It was midnight when I started to ease myself in my bed. Thinking of what happened all day long, whether I committed any good for the creatures on earth, or was it once again just an ordinary day that passed by, and I moved close to death. Soon after thinking all of this, my mind lapsed and I moved comfortably in my bed, admiring my surroundings, quiet but full of resonance. This was all I could hear. The irony of the atmosphere had me entrapped and I lay there without a sound, fighting with my conscience.
Lately, I have been having sleeping problems, dark circles around my eyes, spotted skin and uneven, bitten nails. I can’t relax and, distinctively, my mind is constantly active, lacking the need to loosen up and calm. Maybe it’s because of my exertion during the day and excessive smoking that have caused the sleepless nights. These were the excuses I gave myself, even though, in the hearts of my heart, I knew the truth was way beyond that.
Still though, I kept reminding myself all the time that no more fags to smoke and no more coffee to drink. But automatically after one fag and a cup of coffee I reached for the other one. It is almost like I am compelled on doing so. While recalling my all day activities, I argued with myself, gave reasons and questioned, even as I worked hard to keep track of the inquest. Upon disproportionate thinking, I forced myself to get out of bed and do something else to keep my mind off the unfortunate events and ease the distress they caused. While doing so, I carried on completing this tissue embroidery I was to make for my best friend on her birthday.
This I did on the other side of the room, distant from my bed, since the bed reminded me of sleep which subsequently suggested thinking, about all day long operations, which I had to escape to maintain peace of mind.
Then I resumed listening to music on TV. For sure, this was the song that elucidated my feelings and gave them a rhythm, I could witness my existence in this song, Crawling, by Linkin Park.
Suddenly, my strange appetite hinted hunger, and since I always listen to the heart in my stomach, I made my midnight snack. Not too appropriate a word since it was way past midnight and the night was almost fading in the day. However, upon searching for life — my definition of food — I got my hand on delicious Chinese food in the fridge, my all-time favourite. Enjoying the smell and the colourful ambience of the edibles I absorbed my mind into it, finally forgetting about all that I normally, or shall I say abnormally, think about.
Now I could really say, I enjoyed my company. A perfect room with dimmed lights and a cool and neat environment. My work of art, the tissue, placed in front of me. And last, but surely not the least, the heaped plate in my hand which made my mood switch from sinking to fresh. That’s why I say good food does it all the time.
Sitting next to my bed, I was taking pleasure from myself when suddenly I eyed myself in the mirror. Now came back the confused me and I almost drifted into a whole New World.
My reflection asked a new question: Why are you dispirited? I answered my reflection: I don’t know!
Reflection asked: Is it because of me? I answered my reflection: I don’t know!
The reflection said: Look at your self. I questioned, How? It said: through me, and disappeared.
I lay still, wanting to freeze the moment, ceasing any movement whatsoever. Now I could understand and believe. Now I could comprehend things from a different perspective.
I could finally recognize. I could breathe and I could see, I could see me.
It was midnight when I started to ease myself in my bed. Thinking of what happened all day long, whether I committed any good for the creatures on earth, or was it once again just an ordinary day that passed by, and I moved close to death. Soon after thinking all of this, my mind lapsed and I moved comfortably in my bed, admiring my surroundings, quiet but full of resonance. This was all I could hear. The irony of the atmosphere had me entrapped and I lay there without a sound, fighting with my conscience.
