My last defense part 6

From the whole foods I went left on Ashby and then I took a right on Shattuck. My house is six blocks north of the intersection between Ashby and Shattuck. My house was located behind Reel Video on Shattuck. It was a large house with four bedrooms and a huge front porch. One of my roommates was dating a rich kid. The rich kid's dad owned the house and charged the rest of us affordable rent. I'd met the roommate randomly by sitting in on a class at UC Berkeley on creative writing. We'd become friends after the class. A few months later my roommate said that she was moving in with her boyfriend and wanted to know if I wanted a room in the house as well.

I lifted my bike onto the porch and unlocked the front door. The front room is was the living room. There were two sofas sitting opposite each other. I propped my bicycle on the sofa in the living room. There was a television in the corner of the room. Moving forward I reached the kitchen then a few steps more and I had reached the pointwhere the house splat off into the bedrooms. My bedroom was the one on the right after the kitchen.

My bedroom is medium sized. I kept it pretty tidy. It helped that I had a bookshelf for my few books. The books shelves also doubled as storage for my various crap. I kept my spare shoes on the bottom shelf. My bed was a twin with no box spring so it laid low to the ground. I shut my door and laid down on my bed. I closed my eyes. I laid there for fifteen minutes before my clothing started to bother me. I sat up and took off my shoes and pants.

Attached to the top of my bookshelf was a small daddy long legs. The gangly looking spider was crawling down the side of the bookshelf. My eyes latched onto it. It turned to me and spoke.

"To recreate all 'it was' into 'thus I willed it' - that alone I should call redemption... Willing liberates; but what is it that puts even this liberator in fetters? 'It was" that is the name of the will's gnashing of teeth and most secret melancholy. The will cannot will backwards; and that it cannot break time and time's covetousness, that is the will's loneliest melancholy."

I stared at the spider longer. It continued to move down the bookshelf as though nothing happened. When it reached the floor it scuttled away into a crevice. I laid down in my bed and fell asleep.