The bed is a very personal space. And light, too. One's choice of light can actually say a lot about the person. My roommate, for example, has no light (of her choice) at the moment because she (this is based entirely on my conjecture) has no time to revisit CVS for a new lightbulb. She needs that time to catch up on her sleep, or to study. Needs seem to outweigh the wants in her life.

It is a mysterious relationship, rooming with someone. You are let into the most intimate details of her life and yet you can go days without knowing anything about the person. Like this morning, when I happened to be up at 5:45 in the morning and my roommate quietly crept into the room from god-knows-where. Where have you been? I wanted to spring up, take her by surprise, and demand to know. Not for any other reason. Just curiosity. But I didn't; I lay, my back to her, secretly fondling the touchscreen of my phone, in hopes of avoiding any awkwardness that the odd hour suggested. She is now fast asleep and her alarm is ringing, as are the questions in my head. Maybe I should just have asked.


Postscript: I seem to have a billion folders on my laptop containing random pictures like these. I hope, though many years too late, I am putting them to good use. The first picture attached above is actually circa 2007 (to me anyway), when I had often surfed the net searching for some metaphorical escapism.

Guichanaso.