12. Thursday

In the middle of the night you wake up, sweating. There has been a bad dream. You open your eyes to see the dark ceiling up above. You can't see them stars scattered on the clear sky, probable clear sky. You hope it is a clear sky, cloudless and star filled. But now, there is this ceiling above, and that is all you can see. You got doubts in your mind. You are not sure if you are alive. Or dead. You do not know if the concrete surface you see there, there is the ceiling or the inner surface of your own grave. You do not remember anything, from the past or the present or future. You are not sure if you just woke up or if you are born here all over again - old and wrinkled, some dirty twist of fate. You close your eyes. You think it will change everything and set everything alright. You know for sure, that things are happening all around you. You are sure that something and somewhere and all around do exist. But you got doubts in your mind about your own existence. So you close your eyes tight and tighter, hoping it would change everything, and clear all your doubts off your mind. A mind clear and cloudless and star filled, like your clear and cloudless and star filled sky that you hope for. You are awake for a very long time and do not remember when you fall asleep again. You wake up in the morning with blood shot eyes and wonder what went wrong. You are almost happy, but for the irritation in your eyes.