distillation of my october days.
crisp morning shadows / monochrome silhouette / sundown / street art & graffiti
I hold my breath and I cross the road carefully. his words keep ringing in my head, but I cannot hear the voice. just a screenshot of my phone. it is ridiculous, the communication habits of today’s society. yet I am perfectly comfortable with them. the past week has been uneventful. except for the little ones’ seventh and second birthday. we showed up together with some hello kitty paraphernalia. their happiness made it worth. the littlest one speaks now and calls for papa all the time, but is perfectly content not being in his arms at the same time. she’s losing her baby fat and walks faster than she has before. no more insecure stumbling around. she brushes her own dress neat when it’s out of place. a little lady. watching her made my heart smile. it was such an ordinary day, yet it wasn’t. we made a mistake later, when we crossed to harbor to join the masses, but I realized it too late. I sat through the ordeal and hoped it would finish soon. we hugged in consolation on the way back home; the worst part about misunderstanding, is that in your own reflection later you cannot figure out how you arrived at that point in the first place. because it stops making sense. it’s not right, but it’s okay.
I’m counting my days off and trying to make the most of it. I am still not entirely aware of the long to-do list in preparation, but it will come soon and then it’ll hit me like a ton of bricks. I am ready. mornings are the same. so are the afternoons and evenings. but I am terrified, because at this point, I still don’t realize how much I could miss everything. I am terrified of having regrets later. it’s a phantom feeling, because I cannot think of a single thing that would make me change my mind. confusion burns and turns worse, only because I don’t have any answers. this morning I realized that a moleskine notebook, that I bought in september last year in order to write my heart out, has only been filled in the first twenty pages or less. a couple of a years ago, I was capable of finishing the whole notebook in three months. everything is less now. I used to fill four pages a day with words, now I struggle with four handwritten lines. I used to go to starbucks twice a day, now it’s twice a month. two things that I thought would never change.
everything changes with time.
October 28, 2013