Sometimes I really love these slow, boring sunday mornings with nothing to do. Memories of the mid summer fest are slowly fading into the background. I think of the people I have lost during the last week. I think of the last night I spent sleeping, and hence missed the call I was waiting for, feeling at the same time both terrified and excited. My actions do not make any sense anymore. In fact, they have not made any sense to me for a while now. But I just do not want to think about that now. So instead of making myself nervous worrying about the irrationality of my existence I decide to let it all be for a while and just to sit back and let myself drown into the nothingness of the moment. Words create the shape of the moment. And after everything is said, the rest is silence. And it is the silence and the emptiness I once again cherish here at my small apartment. I don't want to think about tomrrow now. There will be a time for that, but that time just is not right now.
I think of her I met the other night. I think how her youth made me feel so alive. I had not felt that way in a very long time. And I remembered all the time I had wasted. I was thinking about those wasted, lost years I spent searching for the purpose of existence. And her voice made it all look so insignificant. But I knew at the same time that it wouldn't make any difference. "You and I, my friend, are from so very different worlds."
And I think of her who keeps laughing at me at the cafeteria. I want to know who you are and why do you laugh at me. I keep seeing your face every time I close my eyes. And your smile and your beautiful eyes reveal my weakness to me, as I'm dying to know your name. And I know you are laughing at me. It is not just in my head. It has to be true. I think of the one chance I had but which I blew. I simply asked for just a one chance, and I had it, and I blew it. And there probably will be no second chance. And I feel so determined to make my next irrational move the next time I see you, but at the same time I'm worried because I know there is a possibility I whimp out. So I find myself worrying once again. So much for taking it easy, I guess.
My mind is so empty at the moment. There seems to be no writing there, no letters for the day. The still moment carries me on to face the slow day I have to manage before the new beginning arrives. I would not want to feel this way because I know the failure that will follow will once again bring me down. The moment is so very difficult to define. There are no words to describe it with. These pointless thoughts just don't make any sense...
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