Writing Practice (1)

My eyes squint as I stare at the window beside me. Rays of the morning sun has begun to pour into my otherwise dark room. My curtains lay dangling as I had forgetten yet again to shut them at night. The air conditioning I had on since yesterday had degraded my room temperature into a winter-esque degree and is making me shiver. I stood up and stretched my frozen body, letting out a loud yawn in the process. Sleep has eluded me once again and seems to be turning into a foreign and mysterious word nowadays. Satisfied with the stretch and feeling a little less sleepy than before, I returned my attention to the computer screen in front of me. A blank document. It isn't actually blank though... It was filled with a bunch of incoherent sentences and words that I presumed I typed out in my sleep, so it might as well be a blank piece of document. I didn't know what to write. Spending a few sleepless nights thinking about it didn't help either, as evidenced by the rubbish that is in front of me. Trying again to write down something so that it wasn't a complete waste of time staying up, I looked around my mess of a room for inspiration. Reference materials are lying all over the floor, to the point that it was almost impossible to see the floor beneath. Empty lunchboxes still in their plastic bags are bundled up in a corner of the room. ...It's kinda impossible to derive any sort of inspiration from this mess.

My mind, apparently having decided to shut itself up like a young teenager that just broke up with his other half, did not function as well as I'd like it to be. Resolving to return to this a little later, I stood up again, knocking a few of the many empty energy boosting drink cans that was sprawled all over my computer desk. I dragged my feet towards the kitchen and opened the small refridgerator door. Food however, was non-existant inside, and I grabbed another energy boosting drink again. Returning to my other workspace near my computer table, I slammed the can of drink onto the wooden table and picked up a pencil that was carelessly left at the edge. This particular workspace wasn't exactly tidy either. Pieces of half-drawn materials and blank pieces of paper are sprawled all over the already small table. Crunched up rejects are around the table, building up to a sizable amount. Maybe I'll start to seriously clean this room up when I have the time, which seems to be a luxury these few days. A luxury which I don't have. I gave myself a light slap on the cheek to stay awake, which worked for a good 10 seconds before I felt groggy again. Without much of a choice, I snapped open the lid of the can drink next to me and gulped the entirety of its contents. Unfortunately though, any form of energy boosting seems to have lost its effects. Probably because this was my entire diet for the past 2 days. Despite my body's overwhelming cry to let it sleep, the hand which is loosely gripping a pencil started to move on the blank canvas. The rough image of what I wanted on the canvas had started to slowly appear in my mind. Although, the current fragility of it caused the image to quickly disappear, and what appeared on the canvas is a distorted monstrosity that vaguely resembles a human. Maybe I have a talent for drawing gorey monsters.

At this point in time, my bodily functions has started to shut down. My hand lost grip of the pencil. The coldness of my body could no longer be felt. The light sound of the air conditioner running had stopped. Now this is bad. My mind, while not my strongest and most durable feature, was one of the last to shut down and die. The last thought in my head was a bed. And out of compliance with this fact, my legs started to automatically move towards the nearest bed. That's weird... I remember my bed being here. What was in its supposed place however was a mountain of books. Oh well, I guess sleeping on a chair isn't that bad. I retraced my steps, but my chair - no - my entire workspace was gone. In its place is a grumpy old man wearing a sweater. I know him. He's my editor. Probably here for my drafts again. Hahahah. Fuck you old man, you ain't gonna get it now that my workspace's disappeared. Come to think of it, even if it hasn't, all he's going to get is an empty document and a half drawn humanish monster. Guess it doesn't really matter anymore. I'm so tired that I could sleep anywhere. And look at that, my entire room turned into a flower garden. "I'm sorry flowers, but I going to have to sleep on you". I let my instincts take over and fell face first into the flower field. Huh. Pretty hard for flowers. But I didn't care, sleep is the utmost priority now. Maybe I'll go and look for my room once I wake up. Yeah, that's a good idea...

I suddenly felt a sharp jab to my sides. Ouch. Didn't know flowers had thorns. Ignoring the pain, I went back to sleep. But no sooner came another sharp jab. The flowers are seemingly reluctant to let me sleep on them. But I didn't care. The flowers are not taking this gesture very well apparently as I felt a sharp pain to my abdomen. "Ouch!" I sat up in pain quickly... face-to-face with an all too familiar female. And apparently I'm back in my own room too... sitting on top of opened hard-covered books. "It's about time you woke up." yelled the female. I ignored her and stretched. Wow, what an insane dream that was. I took a peek at the clock dangling off my wall. 8.30am. Guess I've been asleep far longer than necessary. "Hey, don't ignore me!" yelled the female again. "Shut up, I'm getting up already." I said lazily. After awhile, I do actually get up and started to stretch again. The female gave an exaggerated sigh. "You know, you can try sleeping on your bed for once." she said I looked at her with my half asleep eyes. "You changed your hairstyle." I think that got her blood boiling. "W..wha!? Don't ignore what I said! Yeah, I changed my hairstyle, so what?" "...It looks good on you." "...!" Her cheeks flushed red. "Shut up! Get changed! We're almost late!" she yelled before stomping off outside. "Heh, that got her off my back."



After thoughts: Deviated too much from what I originally intended. Story warped when approaching the "dream" portion. Must take into consideration original intention and a clear path to convey that intention.


Oh yes, I'll be doing more of these practices. If I'm writing, might as well show it to the occasional guy who stumbles into this place right? Anyway, it's good practice, and goes to show how much I have to go to improve.