achieve
as he lay slumped across the desk, he slowly felt a drowsy feeling take over him. he slowly checked the time, he assumed he could give himself 15 minutes of sleep. he was tired, his mind was tired, his body was tired. felt a little weak but that mattered little now. his unconcious took over.
and he woke with a start, his eyes were trying to adjust to the bright light inside the room. his sheets of paper lay to the left , with a pen still in his hand. he looked at the computer screen slowly, it was 7 minutes past the 15 minutes he thought about. his head felt a little dizzy, his mouth dry and his body weak. it was past 4 in the night. he could not afford to waste any more time.
splash ! the cold water on his face stung like ice needles. but it woke him up .. to reality. having a room right next to the toilet was useful. he washed his face a bit more and looked in the mirror.
he looked at himself, his face. his eyes open but red in color. his mouth set upon flatly on the skull, unshaven face did not do him justice. he held the basin as he tried feeling normal again. he looked straight into the mirror, and wanted all his strength to come back. his head was slumping, his eyes weary were trying to close again. cold water again.
this was what he wanted. he had to do it. he could not be distracted, it was the moment for him to create something. he had to work that there was no choice. he was alone but it did not matter. the images around him seemed like a blur. but he knew what he was doing and why he was doing this. his future was at stake, as he sat down he counted on every reserve of strength he might have in his body. he knew this was it, his passion .. his dream. dreams of reality. the dream was huge which made him a little quiet when he thought about it. it was his own , not to be shared.
he slumped down on the chair again and yawned. he stared at the computer screen , and started typing .. and then he was typing. and typing while getting into the flow. the screen seemed hallucinating but he had to do it. it was his passion,
to be contd.
and he woke with a start, his eyes were trying to adjust to the bright light inside the room. his sheets of paper lay to the left , with a pen still in his hand. he looked at the computer screen slowly, it was 7 minutes past the 15 minutes he thought about. his head felt a little dizzy, his mouth dry and his body weak. it was past 4 in the night. he could not afford to waste any more time.
splash ! the cold water on his face stung like ice needles. but it woke him up .. to reality. having a room right next to the toilet was useful. he washed his face a bit more and looked in the mirror.
he looked at himself, his face. his eyes open but red in color. his mouth set upon flatly on the skull, unshaven face did not do him justice. he held the basin as he tried feeling normal again. he looked straight into the mirror, and wanted all his strength to come back. his head was slumping, his eyes weary were trying to close again. cold water again.
this was what he wanted. he had to do it. he could not be distracted, it was the moment for him to create something. he had to work that there was no choice. he was alone but it did not matter. the images around him seemed like a blur. but he knew what he was doing and why he was doing this. his future was at stake, as he sat down he counted on every reserve of strength he might have in his body. he knew this was it, his passion .. his dream. dreams of reality. the dream was huge which made him a little quiet when he thought about it. it was his own , not to be shared.
he slumped down on the chair again and yawned. he stared at the computer screen , and started typing .. and then he was typing. and typing while getting into the flow. the screen seemed hallucinating but he had to do it. it was his passion,
to be contd.
posted by void_spaces at
10:20 PM
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