It's Late, I Think

the clock blinks 12AM.

I'm tucked beneath the snug and cozy comforters, the laptop nestled on top and the screen glows so bright it hurts my sore eyes.

I'm tired. or I think I am . I don't know...

when I was about nine years old, my Pops made coffee from this nifty little coffee maker somebody had gifted us. once ever so often, he'd brew a big pot and stick it in the fridge to drink throughout the course of the day. having sampled my first sip of coffee at the age of seven, I was and am quite the coffee addict when presented the situation. however, given the chance to deem myself a coffeeholic, I would pass. I'd rather down chocolate bars, kinda like how I ate three Ghirardellis in one sitting for breakfast this morning and felt perfectly at peace. but never mind about that.


I've this theory that caffeine has absolutely no effect on me whatsoever. it has to do with a nine-year old me drinking a whole pot of coffee in one sitting right before bedtime.

12:06 AM

when your eyelids feel heavier but your mind's still running 120 miles per hour, sleep eludes you. when the house sits in dead silence, even the sound of fingers hitting the keys seem loud. too loud. every time I look at the clock, the time seems to slip by faster. I hate that.

I had an odd sensation this morning, looking out the window and waving at the familiar face with one hand, while clutching my violin with the other. I rarely ever cry. it's not something I think about I suppose. the act of crying just doesn't really come to me... and I'm not referring to tearing up at sob stories and movies. when you feel the pain that's utterly gut-wrenching and so deep, even crying doesn't feel right at that moment. that's the kind of pain you drown in by silence and that's the worse because nothing can relieve that. nothing at all. today was different. today it sprung up out of nowhere and burned. it clung. it hurt. but it wasn't really that ache-y kind of pain. it was peaceful and subtle. it lingered longer than expected, then just like how it had come, it left.

1:01 AM

they're taking the hobbits to Isengard. again. that bearded wizard can really sing. who knew.

the next time I take a standardized test, I'm going to down some Red Bull and see what ridiculous things will ensue. tomorrow morning, I'm going to be writing that stinker of an essay and get distracted about what nonsense I scribbled.

words swim together. I've always thought how lovely it would be to sit under the canopy of stars when summer arrives in all its liberating splendor. but first, spring will come. I'm waiting.

1:05 AM

goodnight. or morning. alright SATs, bring it.