The surrounding was now in quietude as the dark night poisoned everyone to sleep.

One man, lying on his bed, listening to every sound that shatters the silence of the dark moment. Ideas appeared excitedly in his mind like a heated electron that never stops from moving. His eagerness to etch those promising thoughts into words troubled him, leaving him in a state that he cannot handle. He felt that those inspirations would, in any moment, erupt like a volcano.

I should pen them to existence, the man told himself. Now.

Unable to control his spirit to write them down, the man,  in the verge of closing his heavy eyes for the rest of the night, stood from his cottony bed, retrieved his laptop and started to press keys on its board.

Then, his time for rest was consumed on his uncontrollable addiction of building his own world the whole night.

It was his satisfaction, anyway.

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