Where am I? I can’t see clearly. What is it? Im in my own head I suppose, that is what comes first in my mind or maybe i’m dreaming? All I know is that i’m some where with fresh air and it’s warm but not too warm and not too cold, just perfect. Like I was at picnic with someone but without that someone, all by myself. As I was at a field, hearing the breeze of the wind and feeling the perfect temperature on my skin. It’s strange this feeling. I can’t still recognize where I am but the feeling is amazing as I would have the best vascular pump of my life. But now I know what it is, i’m dreaming but not sleeping i’m inside of my conciousness fully dreaming. It’s amazing the field, the feeling, the breeze. And slowly but surely I now know where I am, i’m still in my bed, I never left it just felt like it.
As I sit on my chair in my room, the first thing that fills my mind is the irritating high-pitched sound from the washing machine next door. I try to ignore it, and I hear my cheap plastic clock on my wall, ticking steadily and calmly. The thing has worked reliably for several years – I’m surprised it hasn’t broken down yet. Behind the howl of the wind, I can hear a car passing by our house. It’s probably driving over the speed limit, the noise of the engine is loud.
First thing I smell and taste is the noodles I just had a few minutes ago. They are a decent little snack – vegetable flavor is the best. I can still taste the spices in my mouth. I think I have something stuck between my teeth. I can also kind of smell the dust under my desk, I should probably vacuum more often.
In addition to the noodles, I can still taste the coffee I just had. For some weird reason, I like my coffee black. I sometimes add milk, but never sugar, it spoils the drink in my opinion.
I feel my trusty chair I’m sitting on. It is kind of hard, but comfy. I wouldn’t change my chair for anything else – I love it, and I’ve used it for many years. The back of the chair is rough, it feels satisfying to rub your back on it. I touch my desk – its surface feels rough too. To be honest, I would like a new desk. A wooden one would probably feel and look nicer than this metal and plywood thing covered with some strange plastic.
My cold room. It’s always like a refridgerator. I can feel the soft pillows under my head. I have a lot of cushions to share with everybody. My warm blanket helps me fight the coldness of my room and maybe even my heart. But when my room is filled with people, the cold disappears.
There is usually more people in my room. All the different smells can prove it. There was a birthday party. I can smell the sweet scent of cake and the soda that was spilled to the carpet. There is also a different kind of smell, a stink actually. I know it’s from the other side of the room where my bunny lives.
When I’m alone, my room is very quiet. The only sounds I can hear is the bunny fluttering about in her little cage and the air conditioning humming in my ears. I can hear my mother’s voice from downstairs which travels all the way to my room by the pipes. Now the dogs are barking, somebody is at the door. Soon my room isn’t cold and soundless anymore.
Woods. That is what the room feels like. It is an isolated cottage up in the north and a walk amongst the trees. It is a small, comforting piece of nature, a safe haven.
When you step in the room, the very first thing that greets you on the door is the overwhelming smell of the sheep hide. It wraps around you and invites you to move closer to its warmth. You walk past the room, listening to the creaking sound of the oak floor beneath your feet, and sink your fingers to the rough, thick fur, getting them entangled in the long curls of it.
If you have the patience and time to stand still for long enough, the smell of sheep fades and you start noticing all the other things. From the slightly opened window, you can hear the soft howling of the wind as it brushes through the nearby spruces. The cold breeze brings the familiar smell of smoke in the room. It fills every inch of it, making it feel as if you had just blown out hundreds of candles. When turning your head to the right, you can smell the distinctive scent of worn-out, brown-paged books. If you run your fingers past them, you can feel the broken spines, crinkled pages and dog-eared corners.
You are filled with unexplainable happiness as you walk around the small space and drag your fingers across everything your hands can reach. There is the old, pine-made bookshelf covered in uneven spots and splinters, smooth surface of the polished birch bed, unsteady ladders that still carry the faint smell of stain and a small plant with a moist mold and hanging leaves.
The room feels like its own world. It is rustic, unfinished and rough. But in the end, it is exactly how I want it to be. It makes me feel as if I’m sitting in the safeness of trees, far away from the problems of the noisy and busy street below me.
