Lee Midam//Social Casualty

{7}

Waking up with time on your hands kind of sucks, Midam realizes.

When it was middle of the week it wasn't a problem. Midam woke up and knew exactly what he was doing that day. Now he wakes up before the sun has even come close to reaching the horizon, and is left to wonder why he can't seem to sleep.

The mattress is perfectly comfortable and he can feel the lack of sleep weighing down on his limbs, but when it comes to trying to fall asleep it's like an uphill battles.

Sometimes Midam wonders if it became quiet enough around him, whether others would be able to hear the whining of his brain as it refused to settle and rest.

How he wished he was somewhere, where you could hear the sound of the softest ocean and light breeze, but he doesn't think he'd be able to sleep at all if it was completely silent either.

Not after years of living in a city that never sleeps.

The loud sound of his phone letting out an annoying sound which noted him that there was a person who actually cared about him made Midam groan loudly. But more he thought about it the more he was certain that it was just his manager.

Last night he was so tired that he was just sleeping with a white shirt on since he couldn't ever be bothered putting his pajamas on since it took him annoyingly long time to take off his pants at first place.

After a while of debating in his head be finally opened his brown eyes. It was brighter than usual in his room, damn if he could he'd wake up this early every day just to see this. Midam finally felt as if he was in a different world, very very far away.

Everyone is running but why am I the only one still here?
If only I had a dream

He could clearly see the small spects of dust running around his room, flying and creating a nearly invisible cloud.

They say you'll fully bloom after all these hardships
'Everything is going to be alright if you go to university and do as we tell you'

It really is a bitch, not to have something you want to do. Not to have a dream. And sometimes we just want to turn in those frying dust, having all time in our hands, no worries and no regrets.

That's right, I live because I can't die.

People around me tell me to regain my consciousness but every day I'm scared to open my eyes and start breathing

I feel anxious as time passes by

It feels like I'm all by myself

I hope things disappears like when I'm alone

I hope things disappear

I hope I'll disappear