This is one of those moments when I just want to throw a pillow in my roomate’s face. How dare she listen to Dancing Queen when I’m in hell?! I’m working on a final paper on scientific revolution— I hate science, it makes my life miserable.

I see the sun gradually lighting up the sky. I can see the trees now, and they are blocking the faraway buildings.

New York is too crowded and my room too cramped for me to even stretch. I’m drowing in late night coffee, wrapping papers of yesterday’s food, and shopping bags from last week. I’m barely breathing. My room smells like sweat. I inhale the air that I just exhaled.

The constrcution noises start. It’s 5:30 AM. I think I’m still awake.

My mind tells me I have to set my clock back after final week— A wild schedule could be suicidal. But my heart enjoys the punishment somehow. I’m young and reckless, is there anything else for me to do other than punishing myself?


2 thoughts on “BREATHE

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