Trigger.

He was there - he was sure he was really there - sitting on that hollow, immaculate throne like any other normal, abnormal, supernormal human being, or paranormal entity, or even any mutant like Wolverine and Magneto would do to mark the beginning of a fresh, new day.  He was half-asleep. Half-awake. His joints, muscles and ligaments, tired from his restless acrobatic dream, and battered by his inconsiderate backbreaking mattress, were incessantly pleading for a morning stretch routine. His senses, kept awake by his destitute stomach growling from the inside, were craving for the smell of wheat and caffeine. But there was a different smell perpetrating within the very four claustrophobic walls of that miniscule kingdom, where only he existed and ruled, where nobody else really mattered at all. It was just him, and only him, doing his own business.

It’s funny how people can be reminded of the biggest but most forgettable and unnoticeable things in life through the simplest and most ordinary things revolving around them. How the simplest sensory impulses can trigger the most outrageous and bizaare trains of thought at the most unexpected places and circumstances still remains a mystery for many of us, including me. It’s a discombobulating and intriguing phenomenon.

Did you ever realize how many times you’ve visited that same place ever since you first realized that your existence is actually real and not just simply a prank joke made by God? Did it ever occur to you, how you’ve changed over the years? Has that smell changed? Has it stayed the same? Don’t answer.

Did you ever realize, looking at that mirror, seeing yourself in full glory, witnessing for yourself the embodiment of your physical existence, your physical transformation, or metamorphosis if you want to put it that way, beholding your true self in front of your naked eyes, how much you’ve changed over the years?

When you look into your half-closed eyes; when you feel the edges of your freshly lathered skin, cleared of dead skin cells; when you hear your own lungs breathing for you, your own heart pumping blood for you; when you smell the faint traces of shampoo on your hair; when you taste the lingering, cooling sensation of menthol in your mouth; did it ever occur to you how much of your life has remained the same? How many times have you used the same toothpaste brand? How many times have you changed it? Was there ever a time when you forgot to brush your teeth before coming to school? Was there ever a time when you did not take a bath before going to school? I’ve always taken a bath and brushed my teeth.

And when you look around the four corners of your truncated, undersized kingdom, have you ever thought about how much of your true self you’ve been hiding all this time?

Behind your kingdom’s impenetrable mahogany door, blurred, rectangular jalousies, and opaque, discoloured walls, lies your true appearance, your true smell, your true feelings, your true emotions, your true self, your true nature, your true soul. But as long as you are alone inside there, no one can take you away from your throne, unless it’s for public use. No one wants to be late for school or work.