What transpired was another story -- in another locale. It was at that awkward moment, under a booming silence, I lost my nerves.
I don't know what made me do these. I'm not sure if I was just trying to put myself to sleep or I flustered over the existence of an external force which prompted me to grab that repose pencil.
Or perhaps, it was just an effect of booze coming in. Oh maybe yes, it was.
A. The picture above does not look like exactly how I wanted it to be. I tried to sketch the lamp on the desk. But it doesn't even look like one, does it? That's how abstract I am. #hahaha #excuses
B. I apologize for my extraterrestrial handwriting, but in a more fathomable transcription, it actually reads:
It's an unknown mystery
When coldness comes closely
And you're all alone
Left with a potential fear
The bright light knocks on you
Trying to measure how welcome it is
It's cold, it's silent
It's unpredictable, it's dangerous
Why? Why does fear have to tag along?
When all you want to see
When all you want to fear
Is its deafening possibility
You're left with a sweet ambiguity
Perplexed in a caressing labyrinth
You ask yourself,
Is it red or blue? Black or white?
Then closing windows enter in
But with doors left unlocked
What to do? What to dream?
If I wake up, how are we supposed to see?
---- And as I type it, I want to make revisions. I honestly do. I didn't give this piece a second glance after finishing it at that wee hour. Because all I can remember is my drowsiness trying to knock me out, and the coldness embracing me. I'm pretty sure that there were words in my mind at that time I thought I was writing down. But apparently, I did not. Hell yeah, I was physically and mentally exhausted. Boozy. Wasted.
(So to remember and preserve that feeling from that very moment, even in protest of the not-so-very-and-trying-hard-grammar-nazi in me, I will not change, nor add a word in this.)
I hit the sack at that second I thought it was beginning to feel like I was melting in an ice-cold room where only a whispering melody from a distance was the only capable thing that can gradually overpower a frantic, disturbing moment. Yet no more words -- I did not like to comprehend. I went to bed.
And that's the end.