When you go into my room you will first realize this good smell of fresh air, perfume and fresh washed laundry. These smell is really soothing. After that you will see light of the bright shining sun which is shining into my room from my big window. After that you will see my big and white cupboard of the right sight next to my TV. When take a step into my room you will see my sort equipment. It is a bike with which you drive at home. After a few more steps you will see my desk with a little two-story shelf above my desk. In front of my desk is my white bed.
My bed is so soft and really comfortable. When I lay on my bed I feel like that I am somewhere else. Somewhere where it is peaceful and nice like in another world. It is like a dream world.
Sometimes when my grandmother cooks the whole big apartment smells and taste like her food which she is cooking in that moment. Especially my because it is one of the closest rooms to the kitchen. I like that really. It is like a little paradise created with everything that I like. My little paradise.
When you step out of the school and walk down the stairs,you will see it in front of you.There is often quiet when you stand on there. You will see the vehicles on the road and see the train which will pass on the other side of the street, you will hear the humming of trees and the wind blowing and then weather becomes colder. you see the people who chatter on there and the pedestrians who walk past, someone with good and someone with awful fragrance. There is sometimes someone with pram and crying kids also. You can breathe in the fresh air and enjoy it when there is no one who smoke. When the bus is coming you can see people who run too fast and their jackets scrubbing with their backpacks and someone yelling others to come faster.
I float around like a feather. I don’t touch anything, hear anything I just lay here peacefully without any sense of my surroundings. I can feel that I’m moving. I don’t know how fast I’m moving and I’m too afraid to look yet. I am bit scared of what’s surrounding me, but the senseless feeling tempts me to carry on.
Suddenly I feel a slight breeze against my body, it’s cool but pleasant. I can also feel that the temperature has got colder. The space I’m in isn’t that pleasant anymore. The quietness and peace I was in is all gone, so I’m beginning to feel anxious and more scared of the situation, which isn’t just my surroundings anymore it’s also the senseless feeling. I begin to feel stressed, so I panic. I decide to open my eyes.
I see the stars and the planets. It’s nothing I’ve seen before. It’s absolutely stunning. I feel like I’m so close to everything but it’s probably because of the size of the objects, that are actually so far away that i feel like an ant next to them. I feel alive. My surroundings have amazed me and I’m kind of disappointed of myself for not opening my eyes earlier. I feel calm and peaceful again so I close my eyes and return to my consciousness.
I have always been scornful of human vision, its limitations. But I’ve never felt so betrayed by my eyesight as I do now. Surrounded by a thousand shades of black interrupted by glowing, light opal stars, I try to make myself see through the gloomy veil I’m wrapped in. I squint without result. I feel the humane need to set limits to the space I’m in. I can’t process the thought of this having no end — of the emptiness I am failing to see continuing forever. It troubles me how little I know, in a place bigger than imagination, in a space so big it never, ever ends.
I can hear my blood in my ears in dead silence. In no gravity, I can smell a mix of gun powder and iron. There’s no air, no breeze, everything is eerily calm and eternal. I let a voiceless laugh out when my thoughts wander to high pitched ambient space music and green aliens with elongated skulls. A strand of my hair flows against my shoulder, interrupting my amusement. It reminds me of the way my hair moves underwater, serenely and carelessly.
I’m not sure whether I’m upside down or sideways, although it doesn’t make a difference here. I stretch my fingers, one by one, in front of my face. I am able to move my body slowly but effortlessly. Moving feels different; my fingers touch something soft but steady when they move, they disturb the lack of abrupt movement.
I glance behind me on a whim, at a scene that looks nothing like the previous ones. There are no calm shades, no twinkly stars, but a luminous nebula that has taken over an enormous bite of the black. Tyrian purple stardust mixed with shades of dark, aegean blue and gold has taken over. It doesn’t move quickly, but its light edges shift slowly. I feel pain in my eyes due to exposure to unreal brightness, covering my face in hopes of relief.
I haltingly open my eyes after keeping them closed. Thankfully, the radiance has disappeared, but it’s now been replaced with a strange, uncomfortable darkness. I feel cold, but not the kind of cold I’m familiar with. A permanent cold that feels still and heavy. Even the silence is different than before; it has gone from calm to sad and gained palpable loneliness. Time doesn’t exist, there is no day or night.
