A perfect time to write.
It's 3:50 pm. Monday afternoon. Late afternoon? It's been raining non stop. Snowed a little while i was sleeping. While A was getting ready for work and I was dreaming up a murder mystery with an ensemble cast. Where I was the murder victim and right before the end, when the killer was looking for me and I was trying to call out for help, I lost my voice. No matter what I did, I couldn't shout for help. But then a stoned asian family sort of saved me. And then I woke up. It was 12. Noon. I had a two day old leftover falafel wrap for breakfast. And tried a new flavor of coffee. Both were great. The living room is cosy, the white buttery soft cardigan I'm wearing is cozy and so are my dog printed pyjamas. I'm watching that movie, Good grief on netflix. That is very cozy as well.
You know what I miss? I miss friends. I miss the proximity of relations, friendships. The sillyness and laughter of friendships. The variety. That version of you that comes out with that person. Different people, different versions. But more or less the same. I spoke to V on the phone a while ago, and we talked about the royal family and then a little bit about our own families. THAT was very cozy as well. A warm heart, a light heart. Full, but not heavy. What else can one need?
If I could paint, I would paint portraits of people and fill the background with colours and images of what I imagine their subconscious would look like. I also feel that a lot of art lives inside me. An excess of emotion and imagination. What do I do with it? I think I would thrive in rooms with similar minds. But those rooms evade me. Those conversations evade me. Why please?
A great thing about cooking, other than eating delicious food, is boxing up some for your friends and giving it to them. I really love doing that.
Another thing that I have realized about myself is that my personal style in terms of fashion, is very basic. Toned down, practical. Severe casual leaning. Not always. But it's what comes naturally to me.
Its 9:54 pm now. It's still raining. I went to the gym. I ran. The endorphins did me some good. It snowed and rained at the same time, while i ran on the treadmill, listening to boyz in paris. Haha. Before that I went up to give our friends/neighbours the food I made last night. She gave me some pizza dough and a jacket. Sat with them for some chitchat. That was cozy too. It gave me joy. I've had dinner, I'm showered and scrubbed, smelling nice and finishing up Good Grief.
This weekend, I'm flying. To meet s1 and to stay with her for a few weeks after which I fly back home. Since when is this my life, where I fly here and there. Who am I? A lot of things have worked out this year. I checked all the boxes, except for the main one, the one I worked all year for. Life is tricksy that way. I think I'm dealing with it better than I thought i would. Kudos to me. At the gym, I saw a Sean Bean doppleganger. Maybe it was him. I guess we will never know.
1 comment:
"If I could paint, I would paint portraits of people and fill the background with colours and images of what I imagine their subconscious would look like." -- This is so beautiful! I love your honest, stream of consciousness writing.
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