an unlit room

instrumental pumping the darkness creating something more vibrant than the red number flashing on the glare of my lenses. the bassline bumping harder than my cell phone's vib tone. the only light in the room is the laptop aura haunting the southwest corner. a boy nods his head to the bump and rhythm of the notes as they hit higher than his hopes. the scent of the incense closes his eyes for him as he drifts in and out of dreamstate existence. existing only in the dreamstate causes the hunger rumbling in his empty stomach to drift from his mind. change it up. the new vibe is a slow song. dreamy and soft. he can move smooth and think slow, the fingers speed lessens and the snare shakes slightly. it's a celebration. a celebration of words and drums and sirens and guns and the bite of the air hints that winter is near. the sounds of trucks on the street disrupt the calm quiet of the empty, soul-less room. just a blanket on the ground and a pillow against a wall. where shared touch sparks the idea of love. but now there is none to hold and none to rush. wistful and folky a girl chimes in, singing soft, lulling even softer. the only thing keeping him awake is the soymilk on his left. comfort in the discomfort. suddenly a freestyle over a sloppy drumkit slowly pop and splash. immaturity revealed through the childlike rhymes tossed out from his pierced tongue. awakened by the sudden change of mood he steps the volume up a notch and awaits the coming company to accompany him in the dull evening...