Chapter 1


The day starts in a quietly dimmed room, the only source of light being a single white candle, burning with a soft heat it illuminates dancing figures across the barren gray walls with every flicker of its flame.
The gentle Pitter Patter of rain hitting the curtained windows and the soft cold breeze pushing against the side of the house, making that short creaking sound.
Ataraxia. (The word here means: a state of serene calmness.) The simple sound of rain and wind can calm me down to such a degree that I forget my horrible anxiety and start believing I am more than what I appear to be, I am more than the quiet tall kid with the round glasses who reads all day. I'm more than the socially awkward art student. You see, my dreams and aspirations may be just the same old story to some but, I am not like the others.
As I sit here behind my laptop in this quietly dimmed room, With all the sounds of nature outside, I begin to wonder and wander through my own thoughts as easily as reading this sentence.
What am I to do?

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T. C. Nick: What does Ataraxia mean?
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