10 minutes of my pen and thoughts- its mystery

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Blank.

Dot.

Gray.

Bizaare.

imageThis person’s brain is just not working. Thought process, check. Ideas, check. The person wiggled his hands, physically- yes, physically working.

imageHe checked his soul, it wasn’t there. He stared for a bit on his physique in front of the unclear mirror, but found his soul astray.

The lights pierced on the transparent skin, it was fragile. He sat down on the sofa and stared at the ceiling, again, thought process- check. Heart, half beating.

He was breathing, only that it was weirdly unhuman. His brain was lost somewhere in another world, a kind that doesn’t exist or can never be a reality. His ears did its job when the rain fell on the roof and he was back on his trance, lights passing by at great speed in horizontal blurry lines.

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I was facing the mirror again, it was a familiar feeling.

 

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