Reflection.
I know coffee makes me anxious, and I don't usually have it at home. But sometimes winter makes me lazy, and I end up making it. It's 6:21 AM, and I am sitting next to my bedroom window with a scented candle and a cup of coffee. Lily is lying next to me. Winter is resting on my bed sheets, on my shelf, and on my pillows. The metal grills of my window are freezing cold, and I love to touch them. Dew drops are falling, I can hear the subtle sounds. My bedroom clock is ticking, 'tik tik tik tik tik,' and this feeling just makes me numb. It doesn't allow me to feel or to write. Every time I try to write, I have to bring each and every thought of mine to the surface, and these sounds don't allow me to concentrate. It's not a distraction; I may call it my lack of attention. And sometimes I feel unworthy of writing because I cannot be who I am pressuring myself to be, and I am not honest while typing. I am a chameleon, shifting and shedding layers of di...