some times

It is easy to get lost once you don’t record things. Life passes by so quickly; you go to work on Monday then there’s the water rationing and then the phone calls then the movies and then an interview. The coffees every morning, and the familiar faces on the train and suddenly it is the end of the week. There are instances and movements but they all fall into routine, eventually. What was once extraordinary becomes ordinary and suddenly everything become still.

Usually there’s someone I address all my writings to, at least subconsciously, the imaginary audience (a personal one) but of late I feel as if there is no longer any point to it. I read L’s 40-page book (journal? jottings? reflections?) and wonder how is it possible to amass such words in a course of a few months. Odes are odes, lovers are lovers, but still they require time, and effort.

Sometimes it is better to sleep early, to forget everything, to not read, not think, to be un-stimulated and unperturbed by the happenings of the world. I want to forget, to not participate, to not care in a lot of things, people and whatever there is in the world that it has to offer.

Only certain things and people make me happy now. The cat that appears in front of the bathroom early in the morning.   Watching sunrise from the train. To lie still in a completely dark room before going to sleep. My brother. Otherwise I tread the world rather carelessly, airlessly – conscious to myself and of my the surroundings – yet with that certain uneasiness that things. just. might. overwhelm. me.