I am at a loss of words here. yesterday I’ve finally had a whole afternoon just for myself. I spent it writing, walking around and exploring the greyness of the city. it is particularly grey these these days. we’ve gone up from ten degrees to twenty seven. twenty seven names for tears, twenty seven levels. it all comes down to that. this weekend I am not doing much. reading, writing, watching mind numbing medical tv shows and eating too much of sweets. why not. I think after last week I deserve it.
I wonder when my muse is going to kick in again.
what do I say about tonight? no, wait. what do I say about today as a whole?
I like how you’re not awkward with me. how you can tell me things, you don’t tell everyone. I like that you talk to me about other people, because you aren’t able to talk to them. you make me happy. but you make me sad, too. because we’re so similar in some things I can read you like a book, even though the more time I spend with you, the less I know you. what you don’t realize every lie you say I can hear it in my head, somewhere in past, because I say exactly the same things. and this will be either the end of our friendship, or just the beginning. if we both keep our walls on, we will never understand each other. but one thing I know; a bowl of hot pho has never tasted better.
maybe one day I will finally tell you everything I have on mind. but I need to be sure.
it’s been a long long long day. essays. presentations. coffee. sandwiches and elliott smith. still on repeat. and so on. messages. emails. texts. gin and tonics. baileys. it was a good night. norah jones and the fall. it made me miss that last night.
I need more time.
the migraine of three days is in the process of fading away, which is why I am sitting here now, at one o’clock in the morning, with a glass of white wine, finishing an essay for tomorrow morning. because I have nothing else to do. I’ve narrowed down my purposes to studying reading and writing. everything else seems irrelevant and occasionally I break the stereotype with few episodes of a mind numbing show. but that’s what I have come down to. I am no longer looking forward to weekends or free time. because that just means even more work. over are the careless nights with james until sunrise. but I cannot wait have some time to write for a few hours about nothing.
elliott smith is constantly on repeat along with damien rice, and of course, unplugged in new york, which was on the entire day today. I like to remember my music, I like to remember the lyrics. but sometimes I am thinking we could have been so much more if you just hadn’t built that wall around yourself. because I am not the person who will climb over it.
why do people need their space? I’ve always hated that excuse.