Ceiling. A blank page. A chaotic house with parents near to divorce. And here’s me, lying on my bed. My muffin top settled comfortably in the hard mattress. I’m contemplating if I should work today or not or what would be a better excuse to send to my Boss’ email. I was looking for answers on the white ceiling. It was painted in white like a blank canvass. I was staring at it for a while then my mind drifted somewhere. I spent most of my days dreaming while awake. Fantasizing a book I’d never written ye, a happy family and a food business or a clothing store that promotes my advocacies.
Yet there are days or, mostly, nights that I wasn’t sure of what’s been going. A sudden chill on my nape, my hands were damp of sweat and the untamed voices in my head speak ill of me. I knew myself well but these voices, it’s just so easy to believe them.