My world was spinning,

and somehow

that made me a little happy.

At first,

I was just quiet,

sitting in the same chair every day.

No activity at all

except the spinning.

I wasn’t even waiting

for something to happen.

Days passed

without leaving marks,

yet I returned

as if something unfinished

had learned my schedule.

I kept sitting in the chair.

Turning,

even when it made me nauseous.

The wheels creaked—

rusted, perhaps.

But that never stopped me

from sitting

and turning again.

Sometimes I told myself

I could skip it.

I didn’t.

After all,

it was pleasant—

despite the sickness.

Though maybe

it wasn’t pleasure

that kept me there,

but the quiet relief

of not having to choose

what to do next.

Only then did I begin to wonder

when a habit became a need—

and why stopping

suddenly felt harder

than staying.

—Vania C.A (7D)✌️