I’ve just been too busy in the last few days. not sleeping much. drinking too much coffee. I haven’t slept more than four hours for three nights and so last night when I arrived home around midnight I didn’t even bother taking off my clothes and went straight to bed. fourteen hours still did me no justice. I stay up for no reason except to talk to him. about everything and nothing. it’s strange but it keeps me going. sometimes it’s all I need.
last night was one of the good ones, except I was too tired to stay longer. we had some nachos, sangria, English guys sitting next to us. I laughed at their conversations. there was a guy from paris somewhere, living in jerusalem, a hong kong filmmaker, strange people. everyone hanging out at the melting pot. but for me it was enough just to sit there on the street corner with my friend from melbourne. not much was needed to make me happy.
I am still not sure what the words meant. because I never said them. maybe I should try to put them down on paper. I hate putting myself out there. I hate making myself obvious, but that’s all ever I do. tomorrow it starts all over but I guess I am fine with it.