Psychedelic Colours & Coarsened Soles, Lumbering In Darkness - Phychology Assignment Help

Assignment Task

miserable world.

I awoke from vivid dreams, to the reality of a miserable world. A faint white light through the crack in the window, the rustle of bed sheets, the abrasive feel of old slippers on time coarsened soles, lumbering in darkness across well-worn floors.

I hesitate and stare at the shadow reflected in the aged mirror above the corroded sink. So much less extensive than my memories, so deficient in life, I barely recognise the ambiguous, grey distortion that is myself. I stretch for an old cup and ran the rubber and the bristles through my fingers. A pale line of fluoride coats my gums, bubbling and foaming around delicate teeth for its first time, today. I watch the combination of white foam flow into the drain. Its job, over. Futile. My pj's sleeve picks up the residue of foam that developed around my mouth. I walk to the aged timber cupboard back within the bedroom.

The drawer squeaks, as I pull it nearer towards me, it is almost empty. Dull, bleak, dark, I search for the right pants. Where are they? I peek in the direction of the bathroom; they sit upon the dirtied white tiles of the bathroom amongst a disintegrated fabric pool. Dirty. I am obliged to wear the standard grey pants. The second drawer is pull out, a singular solitary moth flaps out, encircling in front of me, before vanishing into the distance. White. The only colour. I presume it will do. I disrobe, putting my arms through the tattered shirt, and pulling the pants over my fragile form. I look downwards staring at my naked feet. The shirt has a miniature hole, left at the bottom, I insert it into the pants so it cannot be noticed. I put on some socks, a hole for each large toe accommodates each side. The vacant spaces, the ceaseless gaps, all of which devour my life.

Breakfast, 2 pieces of scorched toast, no butter, parched and almost inedible. I look intently at a blank black screen; the gradual intake of the crust permits me to vanish into the abyss of the tv's obsidian reflection. The day-to-day routine, the monotonous life that consumes me, I eat inadequately but it pleasures on what is left of the life drive within me. It is all a brutal cycle and a relentless reminder. The recollections and this life of mine, it could all be erased away, removing a existence so effortlessly.

I revert to the bedroom and rest upon the bed with the already ragged clothes pushed against the bedsheets and my body, I am prepared, prepared for the new life I presumably could have. I close my fatigued eyes and drift off into a deep-rooted sleep. Light attracts close, behind my eyes, an array of psychedelic colours reaches me like my fantasies, and I feel at peace. I realise I would certainly not be the same and nor would I be residing in this miserable world.

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