Isle of Mind: The Unhinged

Today’s forecast is calling for a slight chance of rain…

Lebron rises…yes! Cavs pull within 2 of the Indiana…

You have 3 new notifications from…

and the strongest drug of them all…tomorrow will be in the upper 70’s so get out those…be still and bring your attention to your breath…your friend tyler is now on instagram as…and to think it was just snowing three days ago!…one ring to rule them all, one ring to find them…don’t forget to breathe…the cavs will have a chance to win the game here…you have one pending snapchat…don’t forget to breathe…a tornado out west today…don’t forget to breathe…for the win!…don’t forget to breathe. don’t forget to breathe. don’t forget to..

STOP. Breathe.

It is now three days until Thomas is freed.


tick.. tick.. tick..

The clock reads 1:00am before Thomas realizes how quickly the night has passed. He occupies the entire couch—left leg extended, right leg firmly planted on the floor. Only one shoe remains—half-on, laces untied—the other nowhere to be found. A basketball game has just finished up in dramatic fashion, a near-half court shot winning the game as time expired. Thomas lays with one headphone in, a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring by his head—used as a pillow before he rose to Snapchat the final seconds of the game. He is exhausted yet finds himself restless; he knows class comes early in the morning. He lays on the couch for another hour.

It is now two days until Thomas experiences freedom.


tick.. tick.. tick..

A long day of class and work leaves Thomas even more exhausted and craving some well-deserved alone time. The clock in his room blinks 6:00pm. He’s been up since 7:45am, managing to somehow only miss four minutes of his way-too-early Business Law class.

Apple Music continues to play a familiar song on repeat for fifteen minutes before Thomas realizes it’s still playing. He uses his thumbprint—fails. Tries the thumbprint again—fails. Thomas is frustrated. He pushes the ‘home’ button, types in 1463, and swipes up to make the music app disappear. Though he doesn’t consciously say it, he is frustrated because of the extra time it took to finally get some peace and quiet.

He immediately turns on his tv and takes a 2-hour nap.

8:15pm witnesses a grouchy and irritable Thomas awaking. Why did I nap so long? I feel worse off. He checks his phone. Only three texts appear on the notification screen—all from a family group chat. A shot of disappointment runs through his mind and for a split second, he swears he can physically feel it. It is an uncomfortable feeling. He ignores it by checking his Facebook timeline. Then Twitter. Then Instagram. He rubs his forehead and sighs deeply, looking around his room through blurred eyes as if he was still in a dream—then refreshes his Twitter feed again.

Thomas turns on his PlayStation and spends the next few hours playing an online game with some friends he’s met through playing online games. He stumbles into bed at 1:45am, more exhausted than before.

It is now one day until the disaster.


tick.. tick.. tick..

Thomas jolts out of bed to the sound of pounding and a dog whining outside his door. Oh my goodness, just let me sleep! Thomas’ mom says it’s time to get up. The clock reads: Saturday, April 21, Noon.

“Get up and pack! Your flight leaves in seven hours!”

Thomas turns off a Youtube video that helps him sleep and scrolls through his timelines. He plans to start packing but finds himself still lying in bed thirty minutes later. Facebook has been refreshed five times; Twitter has been swiped out of three.

He gathers whatever strength he has to get out of bed and lazily throws wrinkled clothes and uncleaned shoes into a large black suitcase. All the while music blares in the background. All the while his phone never leaves his sight.

Freedom is coming.

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