Now.Outside my window, the world turns.Planes and dust particles fly into the air. the waves crush upon the shore. The earth shifts. Hell burns and the angels weep.
And I was trapped to a particular spot, hating it. My room. It was one of those moments where one finds herself with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no money to get there anyway. And time just drove sanity up the wall. Fortunately, I was one of those people who were given to long staring-into-space kind of silences. Every now and then, I'd write somehing scrape before drifting off again. It was an essay about the migraine that was wrecking my skull. Pain on paper. I crammed my whole notebooks with them. i wrote about disillusionment, abiding rage to the worst planet, and insurmountable angst to the super drum in my own universe. Immense lexis for an eighteen year old nincompoop. Small words for a cursed wench who hated bigotric turn in her own earth.
I bear malice towards the imperceptible episodes in my accidental existence in this innate orb. I couldn't conceive myself having to encounter such rebellious actsin this damn orb. I met some brawny people who made me feel so extraordinary. I opted to make them my atypical cronies. The unfaltering adventures we had that made our knot authentic suddenly changed into an unexpected threat.
I do not know who to condemn. I do not know what to ask and who to ask.I do not know the point in dispute. I do not know the query behind all these. I just want sweeping silence in the middle of the quivering noise. This is all I want. This is all I need. I abhor to hear from them.