Status: TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK
Untitled
POINTLESS?
Pointless?
Something jerked him awake. He felt this familiar feeling again. Of a plug being tugged until it was disconnected from the vast circuitry of unconsciousness. This disconnection had deleted any possible memory of a dream. An image.
He had still been in a state of sleep. A blank movie film finally reeling back and at last, he was aware again.
He felt an urge to get out of his bed, but the concrete darkness gave him a sense of fear. It was the sort of feeling that creeps down your neck. You can feel an imaginary hand grip each vertebra with needle-like nails digging deeper and deeper into the marrow and injecting a toxin that multiplied this feeling of being alone. He was paralyzed by the darkness, of childhood monsters, invisible in the dark. If he was to touch the floor with his toe, there was a fear of stepping on large constricting snakes. Moments went by as he gathered himself. He watched orbs of lights that laid in the dormant of his peripheral vision.
He looked out the window. He could tell the time by the shades of blue that the sky was. If it was an obsolete navy, it was certainly nine-or-ten perhaps eleven. But after twelve o’clock the navy began to smudge into a royal blue. Then it would fade into dark-color denim, at this point it was about one-thirty or two. Finally the sky would illuminate with a blue-green tint, and now it would be four or six. But at this moment, he looked out and saw the illuminated shade of royal blue that was nearing into denim. Being that there was some light he breathed normally now and felt the fear recede back into the certain, darkest corner of his room, or mind.
He pressed his feet as he stepped out onto cold tile, relieved that there were no serpentine creatures cuffing around his ankles, just tile. Nonetheless there was still the ache of uncertainty and vulnerability that hung in the darkness and as soon as he reached his feet and stood he raced in the direction of the doorway and near that doorway would be on the left side. A light switch. He swatted desperately at the painted surface and grazed the familiar switch and flicked in on…
The room was… well a room. Normal, with books and school work. Clothes sprawled on the floor of the closet. Normal. He adjusted his eyes to the brightness of the room. He blinked at the crust and goo that stuck and clung to the corner of his eyes making him tired. He lost all motivation to leave his room. What was it that he even got up for? All sense and logic – well there was none. He stared aimlessly at the light switch. For no particular reason he stared. Unthinkingly. Mindlessly. Starring. He wanted to look away but didn’t. He kept his eyes fixated on the light switch. As stated, for no real reason. Perhaps he was too tired or too lazy to look away.
It happens. Everyone stares at things. there doesn’t really have to be a reason for it. Something just seems to be appealing about the light switch. Or maybe it’s not that at all. There might not be anything appealing about that light switch. Just the calmness one feels from staring. Trance! The word trance. He was in a tired trance of sorts. This trance was calm, thoughtless, without meaning.
He blinked from this trance. And made it a point to sigh. Turn off the light. And go to bed.
Something jerked him awake. He felt this familiar feeling again. Of a plug being tugged until it was disconnected from the vast circuitry of unconsciousness. This disconnection had deleted any possible memory of a dream. An image.
He had still been in a state of sleep. A blank movie film finally reeling back and at last, he was aware again.
He felt an urge to get out of his bed, but the concrete darkness gave him a sense of fear. It was the sort of feeling that creeps down your neck. You can feel an imaginary hand grip each vertebra with needle-like nails digging deeper and deeper into the marrow and injecting a toxin that multiplied this feeling of being alone. He was paralyzed by the darkness, of childhood monsters, invisible in the dark. If he was to touch the floor with his toe, there was a fear of stepping on large constricting snakes. Moments went by as he gathered himself. He watched orbs of lights that laid in the dormant of his peripheral vision.
He looked out the window. He could tell the time by the shades of blue that the sky was. If it was an obsolete navy, it was certainly nine-or-ten perhaps eleven. But after twelve o’clock the navy began to smudge into a royal blue. Then it would fade into dark-color denim, at this point it was about one-thirty or two. Finally the sky would illuminate with a blue-green tint, and now it would be four or six. But at this moment, he looked out and saw the illuminated shade of royal blue that was nearing into denim. Being that there was some light he breathed normally now and felt the fear recede back into the certain, darkest corner of his room, or mind.
He pressed his feet as he stepped out onto cold tile, relieved that there were no serpentine creatures cuffing around his ankles, just tile. Nonetheless there was still the ache of uncertainty and vulnerability that hung in the darkness and as soon as he reached his feet and stood he raced in the direction of the doorway and near that doorway would be on the left side. A light switch. He swatted desperately at the painted surface and grazed the familiar switch and flicked in on…
The room was… well a room. Normal, with books and school work. Clothes sprawled on the floor of the closet. Normal. He adjusted his eyes to the brightness of the room. He blinked at the crust and goo that stuck and clung to the corner of his eyes making him tired. He lost all motivation to leave his room. What was it that he even got up for? All sense and logic – well there was none. He stared aimlessly at the light switch. For no particular reason he stared. Unthinkingly. Mindlessly. Starring. He wanted to look away but didn’t. He kept his eyes fixated on the light switch. As stated, for no real reason. Perhaps he was too tired or too lazy to look away.
It happens. Everyone stares at things. there doesn’t really have to be a reason for it. Something just seems to be appealing about the light switch. Or maybe it’s not that at all. There might not be anything appealing about that light switch. Just the calmness one feels from staring. Trance! The word trance. He was in a tired trance of sorts. This trance was calm, thoughtless, without meaning.
He blinked from this trance. And made it a point to sigh. Turn off the light. And go to bed.
♠ ♠ ♠
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