Milieu Euphony (In Act Series #2)

Phase 8

PHASE EIGHT

A SCULPTOR FOR HIMSELF

I had no intention of staying, but the fleeting thin, white curtain caged me—it was the calming one, not constricting, that's why I was uncertain whether I should stay and relax.

You can, Lael. Stop being too hard on yourself.

But how could I when the only thing that filled my mind was to continue and never stop?

I closed the window before I slumped on my bed. However, the circular light on the white ceiling was still there no matter how hard I'd try. It was a guiding light—a beacon—to illuminate the hidden marks on the ceiling that only I could see.

There was a map on the blank space—an opportunity on closed doors—and with courage and keen eyes, it was up to the adventure whether to tread the mysterious path or not.

But that's what adventurers are known for—people who always treaded unfamiliar paths. Ones who put themselves at risks. Ones who preferred danger rather than safety. Known for, but always are in danger for.

That's why journeying—and never staying—was a risk. I knew of it, but I didn't bother myself about its consequences. It was too time-consuming—caging—that's why I hid it under a figure of transience.

I just had to master this then I could move on.

And so, the wanderer, there I was.

Eventually, it put me off my path. And maybe, it was the reason why I had been hard on myself because I kept on trying to get on track.

I just had to hold onto it as much as I could.

I retreated my outstretched hand and arm towards the ceiling before I pulled myself off the bed. I snickered when I looked around.

Contrary to the heavily French-inspired aesthetics in the main building and other establishments, the dorm room had a modern touch to it—which was a breather for me. It had white walls and light brown wooden floors. It's spacious to accommodate two single beds, two medium-sized study tables and wardrobes, and a few more spaces to move around.

But I couldn't do any sculpture-related work in this place. It would be messy, and I don't appreciate making my quarters messy. That's why I opt to work on and finish my projects in rooms that accommodate them.

My roommate, on the other hand, was able to do her things at ease. She was Janica Yang, a Filipino-Taiwanese Visual Communication student. She had long, black hair, chinky eyes, and had high cheekbones. She stood tall and had a lean body.

She was a freelance model which is why she's not always here.

I was fine with it. I could have the room all to myself.

But she was not a bad roommate, rather, she was nice and easy to talk with. Hindi ko lang talaga magawang makipag-close sa kan'ya dahil magkaiba kami ng interes.

I think she's fine with that, too, and she's not always around, but we were acquainted with each other.

Her side of the bed was nice. It was minimalist—brown color scheme and had high fashion-inspired designs. While I stick to the simple, white design of my bedsheets and less clutter on my desk.

White—probably my desperate attempt to immerse myself in marble.

I was okay with that—as if I was trying to "inspire" myself from the idea that the real sculptors had in their journey. Like trying to take a tip from the experienced ones.