I woke up in a room made of cement. Each wall's painted a different color; I'd say what color but honestly I can't really put my tongue on their names. Never had the greatest memory, but this is not normal. I don't even know how I got here, how this paper and pen got here, how these goddamn colors got here. I've been trying to figure it out though-went back in my head to the last thing I remember. All I've got so far is the smell of someone, someone I'm pretty sure I love. Or loved? Who knows, there's no way to tell how long it's been. I tried scratching marks into the cement, but there were issues. My nails aren't exactly made of diamond, and I'd have to count each fuckin' second out. Yeah so that's no good. I didn't even see the paper here on the table until a few "hours" in. Table was so solid white; whoever designed this place must be blind...anyways, I'm fuckin' bored in here so I've decided to write. Doesn't really matter on what I guess...never really been the creative type. But ya know, make lemonade out of lemons. Some fuckin' shit lemons. Anyways, I'm done for now.
So I finally got to sleep and woke up just a few something ago (no point in using time units, who knows what the fuck time it is anymore). I think I was dreaming, but it's hard to say. All I *can* say is that I saw a flash of intense light and suddenly I wasn't in the room anymore. I was outside! Middle of the night from the look of things but still, I was actually outside. I could smell the freshness of the air, the buzzing of the crickets in tune with the twinkling of the stars overhead. I walked around a couple of blocks; it was a nice neighborhood. There were people out, but I didn't really feel like talking. Didn't seem like they wanted to anyways. I wanted to see where I was specifically, but I had apparently spent enough time outside. Pretty soon, the intense light slowly became all I could see, all I could sense. And like that, my consciousness plunged back into this familiar reality. I can't even fathom what the hell just happened to me. I'd chalk it up to cabin fever, maybe a manifestation of my desire to get out of here? Dreams are pretty crazy constructs, ya never know what your mind could be trying to tell you through them. Needless to say, I have countless theories. Nothing concrete though, it'd be a waste of time to write them down on paper. I know people say that the catharsis of making your thoughts reality, even on paper, could help bring them to a fuller circle. Maybe...but dreams aren't the worst of my problems. If anything, they're the only good thing I've got going in here. In here, I already feel like a prisoner, shackled to the small space that this place leaves me in. I'll never amount to anything as long as I stay inside this room, but in my head I can go anywhere. I can pretend like I know what's happening to me, like I can remember my life before all this...like someone hasn't robbed me of my future. The pen feels like it's running out of ink so I'll stop for now. I do remember something pretty small though now. In my dream, I could feel the freshness of the air, a freshness that only comes from mid spring. Well, somehow that helped me remember something about my last day on the outside. My shoes crunching on leaves as they fall across my path to work, the sun starting to set before I even got home for supper, my son going to his first day of school...it was fall. I thought I was here for only a few days...I never thought it could have been months.
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