9 Days of croped notes.!!

He stayed up late that night. It was 11:00. He was in his study-room as usual. These 9 days, he had barely stepped out of the room. His room all dirty, cropped notes, books, bed’s sheet, blanket unfold, books and more books over his precious and most cherished guitar, his room stinking with sweats, cans of energy drink piling up at a corner, his room filled with chart papers and some kind of- chemical reactions and symbols written all over it. He used to sit in his study table with shorts and topless and a head band which was so tight that his brain could pop out any minute.. There wasn’t any light to be seen but his. He lost his appetite but gained concentration. It was a matter of life and death; that period of time which could pave a path to his long-wished future.

Dont know what to do., whole brain is crying.!

But that 9^th day, or more specifically, ‘night’, he stayed late. It was the same time, 11:00. He stayed up in his stinking room filled with trash, as he sees it now with shorts and no tops and this time, without head band. He sits there lying on the floor with scattered books and notes all over the place, and loads of books still over his guitar and his room still stinking with sweat. He gets up, sprays his only body spray all over the room hoping to cope with it for the night. He finds a last can of energy drink, grabs it and lies on the chair with a bright smile. It was over., it was finally over.