My Last Camp Night Hours

"Words are a mystery. How they're thought of, how they're made, how they're pronounced, how they make up a sentence or a story. One part of me feels that if someone didn't discover words, we'd probably have noises we make to communicate. Or wait, what if these words are the noises? Who's the genius now?!"

Those were the first words I digitally scribbled as I sat in involuntary solitude embraced by the cold night. It's 9:32pm and I'm biting the nerves in my brain that convinced me to come for this camping trip. It's the third and penultimate day here and I should, at least, be drowned in the moment. But yes, I've had my moments, laughed at awesome jokes told by passersby, people sleeping in the worst positions in the world, people tripping and falling on the damp grass.

The darkness has completely enveloped the sky leaving only few peek holes for stars. People just keep darting in all directions like they've got some very important business. My face had found its perfect spot in the terrains of my palm as my eyeballs did all the roaming. I can't say I'm bored, no, because these people aren't doing anything fun. I classify their actions as an unwanted spillage of potential energy propelled by unproductive youthful benevolence.

I felt a vacuum, a large void vacuum within my bowels from which I periodically heard very hostile growling, like a ten seconds audio clip of the world war two. My attention then drifted from the unnecessarily busy world and focused on how to tame my inner lions. I slid my hands in my pockets and let my fingers caress its every wall. The response my fingers sent to my brain was that a state of emergency had earlier been declared on the premises and an immediate evacuation was carried out. All I could think of was that very interesting fried rice and chicken I had earlier used in serenading my taste buds and adorning my stomach. Vanity!! Oh, had I known… I was so hungry and I was so broke - worst combination ever. I paced up and down, fake smiling to every salute I get. I had earlier refused to eat the free food they served here because I was fronting standard but now I begged manna to fall from heaven. Moral lesson: Never listen to a rich person talk, he’s only saying what his pocket thinks.

And then something struck me... I could feel a continuous jerk of excitement in my nasal nerves, a huge goose bump spread across my olfactory lobe; it was the cynosure of all eyes, the color in this monochromatic world, the music that spread across the mute horizon. Dinner is here!!!