Wednesday, February 17, 2010


My hair smells of smoke and shampoo and left-over traces of perfume it picked up from my neck. The curls are bored and bland, my ends are split and the tips that were once a radiant red are just stained now... washed out and tired...
I stopped doing so many of the things I love. I stopped talking to Tamas and I stopped answering my mom's phone calls. I stopped cooking (heck, I barely eat anything anymore) my lovely meals. I stopped reading and it's killing me, because no matter what, I always had this! I cannot keep a book in my hands (this coming from a child who lied about being scared of the dark so I could read at the light in the hallway) just as I cannot keep a conversation flowing (this coming from a teenager who would have endless hours of phone conversation with her lover) and this is just sad. Sad that I am so empty and dry and just sooo very tired! I am so tired I can't even sleep anymore, I am anxious and bored at the same time and these are not even the weirdest things that have happened lately!
Now I'll try to fall asleep, I'll try not to think about what I have to do tomorrow, or the next day, or the next... I'll try to remember how it feels to lose faith in all humanity at Gatsby's funeral, and how I rode a sad train with Anna Karenina, how magical a parrot umbrella can be and how to tame a fox. I'll try to imagine how three man taking a vacation together must be like and how important it is to be Frank. I'll recollect the last books I read, a soma holiday in mom's house, a wicked slaughterhouse on a long airplane ride and a young artist's portrait in a comfortable armchair.
But today is just another Monday after all, so sleep will come, like it always does.