only two weeks left of this nonsense. I am actually pleased that I have managed to keep up with a project for an entire year, all of fifty-two weeks. or I will. not there yet. I keep jumping too fast, too soon. perhaps, I thought that maybe I made a mistake, but no. I keep watching out for any signs of deception and unsettling feelings; it’s all in my head. or so it seems. I am not fully convinced yet, and it’s the only reason why the inside of my mind is missing harmony. because really that’s what I am missing right now. harmony. my twenty-two, almost twenty-three, year old life has turned into a thirty and plus, or worse. I think it’s supposed to be like that, because the society isn’t waiting and sitting, hoping and wishing. things move along, things change. and I should be more grateful than I am.
life has been pleasantly exhausting. for the most part. I still have those days when old and rusty memories, things I would prefer not to remember anymore, they creep up from where I cannot see them coming and bam! they knock the wind out of me with such strength, I cannot keep my composure. on a daily basis I process orders, which come through our company. I check the details, the numbers, the names. I make sure everything fits and everything is correct. sometimes it frightens me how many of these details I remember, not only for hours, but for days and weeks to come. and then when people ask me I simply recite as if it’s all of my own. it isn’t. and then this morning. I am already used to seeing 99 queen’s road central on a daily basis and knowing that we have our presence there. but seeing the company name, which I’ve struggled so much to keep away from myself; it is too difficult. it was there. best regards from and to, f. sharp inhale. exhale. at first it didn’t make sense and I immediately thought of the departure hall at the airport, just like I always do when something fucks up. it was nothing, really. just the letter, just the name of the company, just the address. trouble begins when definite article replaces the indefinite one. then I know.
none of this makes sense to you. it isn’t supposed to. despite wanting to enlarge my online presence, despite writing for various mediums, despite contributing to these magazines and those blogs, this space is still my space. I mostly write for myself and to someone. never for any other reason. maybe that’s why nothing will ever come out of this. who knows. life moves along, things change.