Observations of Environment I

The last drops of tea slowly turn cold in the artificially cooled air of my room. I can anticipate the bitter tannin taste this will have when I drink it, more tea in it than milk and sugar now. The cup sits silently on the wooden table. I hear the sonds of a game and typing in the background. My diary is balanced across my knees. My stomach is churning from the cold tea. It's been sitting here all afternoon, and all evening. It's dark. All lights are off save a small black desk lamp, which happens to be from Ikea. I am currently seated on a small blue plastic chair, which is more suited for a child than a person of my size. It's been in my family since I was small enough to use it, and I remember using it as a tool of violence against my siblings when we fought. I've long grown out of that. I've got plenty to do. Even with this feeling of restlessness, I've achieved everything and nothing. Nothing being something that's socially significant. Everything being something that's personally significant. Of course the two do cross at certain points, but it's easier to say "everything and nothing". Though, it's more like "everything and nothing and sometimes in between" which has a kind of rhythm to it. It's like at school, where I know everyone and no one. And sometimes, in between.