what it feels like

June 17, 2012 | Hong Kong

breathe, in and out. take a shower three times a day and wash your broken hair even though it’s still not completely dry. on the first day, sleep eighteen hours. fall asleep on the couch in the late afternoon and then finally move to bed shortly after midnight. sleep the whole night. turn your phone off, the alarm clock, social networks. everything off. wake up on friday morning wondering why you’re in your own bed. there’s an elephant on your chest and it won’t leave. go to the bathroom with the elephant. let your father make you the first cup of coffee. you can make the second one for both of you. walk to work, fill out some stupid paperwork. after the third telemarketer, stop picking up your phone. bury it at the bottom of your handbag. during lunch read newspapers. skim through your emails and never reply to any of them. a quick visit to the park island. it is a hot day and you cannot wait for the second day to be over. go for drinks with your father. take super inspiring instagram photos. switch from gin to vodka. get home before midnight, go to sleep immediately. wake up twelve hours later.

spend saturday (the third day) on the couch, watching a crime television show. make pasta for one. fall asleep for an hour around four o’clock. when you wake up, eat the remains of pasta and drink a whole bottle of milk. change the dvd disc. by now, you’re kind of used to the elephant on your chest. the list of things to be grateful for has definitely diminished into nothing. it doesn’t exist anymore and you’re not really sure that it ever really did. finish the whole season by midnight. don’t show up for saturday drinks and instead go to bed like you’ve had the most exhausting day. wake up early on sunday. maybe even too early. spend two hours drinking coffee and listening to unplugged in new york. walk to work. nod at people. take the train to the airport. watch people come and go. third coffee. listen to love actually soundtrack and hope that it will be the end of the year soon. you just want summer to be over. can’t we just fast forward to next year? be jealous of people who are actually flying somewhere and not just sitting at the departure gate, drinking coffee and wishing they were somewhere else.

ignore your phone. there’s no messages or phone calls anyway. watch the sky clear after a heavy rain. check twitter. regret checking twitter. check it again half an hour later. take a taxi back to the office. lunch. noodles with vegetables. the same ones, as always. eat your lunch with earphones on. cringe when you remember the piled up weekend dishes in your kitchen. the obvious awaits you when you get home but you’d rather just sleep. and sleep. sleep through the whole week. sleep through the whole summer. just sleep. the phone rings but you know it’s no one you’d want to talk to. silence it to voicemail. contemplate going to happy hour. alone. reject the idea when you remember where the happy hour is. quietly laugh at yourself. check your facebook after three days. eat an apple. search hopelessly for music that won’t make you feel like crap. fail. try and write something even remotely of substance. fail. coffee number four. it is 2.49 pm now and the headache should come on in about twenty minutes. hang out with the filmmaker. this summer is really too much like the last one. wonder and keep wondering when you’re going to stop wondering.