I like nights. Apart from the beautiful moonlit (which I can never get enough of), I love nights. Reason being is that I see fewer people at night (and that, fewer see me too). I’ll have ample time for myself. Yes, I love to spoil myself. And I don’t use spoil lightly here. Especially when I have something that I should be worried about the next day-I’ll get spoiled a lot more. I’d be happy to take a long shower, singing most probably nothing to myself. But I enjoyed the moments. I stood under it with my eyes closed, feeling it soak through my hair and pour in streams off my elbows. I held my face right under it, hearing it thundering on my eyes and nose, deafening and icy cold. It was like heavy rain. Just like heavy rain.
And Lord, it felt good.
I think when we have this feeling of peace or avoidance; we tend to dream. Usually, a lot more. I kind of had visions of spending a lot of time sitting around wrapped in a big towel. Of steam rooms, saunas, massage with apricot scrub, seaweed treatment, algae, that kind of thing. I’d eat lots of fruits and vegetables. And I’d drink gallons of water, at least eight glasses of water a day. To flush me out, to cleanse me.
And usually, I’d feel alright about it. Whatever happened before that doesn’t matter. Nor does the future. I just feel good at present.
Only that I don’t.
Sigh. I don’t feel good now. Pas du tout. I don’t know what could probably go wrong but there seems to be a soft formlessness to my life these days. I just feel like a child, again. I hang around the room, doing almost nothing meaningful. The books I was meant to be reading for classes sat unnoticed on the table, belonging to another life. Yes, it’s a dangerous thought, I know. But it seems that way to me now. It couldn’t have felt any other way. I feel belonged to another life.
Ahh, I’m just having a rough week, otherwise. But there’s no way I’m gonna bitch about it. Enough damage, I guess. Period.
I'll be fine,