentrate so damn hard for a few seconds to understand and nothing comes. And in the flash of an instant an image of your mind presents itself. A scrambled mess, a thousand disconnected wires and a confusion of tiny electric pulses. It’s so funny, it makes no sense and it all seems so damn funny. You are unable to grasp the meaning of anything, and eventually the air around you turns thick and meaningless, and suddenly you’re lost in it. You laugh a shriek of laughter because you’re alive and you don’t care, and you feel more vulnerable in that moment than in any other time you can remember and it feels so good and it’s all so god damn funny.
aND then, you hear it. As it reverberates throughout the room in almost visible waves you can feel a funny tingling conduct itself up through your spine-as if the waves have penetrated, almost akin to a shivering chill when you’re cold. Your body tries to fight it off but it’s a sensation that you love.

hey fuse.

very interesting and thought provoking

good post.

if you’re hapy and inspired b you’re wokr its good.

but in my inconsequential and insignificant opinion you’re tryng far to hard to be profound and it takes away from true meaning.

but maybe i didnt get what you were

i couldnt tell whether or not i liked the use of FUSE in the story.

all around good post mate.

I’m glad you have found it thought provoking and I have been inspired by what I have written.

I guess part of the reason I addressed the main character as ‘Fuse’ was to emphasize the story’s detached perspective on things. I’m not sure if it does the job or not, but I don’t think it hurts…it may be a little bit awkward to get used to at first.

btw, your opinion is exactly what I want, thanks again for giving it