Before falling asleep

The sound of the fan rotating above, by now, has dissolved in the noise of his head. The light of the table lamp is the same as the darkness outside, while the radio which stopped playing some ten minutes back is still playing or rather never played in his head. He is thinking deeply. Fighting with some idea in his head or maybe…trying to find one to fight with. Its a tough time, time when one desperately wants to create something, but what…one does`t know. It just lasts for a few hours or rather not more than half an hour, but even this short time seems like centuries, only condition which coagulates time(apart from one of waiting in anticipation).He is perfectly calm but yet so agitated. “Make something…what? Draw something…how? Do something, there is so much to do. But what to do from that “so much” he thought. He could have done many things, even he knew that, but still he could not do anything, weather it was due to the cold or abundance of choices, he did not know. His heart sank and a feeling of defeat came over him. A defeat. Simple defeat. He excepted it so easily. A defeat which you can`t fight back, because it`s a defeat without any aspect of victory in it. Suddenly he started thinking of something else, something more meaningless, about the causes of his defeat. Excepted defeat. He blamed everyone, including himself. He felt alone. He blamed it all on his imagined disability. He cried, blamed, cursed and then as if satisfied by this, he slept. He slept. Thinking nothing, with a table lamp still switched on, giving out every ounce of his energy just to help him give shape to something perfect…perfect in every sense, the fan above still rotated, making some sound, as if gone mad by the thought of seeing something…perfect, radio still stopped or rather waiting to know that he has created something…something perfect and his potentials were still waiting for him to take a step…an initiation leaving behind and muting the useless noises in his head. For all of them time has coagulated. Coagulated because of waiting, waiting from anticipation. A creation of which they all were a part. Waiting for him to wake up, to take a step without thinking or even trying to think, without excepting a defeat. They will wait, always wait, for they know that he is the only one to create what is inside him and no one else. They will always wait and maybe one day make him feel that he is not alone and there is a victory waiting for him.