Catch your Glows

It was a very long stressful week, full of events. Some were good, some were bad, and others couldn't be understood.

Work, client meetings, course attendance, preparations of packages that are due at the second job, and other fast and various issues to be handled at once...Reports, assignments, and presentations are to be done. All that with a long to-do list, that still not finished yet with so many checkpoints waiting for their turn to be

From issues at work, then going to the grocery store and some formal clothes for an important meeting tomorrow morning. Finally, she went back home where she met a huge mess, its details racing each other to welcome her home safely and sound. She started cleaning, took a shower, and then headed straight to the bed letting a long sigh go, expressing how tiring and tough her day was.

With all the means that suited her to fall deeply into a long sleep but something inside herself wouldn't let her do so. She is tired, stressed, and out of her breath to the point she can't see her hands.

A battle of thoughts has welcomed itself forcefully in her mind, doubting her own existence:

"Why am I doing this? Why did I leave everything and go for it? What's the point of all these exhausts and efforts that don't flourish in the end? Am I able to make it? Am I able to be the person I want? Am I?"

"All the people around me are moving forward and I am at the same step. I am nothing but a shame, a loser you can find. I don't know what I want. I am NOTHING and I don't have ANYTHING to be something."

Lots of thoughts pumped into her head and they started fighting each other, making a sound like the war battle swords and their heat increased like the volcano lava. She tried to cover her head with the pillow as if she is dumping down those sounds. She put her hands on her ears to shut the noise but nothing could help. Those thoughts keep growing and growing as if they would swallow her in their deep abyss. She felt as if the room is getting smaller and had hands pressing strongly on her throat. The amount of breath is becoming less and the feeling of being suffocated and choked felt welcome to join the night. She wanted to escape and found that her only savior is her room's window.

It was a large window with seating, attached to the wall that covers the area from its end till the ground, which is soft-pillowed and comfy to sit in. The view of the window and the seating look like the same architect of the old houses in London, like the one you observe when watching Wendy sitting down waiting for Peter Pan's comeback. Unlike Wendy, who was waiting for her old friend, she went to the window as her last resort as if she wanted to be rescued from drowning and have the feeling of the air invading her lungs, pushing her to escape from this endless maze. She opened the window which flowed a lovely cool breeze into the room calming the tension inside as if a volcano has met its suppression after a heated eruption leaving nothing behind but black ashes from its lava and darkness filling the corners.

Nothing broke the dark silence except a huge sigh, she let it go seemed like smoke coming out from the fire-walled maze's conflict in her mind, followed by teary eyes that show how stressful and painful she is feeling. What goes in her mind, can be described as a scene of the black calm atmosphere after a deadly rough war where only empty bullets, ashes of powder and burnt houses, and grey smoke are the only observed.

She placed herself on the seating with a light jump to sit and rested her chin on one of her arms that found their place on the bottom edge of the window. While the other arm was swinging with the breeze of the air, which in return played with the tufts of her hair, making them sway with its flow. The whole atmosphere made her eyes partially open, looking at the buildings surrounding her from both sides as if she entered another closed but bigger maze. Her eyes kept looking back and forth as if they were looking for an end of a tunnel to survive. While she looked at the windows from the other buildings around thinking about their owners whether they were happy with their lives, whether they were hating it, whether they fitted in their own stories, or like her, looking for a way to hop out. She let go of another sigh followed by a couple of questions in a low whispering tone of voice as if they were fighting each other to get out from the war inside her mind: