a room of one's parents, but a room, a room nevertheless

a quiet room, lots of light, and a foggy view of the outside world. i sit in silence, such stillness is absolutely delightful. i take in the details of this scene, percisely for what they are, details. i try not to extrapolate by metaphor, instead, i consume, i consume this quiet. the light pushes softly on my retinas, intensifying and dimming in no particular pattern, and i match my breath to it, inhaling deeply at it's brightest. a fly moves in geometric pattern, cool, collected, methodical. i watch it for a while, like the hopeful watch the stars. i search for a story, then stop myself, and watch the text emerge from the carved out space behind its movement. there are artificial lights too, bright green and alien. they don't flicker or dim, they register as important points of endless energy i don't understand. a mass of crumpled blankets peak and valley like too many mountains i've seen before. i skirt the edges with my mind, imagine the lint slides and fallen hairs like trees decorating the landscape. i pick up my coffee cup only to be met with disappointment, when did it disappear? isn't that how it goes though? you go to sip and realize that all the anticipation and delight you imagined will not be fulfilled? don't think i'm being a pessimist, this isn't a metaphor for life. remember, no extrapolations, no calling one thing another in such grandiose sweeping terms, (ah, but i can't help it). a pessimist doesn't realize that the next cup of coffee is a mere few steps away. i pause.

where was i? i sip my coffee, ah Folgers...i'll spend my last dime on something with a bit more personality tomorrow, but i've had worse. oh the power of comparison, it can make anyone a pessimist or an optimist depending on how you pair (pare) things.

the rooster cuts in sure as the light and the fridge maintains the white noise of modern living. i let my back completely give into this coushioned chair, my baggy night-time clothes, still draping me in sleepy, seamless fluidity. it all feels like a dream. my mind wanders and bumps up against responsibility. i focus, bring myself back to the details. i am a tired warrior and i don't dare fight the dragon today.

a horse head looks at me from across this wide, open room. if i stare at it long enough it melts into the wall behind and i find myself living in a two dimensional world. i wonder if the ti leaf plant inside resents the plants outside? but resentment is a human emotion right? oh, i don't understand anything sometimes.