29 años. Soñadora. Creativa. Parlanchina. (makeiri) wrote,
29 años. Soñadora. Creativa. Parlanchina.

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Time Tortures Me

I stare at nothing, listening to the quiet voice of silence.
It has been some time since I have moved, my legs feel cold and heavy.
Grasping at the warmth of the sun that I can feel in my skin, I slowly come back to my senses.
The class keeps on going, the teacher talking nonstop while my classmates check their cellphones or whisper gossip.
I am sitting next to the window, the sun shining brightly makes my eyes hurt.
How long has it been since I last checked the time?
30 minutes? 20?
5 minutes.
This seems like a joke, and not a nice one at that.
I sigh quietly and wait. 
I am impatient most of the time, so waiting is not one of my favorite activities.
It seems that time has stretched itself, making my mind fuzzy with boredom and heat.
When finally we are allowed to leave the classroom, I feel a tiny bit of myself smile. But not all of me.
It has been some time since I last smiled completely, even if I can fake a smile every now and then to not worry those who notice.
Before, when I was more awake than dazed, I would write in class.
Little poems, small ideas for future stories...even a love story.
Not anymore.
I have grown tired of routine. I can't stand filling my head with ideas that will become nothing for my future.
The next class is pretty much the same as the first one.
Time seems to be my enemy.
Somehow it makes me unhappy to realize that this is my life, and most of the time I keep thinking on how I want things to rush by so that I can stop suffering of boredom.
The little things I used to enjoy don't even make me smile anymore.
I spend a lot of time by myself, even if I'm sorrounded by people. 

I suppose I need a letter of my own.


-Written after playing "The Letter" in my sis' DS.

I want to write graphic novels so badly it hurts, but for now I have to finish cleaning up my room.
Today is the final day of cleansing.

I'm ready for this!
Tags: escritos, myself, random
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