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I am secluded in my own world. I separate myself from the rest, so that I can observe how the blue paint covering the walls contrasts with the bleached floor, stretching throughout the room. Morning sunlight casts white streaks, that shake on the patterned covers on my bed. They are caused by the waving palm fronds outside, letting brightness filter gently through their green fingers. 

I rub the last bits of fatigue out of my eyes, and just stare at the curtains that hang almost straight from the ceiling. There is a kind sort of serenity in the morning, no voices that string they're audible sounds through the hall. The day doesn't demand anything of me, it just pushes me to roll over and pull sheets tightly over my head. Ten o clock laziness causes one to think about small things, the way that the cotton blankets look like a turbulence of waves when crumpled up. I fan them out over my legs, and the waves are gone, and the sea is straight again. 

There is so much time to think about these small unimportant things.The sun has already risen a while ago, the light getting stronger and stronger. I start to feel blinded, so I pull the covers towards my eyes. Through the tops of the cloth, I watch how the comet-like streaks of light bounce around on the surface of my shin. I put a hand over it and it transfers to there. The room’s color starts to emerge, the grey color of nonchalant paint turns to blue grey. The streaks are slowly moving away from my legs. The room’s contours become more profound, and the shadows stick tightly to the back of the half closed door. My mother calls me to the kitchen.




Sitting in my bed sinks me deeper into states of peace, the covers over my head, and me seeing nothing but black. Then the other blanket going between my calves, and wrapped around my feet. Being so comfortable and submerged into soft fabric, I cannot move from my particular place, possibly just enough so that I can extend my legs out for room. Looking around, the colors have dulled from when the three fluorescent lights have been turned off, and everything seems dull, yet calm, casting its effect on my body; my muscles all relax.


I widen my eyes, trying to capture all the light they could possibly view. Casting them towards the doorway, I see a color scale of blacks and greys. Leaning against the wall is the chalky orange light. It comes from the streetlight outside, that stays on, seemingly always. I sit there in a blank calm aura, eyes open, but the weight of my lids forces them shut. I can lay on my side and stare at the gentle moonlight that peeks through the white curtains that hang loosely on thin white poles. The thoughts I have had throughout the day percolate my mind, keeping me from getting my rest. There is so much to think about, my curiosity flows way out of the bindings within these four walls.

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