Tiny Clicks. · 7:16am Dec 11th, 2013
He sits within his room as he moves from key to key, typing up a brief sentence. The constant taps of the keys are the only sounds that echo through the dead silence of the night as a young man contemplates his thoughts. Over and over, he casts his previous thoughts out into the vast darkness with a single click of the backspace, trying to entertain those who would read his writings. Everything is as it should be, his mind still burning with energy as to which he does not possess, a lit cigarette clenched within his right hand between the pointer and middle finger. The bags underneath his eyes constantly present, well rested or not. Thoughts loom and linger throughout the scattered, battered and tattered remains of the brain as it pulsates with countless possibilities, driving him slowly into madness. The thoughts grow dark, and his train of thought de-rails as horrible manifestations assume control over his mind. He sits, staring at the work before him and his eyes grow weary, but the body seeks not rest, but to entertain. Tiny clicks, deafening echoes. He types to entertain, and his body won’t rest till they are. Countless hours, numerous days, and infinite years stretch before his eyes. Not of this world, but of others. Worlds built by a simple thought, which progresses into fabrications, to blueprints, and finally finding its foundations built within complexing multi-verses within his own mind. And so he sits, the light tapping of keys being the only comforting sound he’s known.
All I do, is seek to entertain.
Keep it cool, Condemned.
