Surface

I remembered waking up numb, my eyes burned closed. I lost my soul to the blazing star in the sky. When night came down it did little to ease me. The moon was almost brighter in its white sterility.

                                                why do I write like this?

People walked around me, ignoring me. Why don’t they care? They refused to look, refused to acknowledge. I curled into a ball. My ennui is renewed in the font of fear

What is that meant to mean? So very… whiny                                 

I realised that I was walking, more like staggering, down the street. I run into strangers; everyone is a stranger up here. I cannot see. I fell, down into some sort of alleyway. I felt myself rising up and a realisation reached me.

Then I was pulled physically to my feet, and a many folded piece of paper was thrust into my hand. I fell back into the alley again.

I managed to open my eyes and started to lose myself in the marks that criss-crossed the paper.