my perfectly cylindrical lamp

there's something about my lamp. its cylindrical shape. its light. i think i like my lamp. it's warm and cylindrical and fits perfectly on my desk. a bit too big, perhaps? or maybe not big enough, i can never truly tell its size. i think i dislike my lamp. but it will do, for now.

i haven't cleaned in my apartment in a week. it's been months since i hoovered and i don't think i've ever cleaned the dishes since i moved in here. i just take the bottom one out of the sink and use it. and after i'm done eating i put it at the top of the pile and promise myself i will do them later. maybe next year. although, i do have that dentist appointment next year. i think i might have to reschedule the dishes, then.

i am often embarrassed by myself. the layer of dust on the floor and the desk and even my perfectly cylindrical and dreadful lamp reminds me of my virtues. i'm too tired to clean, but i'm too energetic to go to bed. i sit on my chair, looking at my (cylindrical) lamp on my desk and tell myself i will go to bed soon. when the birds will rise and when the sun will start chirping, then i will go to bed. i also promise myself i will fix my sleep schedule soon. so that i won't feel so tired to clean but won't feel too energetic to go to bed.

there really is something about my lamp. not just its shape or its size (too big, definitely too big). there's something... more about it. something appealing and disgusting and something that is not perfectly cylindrical. it's not the bulb inside it, i've checked it twice already. and it's not the switch nor the cord nor the little bug's corpse that i still haven't removed when it died a week ago. there's something inside the lamp, but there's nothing there. other than the light bulb.

i remember when i was a child. i would sleep with my lamp and i would embrace its warmth and light in the darkness of the night. i felt warm, back then. these days i always feel cold. the central heating here doesn't work properly and i promise myself i will dress in warmer clothes, but for now i sit at my desk and shiver. and i've outgrown the lamp and its heat, i think. now, it's just a radiant bulbous glow that sits here and lights up my room but no more than that. so it's definitely too small. at least that's settled.

i remember the first time i went to school with my lamp. it was perfectly cylindrical even back then, as were my perfectly cylindrical grades and the perfectly cylindrical glasses that i wore. nowadays the glasses don't help that much. my eyes get sore and tired and it's difficult for me to read from my computer screen. so i zoom in, as much as my computer allows me to. i increase the font and sit closer to the radiant screen. i promise myself i will get new glasses soon. after i finish fixing my sleep schedule and my teeth and doing the dishes and dusting the room. and figuring out what is wrong with my lamp.

i often get the urge to break the lamp. i would never dare do it but the thought visits me every so often. more often these days than it used to. i used to be proud of the lamp's perfectly cylindrical body but it annoys me now more than anything. it laughs at me with its perfectly smooth and cylindrical face, it blurs its edges at me when i look at it. my grades aren't perfectly cylindrical nowadays. neither are my glasses. nor my lamp, it seems, even though it really is cylindrical. and too big for me. i've never felt at home with my lamp.

it was hard moving away from my family. at least i had my lamp but now it's too painful to look at. i want to go back home but i'm not sure where it is now. i used to think that home was where my lamp was. and here it is, on my desk that is too big for it. i'm not sure how to go back either. i think there's no way back but i don't want to go forward. not without my perfectly cylindrical lamp that i hate. i love it but it's too unbearable to look at.

i promise i will go to bed soon. once i'm finished looking at my (perfectly) cylindrical lamp.