ㅤᴅᴏᴏʀ ⋮ B11

@❛ jooheon lee。 The silence is deafening. In the quietude of an inert abode, concentration becomes stagnant. Ironically, because one would surmise that silence is a key factor to concentration, as it eliminates elements that one would otherwise heed already distrait attentiveness to. As a result, music is played at a low volume to remedy this frustration; to overcome an obstacle that barricaded her from creativity. 



But to no avail. A pencil remains still in a resolute hand, the sharpened, graphite tip having yet to come in contact with an alabaster sheet. Umber irises stare at this blankness, canvas vacant with a whimsical design the artist wishes to translate onto paper. However, translation requires something to actually decipher, and this one has yet to come up with that “something”. Akin to the emptiness of her canvas, the artist’s mind is blank with ideas. 



Lethargy is heavy in her exhale, despondent by lack of originality and the inability to rejuvenate her otherwise rampant creativity. So for tonight, she gives up, her apathetic gaze flickering to the silver, circular object suspended on her wall. Dashed lines and two hands of differing sizes indicate that it’s far too late for her to be awake, so she’s retreating to her air conditioned bedroom to lay between silken sheets. Insomnia, however, sees to it that she is unable to fall into slumber the second her head hits the pillow, so instead of attempting an impossible feat, she reaches for her phone just in time for the device to chime with a message from an unknown number. Strange, indeed, but for some odd reason, she doesn’t hesitate to entertain it without question.

[Text 4:07:05 AM] ‘Just artist’s block. Or whatever it’s called. You?’

@❛ sophia chang。 It was the mix of insomnia, loneliness and boredom that had brought him to this point. His eyes were glued on to his phone in hopes for some kind of activity. One of these had to work… eventually. Sending good thoughts out to the city was seeming all the more fruitless, as if his efforts to make a friend were being unrecognized and just dissipated into the void.

A future Jooheon might be smart enough to realize that there was so much wrong with this. Looking to find a friend through a combination of numbers was a shot in the dark. If he does beat the odds and get a string of numbers that was connected to a cellular device, who’s to know that they would respond? It was 4:00 AM not quite morning yet not exactly night either. It wasn't the ideal time to reach out. How utterly creepy was that? Now, given a scenario where everything lines up, the phone number works, the person on the other line is awake and reads his message, what kind of person would respond? Did he want to converse with a person who would respond to a text from a stranger at four in the morning?

But this was present Jooheon, and this seemed like a great idea to reach out. So despite the numerous failed attempts he was willing to give it one last try. If this didn't work- he would have to call it quits. So for the last time he typed into his phone.

[Text 4:05:45 AM] ‘Hi, I hope you're doing well, if you're asleep and seeing this in the morning, I hope you have a great day!’
[Text 4:06:01 AM] ‘Now if you're awake and not at work or studying, clearly something's on your mind… wanna talk?’