The cycle continues anew

It's quiet. The air barely rustles as I crack the door. Strewn about the carpet are various bits of plastic and paper. In the corner, a pink lamp sits unlit by a blue laptop, it's lid festoon with stickers and professions of love for some thick eyebrow pop star.

Beneath the window a scooter sits neatly folded waiting a rider that is not expected anytime soon. The bed has only sheets, it's comforter folded neatly and placed beneath. In a corner stands flashes, an umbrella, and other signs that the occupant of this silent room shares a passion with another.

It's going to be a while before I can collect myself enough to put into words all that was for the one month where I wasn't the miserable, sullen bastard that I usually am. Sadly, now, it's back to the status quo.