I have not been able to sleep since my last entry to this blog. The damnable dripping sets my nerves on edge; sleep is quite impossible. And it has followed me. For I have left the room.
There were no doors; no exits; no entrances. The room was a closed circle in the shape of a rectangle; I had walked it's perimeter too many times to count in my boredom. And yet, after restlessly trying to ignore the nerve-shattering sound of water, I turned in my makeshift bed; I saw the doorway as clear as day. From the white wall, a black corridor. I jumped to my feet, and found myself hit by chilliness.
After converting my makeshift bed into clothes once more, I took the laptop computer and peeked my head out of the door; the corridor went far to the left, and only a half-metre to the right. I noted that I'd left my boots to one side, and went over to put them back on.
Upon trying to leave the room once again, I turned to the left; only to found myself facing the wall. I turned around, and instead saw the path to the 'right' (which was now straight ahead of me). I thought nothing of it, and walked along it. The path bent and it curved; I was faced with many crossroads, and merely took whichever path I thought looked promising. Surprisingly, I ran into not one dead end.
But... I tired of it. My body did not tire; as if built not from sinews and muscles and blood and bone, but from axles and gears and oil and metal. One step after another; I began to feel the world freeze around me. Everything was the same; nothing was new. Every corridor the same as the last; I could walk for an eternity and get nowhere. I could feel rushing despair take my soul by it's neck; I cared not. For that period of time, everything became stale; I walked because I had walked.
And then I saw someone.
I had reached another T-junction, or was about to. As I neared it, I saw a person walk down it in the other direction. As monochrome as the rest of the place, they marched straight past me, not even looking in my direction.
And then I paused and sat down to write this. These corridor are like a warren; it should not be too hard to find that person again, if they are as lost as I am. Or incredibly difficult. Either way, it is a break-up from the monotony of walking.