Cornerless Room
The lights are always on, but I never noticed until now
I only ever focused on the “edges” of the room that I am in
But there aren’t any “edges” and the room completely wraps around without a seam in sight
There are no walls, just one large rounded enclosure that looks like what a room is supposed to look like
But the corners I’ve become so fond of in other rooms are missing.
I spend so much time inspecting the wall and looking for a corner, a small crease or any indentation that will allow me to have a moment of escape
A private moment of solitude, a break from the chaos of the circular space I find myself in
I told myself I would stay here until the time stopped. And I refuse to quit.
I can’t quit now. I’ve come too far and this is the last room until the freedom I think I’ve been promised
I’m here in the room alone, but there are others present. I don’t really know what they look like but I don’t see any familiar reflections, only bits and pieces of me that I recognize
Never the whole picture of me. I have to keep reminding myself of who I am.
The only way I can do so is to confront each of the room inhabits to see what reflections feel like what I think I am. Nothing is all that complete.
It’s something of a Rubik’s Cube trying to get all of one side to be the same color only to have the other faces go out of sync
I am exhausted and just want to close my eyes. But I’m so used to closing my eyes facing a corner, fearful of showing vulnerability by sleeping facing the crowd
The lighting in the room distorts my vision and what appears to be corners are just illusions.
My frustration grows. I want to sleep. I need to recharge in order to keep going in this room.
The timer is almost up and I watch it with impatience, knowing I have full control and will to leave at any moment.
I have to stay, I’m so close. My dream is almost complete if I can just hold out a little bit longer.
The anxiety builds the closer I get to finishing. I can’t wait to find the nearest corner as soon as I flee this room.