Morning Glory (standard:mystery, 1034 words)
Author: Freya Griffin	Added: Oct 07 2002	Views/Reads: 3704/2310	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
When the morning breaks, your braincells ignites bigger questions about the universe

I opened my eyes and it took about a minute to realized where i was.
Where else would i be but in my room? I reached for the curtain to take 
a peek on the world outside. The morning glories were blooming happily 
as the sky brighten. The sun wasn't visible just yet but i'm sure it's 
gonna shines brightly atop the uneven lines of roofs, forcing the 
universe to stirr and re-animate. Another day. Another boredom. I hate 
it. I hate to have to wake up each time. As usual i took my time to 
deliberately waking up late. I laid in bed motionless, ceiling-staring, 
thinking of random things. Sometimes the random thinking hit my soft 
spot. A plan for the day, assignments, problems i left unsolved the 
other day. And it gave me such a bad mood that i sometimes wished i 
could just stop thinking. Stop living. I know i was running away. And i 
ran away from running away. And i never get to the end of anything. I 
stayed  put. 

Wouldn't it be nice to just frozen time and meanwhile, fixed everything
and then as the time melted and went on the cheerful usual way. I'm 
back to the happy me. The problem-free me. But ofcourse, i was running 
away. I tried to think of happy things but my memory gave up on me. 

I must be depressed, my brain murmured quietly. In some distance i could
hear the whole house had beginning to wake up. My housemates pacing up 
and down the stairs and back and forth the bathroom upstairs. I am 
depressed, some frail voice in my head claimed. I stayed still. 

But how can i be depressed? Depression is for people who had loads of
responsibilities to do. The stacking tasks and documents routine. The 
traffic and the meetings and the late night working. I knew for sure i 
wasn't any of those. I live day by day lazily, busily escaping 
realities, problems unsolved, questions unanswered. Depression is 
definitely not it. I don't deserve such mentally dramatic explanation. 
I'm just lazy. Yeah, that must be it. I'm just a lazy coward. 

You are depressed you know, and even now you're running away from it.
The irritable voices chirping in my head. 

Whatever. 

I stared at the ceiling thinking about random things. Regretting on why
i had become the gigantic slug i was. Routing some choices i made in 
the earlier years, that might be responsible for making me such a 
hideous lump of laziness i was then. 

I should join the cheerleader squad in highschool. Instead of the
basketball team. I would have a whole different sets of friends. 
Different situations, different ways of thinkings. Dated different 
boys. Hanging out at different places. Parties, clubs, more parties, 
the disco. 

I don't like the noise, so most probably i wouldn't go most of the
times. No matter with who you hang out with, you would never be able to 
change the real you. If i were to do it allover again, i would still be 
the geekish computer games freak who hangs out with other geeks. 

My subconscience is very smart. It always argues myself that would make
me lost in the middle of it, all the time. I think most people would 
agree if someone would came out with a magical device that would able 
you to turn off your subconscience whenever you want to, at any time. 

That would make all people in the world psychopats. 

And the world would finally be normal! Like they say, it depends on the
environments really. For example; you weighed 120 pounds, eventhough 
it's actually normal since you're about, let's say 5ft6, but all the 
girls around you are very very very skinny and the biggest size for 
clothings would be a size ten, and they don't eat nothing but carrots 
and cabbages (oh my god, this 100 grams of pizza, contains enough fat 
to last us until like ten years from now! DUH!). In that society my 
dearest friend, you will be nothing but a swelling elephant, an 
outcast, a monster. But when you, in the same physical condition, be 
living in Somalia, men would be allover you. They would think you're 
Maryln Monroe. The sexiest being in the whole planet. They hardly eat 
anything in Somalia (not because they're on a diet, they simply don't 
have the food) and therefore, it's beautiful that you're healthy and 
weighed normal. Likewise, a world where all the inhabitants are 


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