I just hate the moment when everything comes tumbling down on you five minutes after you wake up. I could spend a life time practicing the art of staying there, just staying in a state where you can lay and think about anything and everything except the day ahead and the days to come.

Things around, objects on the floor, the wall clock that is in the darker corner of the room, the time that's dark and cannot be seen. A few lazy moments spent guessing whether it's 12 0r 9 or 6 and then resignedly resorting to looking at the window for an idea. Not wanting at all to switch on the lights. They're too loud. As if someone just blasted out an irritating pop song on the stereo and all you can do is clamp your hands on your ears as hard as you can, and in case of the lights its the eyes. Hand eye coordination here.

Thin slivers of light framing the door, sometimes a little too bright to decide if it's just sunshine or we're having an alien invasion again. Oh, hello. The tiny space between the window curtains which confuses you to no end along with the clouds zooming past the sun. And for one tiny flicker of a moment of hope that maybe it rained, or it's going to. Or maybe it will sometime this week.

Any sound rumbling loud enough is wished to be interpreted as rumbling rain clouds. But it's a sad story. Coming back inside, eyes travelling to the absolute corners of the room, the mirrors and the clock again. Still a little ununderstandable. Shifting to objects hung on the back of doors. Stark contrast against the white. This time it's a lone school tie, dark dark green but looking black out here on the bed. I never liked ties. At all. It does bring up a choking feeling of nostalgia. Pun intended. The tears chokey though, not asphyxia chokey.

Pushing it away and far.

Feeling the comfortableness of the bed and the absolute silence being broken by a twitter of birds or a faint honking horn in the background. It gets better after the a/c is switched off. But not yet, please not yet. That's the final step to getting up. And no one likes getting up. Not here, anyway.

No one likes honking horns either, I don't like cars altogether. It's just coloured metal and machine parts. And simple ugly. I have no idea how people fall in love with cars and and are interested at all in them. I wish someone drew inspiration from the Flintstones vehicles. The world WOULD be a better place. In more ways than one.

Lying there thinking about people and people that matter. Thinking about the comedy routine last night which went something like - Can't sleep.. can't sleep. Why am I so obsessed? Again? Am I in lov-- no. @&#^%#* I just can't sleep. Darned mosquitoes. I'm gonna kill you. And then sighing and revising the whole thing over and over again.

And then repeating it again right in the morning - What? Really? Do you think so? Nah. Naw. No. Dumb. That's dumb dumb dumb. Then just pausing there for a second and holding my breath. Do I have schizophrenia? Thinking it over.. now, how does that even matter even if I do?

Trying to snap out of it all. A mountain of clothes on a chair nearby and some scattered on the floor. A contrast again. Trying to guess what it is. Looking at objects before the curtain. Silhouetted metal stick-figured men and women who act as candle stands after the sun rises.

Ooh, I get a text message. Oh, please do not include me in your stupid chain texts when we hardly ever or NEVER even talk to each other. Selfish much? And now you ruined it. Pretty bad. But anyway..

Glancing at mirrors to see what they reflect. I plan to set up mirrors in a way that I won't have to get up to see places I can't see and everything just comes to me instantly. Maybe I could mirrorise the entire house. How nice would that be. Or more than just a building. No, no running away, imagination.

We can think about something nicer. Nicer things. Nice-y Wise-y. Perfect.

Then I would talk about going back to a more believable version of reality. And thinking about consequences/ results of the actions/ exams. But then.. who wants to? I'll settle for this much. "Perfect" will suffice. Thank you very much.