The birds are singing. Blueish sunlight slowly seeps through the blinds. I have become statue, stiff as stone, cold as ice, upon the pedastol that is my desk and chair. The weight of my head and shoulders pull me further to the ground. I no longer will to move my body, I am simply an observer, an observer going blind. I can barely make out the words in front of me. My eyelids close briefly, then again, and then again, loosening my grip on comciousness. My vision flickers like a broken television screen. Abstract shapes of green and purple consume the world around me. Without thinking, my feet drag themselves across the floor over to my bed and I slip under the covers. The frost on my neck evaporates as I rest my head against the pillow. Blanketed by a sea of lava, the weight of my shoulders melts away and my back sinks deep into the mattress. Finally, I submit myself completely to the darkness.