My Dear One! When you are lying in the grass, with your head thrown back, there is no one around you, and only the sound of the wind can be heard and you look up into the open sky — there, up above, is the blue sky and the clouds floating by — perhaps this is the very best thing you have ever done or seen in your life.
(Kabakov, Looking Up, Reading the Words)
I woke up and it was 7; my alarm was ringing. I set two alarms before my 7 am, but I don’t remember turning them off.
Even on a day I only slept 3 hours; even on the day of my math midterm; each day is a blessing.
just one of the few thousand times in my life that i’ve wished to have some sort of magic time traveling power, so i could skip right by this tedious and awful work but still get results.. 12 hours from now i’ll be on my way to my midterm, and 24 hours from now i’ll be in a deep, deep sleep, dreaming about nothing but how wonderful my bedsheets feel against my skin.
someone upstairs is walking back and forth, back and forth, and every time they pass through, the walls rattle a little bit. i don’t mind, because it keeps me company in a house that is otherwise quiet; everyone is sleeping and silent.
I’m in bed, and it’s not even 10 pm. I feel like a happy burrito. The last time this happened was probably before I hit puberty. Why am I doing it? Because there’s really nothing else to do, and I can, so why not?
Is it so easily read from my face?
This cloud that fell upon me this week?
Sometimes when I walk through this town.. I have to wonder if it will all culminate with playing bloody knuckles with a car, but with my torso and not my fist.
I put new people on a pedestal, worshipping them for their surprising kindness to me, for their benevolent notice. How many silver-plated statues have I erected, only to humanize them as I grew to know their vulnerable frailties?
what do you do when your soul is tired… when the bags under your eyes are ink stains on your face and your head is always a bit cloudy… i’m not even sure what i’m saying