Unable to take a deep breath of fresh air, I unintentionally close my eyes. I don’t know if it’s the frigidity or the darkness, but I feel the tiredness inducing me to fall asleep. I sense drowsy dreams taking over me while floating in unknown galaxies full of crisp secrets, for who knows how long a time.
Howling wind pushing against the glass window. Leaves falling off of trees. This soothing sound is to make anyone fall asleep in an instant, yet there were still deep sighs of frustration to be heard. It must be the pizza box from yesterday, which was still emitting the sweet scent of cheese straight up his nostrils. Was it from yesterday, or a week ago? Despite it, a soft pillow and warm blanket keep him locked in their tight grip, simultaneously protecting from the biting coldness outside. Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the people. Some of the wind pushes through an old window which couldn’t be properly closed. It also could be the not overly loud – yet still distracting computer fan that retains him awake at this late hour. At least there is someone left who understands him. Soft meowing can also be heard from behind the door, as Skippy is looking for a warm place to sleep, preferably at someone’s legs. She could meow and scratch the door all she wanted, he had already learned not to let her in. Alone, that is what he wants to be.
He had lived in this house for a while already, but he still hadn’t gotten used to the loudness of the footsteps that are heard from outside, especially in the winter. It’s the dark that does this. Even now there was a pair of boots stomping against the snowy ground. The boots won’t come to see him. Most nights he would put on music from his tiny speaker to help him sleep. It makes him strong. This night he chose not to listen to Rammstein while trying to sleep, and he actually enjoyed the calm and peace. He hates this. His own sanctuary, an asylum no one can snatch from him. One wish, one smile, one tear. Disturbed by a ringing doorbell, he was sure of it. This wasn’t just any night.
I lay on my bed. The counterpane feels a bit rough against my arms and elbows as I lean back on the pillows piled against the wall. I rest my head on the softest one I bought last summer. I don’t do anything specific, just lay down and relax. I can hear the large clock ticking on the opposite wall next to the window, and the soft, quiet hum of my PlayStation as it downloads a software update in the rest-mode. I can still smell the cologne I applied this morning hanging in the air mixed with the very distinct aroma of dirty socks, creating a strange combination of scents. My mom and stepdad are watching ”Friends” reruns in the other room, but I can’t make out more than the laugh track and the occasional word spoken more loudly than the others, the rest of it is incoherent mumbling to me.
I get up from my bed and step over to my window. I feel the cold radiating from it and as I close my eyes, I imagine I’m standing on the edge of a great mountaintop and looking down into a snowy valley. My stepdad’s burst into laughter interrupts my imagining. I accidentally kick a blue Ikea bag full of empty Coca Cola bottles I’ve been too lazy to take to the store. They had turned into quite a hoard, making a huge racket crashing into one another, almost echoing in the small room. I gait over the bag awkwardly, then sit back down on my bed. The bed’s springs creak under my unevenly distributed weight. I lean back against the fall, flinching slightly at the cold at my uncovered neck. I like the fact that even though the walls are cold as ice, our heater keeps the air warm, even if a bit dry. I close my eyes again and as if answering a question from an unknown entity I whisper, ”This is where I sleep.”
Sorry, I tried but couldn’t get a proper picture of my room. After ten attempts from several different angels, I decided to just give up.
I am in the classroom. I am sitting in an uncomfortable chair and leaning on my desk. The legs of the desk are uneven. Annoying. The desk feels cold. Even colder than the air. The school is always cold. I touch the radiator to see if it’s even on. It’s burning hot. Odd. I move a bit closer to the radiator but I avoid touching it. Now it feels warm. Now that I don’t feel cold anymore I notice that the air feels dry. It’s making me thirsty.
The class room usually smells like books. At the moment it smells like oranges. Someone behind me is probably eating an orange. I can hear someone speaking french. It’s coming from the classroom next to ours. Sounds like its coming from a tape. They are probably listening to a chapter from the textbook. In the distance, I can also hear the ping pong ball bouncing on the table back and forth. I think our teacher is talking too. I haven’t really been paying attention to him.