Fall Comes

Daylight, a little while ago, unfolded itself into a debris-like painting of luminous reflections. During those moments, time simultaneously became a graspable matter, which lacked the most merciful trait such embodiment could ever possess: mortality. It also acquired a strange, aggressive awareness; therefore the faster I wished it to flow on, the thicker it became. As if it wanted to wreak the greatest havoc possible as it went by. It took daylight a great deal to start to dwindle.

The arrival of gloaming did not mean any improvement at all. It has been long since proved that matter is neither created nor destroyed, it is merely changed in form. Daylight gave way to dusk; the latter melted into the tumbling shape time had lately gotten. The coolness that came along with it did not manage to sooth my anxieties, though. Now I have to cope with my fears and inner voids in the dark, in my cold white room--I have always wanted to have a place of my own. I've been given with extra bedclothes to keep me warm... Only physically. I fortunately brought my own clothes so that I didn't have to wear those embarrassing robes they give in places like this--I wish that famous haute couture designers came around and made some reforms for the future. I rarely eat. Some Mr-know-it-all physicians have unsuccessfully tried to sort out what I am now undergoing. Even if I've been quite often visited by people I find myself lonelier as days go by. It is I who doesn't know what the aftermath is going to look like; it is I who cannot be reached by the others' tears, sympathy, and commiseration; it is I who cannot tell anymore if I was unhappier before or after this, since I lost the ability to understand the difference.

Tomorrow they will take me to the surgery room. I guess my parents will be here in a little while. I always thought that people who complained about the gloominess in hospitals decoration were a bunch of morons. Now I see they were right--well, maybe the formaldehyde and ether smells don't help so much change such prejudice. However, as they told me I wouldn't probably make it--doctors can be so tactful in situations like these--I wasn't surprised at all (nor even hurt.) On a second thought, this is not as bad as it looks. I have been feeling there is nothing worthwhile left. I have been orbiting so much around my incompleteness and disillusionment that such new couldn't shock me. In a matter of hours, I will be anesthetized and go to sleep once again. All my cares and worries about everything I have missed, everything I could never have, everything I was waiting for but never came in the right timing, will fade away. Everything will surely end, along with all the pain and internal loss that have remained with me since long. I am kind of tired. I want to sleep now. I guess I can feel certain relief at last.