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PURSUIT OF ACCEPTANCE

Tossing and turning, she could confidently recall, could have sworn to hearing the repetitive sparking of a lighter

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Tossing and turning, she could confidently recall, could have sworn to hearing the repetitive sparking of a lighter. Softer sounding frequency merely a distant memory to the half conscious state of mind she proceed to endure. It's distance near, tranquil.. calming.. even, but she was too comfortably uncomfortable, too uneasy, too apprehensive to stay still and allow the consistent vibrations traveling through the air lullaby her mental and tense physique back to sleep. Subconsciously rolling over, she sighed apprehensively; feeling as if she were trapped, figuratively tied down; feeling physically and emotionally tied down as her overwhelmed mental drew in and out of the state of consciousness, her body in and out of extensive focus. Her worst nightmares holding the tranquility of her mind hostage, voices that were merely just her conscience averting any form of pragmatic cognitive behavior from interrupting the dormancy of her mindset.

Nostrils flared with every inhale she took, and with every exhale, they decreased in circumference. Subconsciously furrowing her eyebrows, she also sighed feverishly once a familiarly relaxing scent insinuated itself into her nasal cavity, the familiar scent mixed with a sweet welcoming aroma evoking the slow venture she took, leaving the half state of unconsciousness she had been in. Her eyelids met and departed repeatedly, shielding and repetitively unsheathed her red pigmented orbs with an evident restlessness; in due response to the fact that her pupils had yet become adjusted to the sudden exposure of the light intensity in the locale. The dim lighting of the unknown location too much on her eyes after having had her eyes closed and accustomed to the darkness of the back of her eyelids for so long. In the midst of allowing her pupils to adjust to the dim light, her expression hardened. Pure confusion and curiosity tugged at the angry features of her newly awoken countenance as her eyes bounced around the sights, intently scanning the unfamiliar room. A room her mind was not accustomed to, a sight her irises failed to recognize, a decently sized locale in which was foreign to what her mind had considered to be in the levels normalcy.

From laying on her stomach, she lifted her head instantaneously and cleaned her face of the drool it nurtured, still in its warm and liquidity, gravitating down the very side of her face and the sweat behind her neck with trembling hands. Eyes darted around the area, out the large windows, granting her full visuals of the lively New York on a Friday morning that falls heavily along her shoulders with eyes that scan along the flashing light reading brightly of four-forty-three. Ripping her eyes from the alarm clock, eyes merged slowly down at the physical makeup of her weighed down existence and finding herself scrutinizing the profound nakedness of its appearance. Clad in nothing more than panties, she fell deeper into a pit of melancholy and annoyance having worked up to a new day and it being a reality rather than the eternity of the Elysian Fields, or even the flame and fury of its vexatious kin. Florence exhaled, eyes slitted beneath the weight of her lackluster eyelids and their measly flutter along the eyes that venture upon the unsettling cleanliness and silence of the tranquil master bedroom, soon stumbling upon an indecipherable figure and inhaling sharply at the thought of being accompanied in a vulnerable moment. Her head began to pound alongside her heart, with all the thinking and all the discourse going on, all of it going through her head all at once, all of it simply too much for her to handle as she dropped her head back into the comfort of the pillow and began to weep softly to herself.

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