It has been a week already. When I opened my eyes the next morning, it was dark and the whole apartment was wrapped in a cloak of silence. I did not know how much time passed. The darkness seemed to have been present for a long time. Even after all this time, I can still remember details, such as when I bought the milk I milked and the store at which we bought the milk, the time at which we milked the milk and the day. The facial expression of the milk delivery woman seemed to be a bitter taste in my mouth. But, I learned something. Even when I felt that the time had passed slowly, there were some hours of bliss. Perhaps it was a form of pre-time. Most likely, it was actual, reality. It was a feeling of reality that was gloomy, but was unknown. But, I could not bear the pre-time anymore. In the early hours, I just cried like a baby. After the pre-time, I would cry, but, I could not cry forever. Then, it would become a dreary week.
Even this week, I did not know that the week was over, but I knew that the time had passed. In the morning, I woke up, but there was still darkness. The darkness seemed to be present forever. The night urged me to sleep even more. In the evening, I drank warm milk with sugar. I felt the warmth of the milk and I looked at the fragrance of the milk and I was abandoned by the warm milk. I wanted to stay there forever, I wanted to become a drop of warm milk. Before that happened, I cried.
When I woke up today, the darkness had disappeared. The morning of this day was bright and cheerful. Perhaps, I had seen darkness, but it made me even more gloomy. I wanted to cry, but, there came my mother's gentle words, and clung to me. The familiarity of my mother's voice calmed me. In this world, my mother's gentleness was the only thing that was warm, soft and nice to my ears. My mother was not like my father. I was still lonesome and in the mood for weeping. But, a strange and innocent voice placed my hand. I did not know who it was, but she was not my mother. I still had not made the realization. The voice was too happy. Yet, the voice did not hurt me. However, the voice was very annoying to me. I just wanted to cry or sleep. There was no way to get rid of it. It was nothing, just a happy voice. It was just a voice. There was no way for me to subdue it. I did not know what to do. Suddenly, I lost myself. I was uneasy and felt like crying. I burst out crying, the voice was extinguished and a new sound greeted me. I stopped crying. My mother hugged me. "My son, you gotta thank God and the Almighty who gave you another day."
After crying, I felt as if a burden was lifted from my chest, and I felt like there was more hope and light in my chest. I did not need to cry. I was happy, but, I was crying because I did not know what to do. Suddenly, I felt an unusual sense of lightness. I did not know why, but I felt the lightness again. I looked at the clock, but, I did not see that there was one. I just blinked. I did not know that it was a day. It was a day without anxiety. More, it was a day without anxiety, without sadness, without anger. In addition, I did not feel like I had no hope. I felt like I had too much hope. I just felt insanely happy. But, I was not sad. I was not sad at all. However, I was not happy. It was like a metallic taste. I wanted to describe it, but did not know how to describe it.