Chapter 1 - Average, What the Intolerable Word
Friday morning, a quarter past ten, i was awake, and alone in my room, and with just a tad of inspiration. I would have rather woken in a more peaceful manner, but the cool sweats and underneath the heat from my coverings is what I was given, setting my tone for the day, and although I would’ve rather had awakened in a comfortable position, possibly one that wouldn’t fatigue my back, and cradled in the warm embrace of those covers, and blankets that carry me so, and off to the subconscious would I then be taken. those cold sweats were those of a post-nightmare experiences, and I knew as well as I should that what had been conjured by the subdued part of the warm, protected, and inspired piece of muscles tissues and neurons, enough to feel the constant clicking of my keyboard. “Click, clickity, click.” the sound didn’t bother bother as much as you’d expect it would, being so focused on those noising would’ve driven even the most sane man mad, just a thought to keep in mind.