The refuge of the dark room is comforting, at least to dream. My dream-machine-room. Is cold. And has tiny windows. Three blind mice , like in Agatha’s Christies (don’t remember what ) book.
Another day.
It never really finished since yesterday woke me up a text message. I hoped, in vain, that it was yours.
My favorite article ever during all the semester that I actually read with a strange concentration –not given by caffeine- and I boycotted myself. I didn’t go to classes. Not even when I had chickenpox I wanted to skip classes. That was crucial on deciding next step. I guess I want to be steady some moments. Think about it. Understand why, if I wanted, more than you, another dimension is so hard.
Is the third, and hopefully last, time to experience our goodbye. An open wound, though, during the process. It hurts, it heals, hurts, heals….slowly but for sure. It has been hours since your smile-tears-laugh invaded me for the last time, this time. Thank you for meeting me, and leaving me. You gave me back who I am, and my creativity. At least, to dream with turtles, circular ruins, Persian empire, a priest, the beach and sun tans. I don’t sun bath! Yes dear, I should eat, sleep but I can’t. I can’t sleep without sleepiness, or eat when I’m not hungry (at work I left the microwave -warmed soup on top on the fridge and they ask about it) I just couldn’t eat the noodle leftovers of our last supper together. Bad idea. I can’t eat the oreo cookies neither.
Another day.
It never really finished since yesterday woke me up a text message. I hoped, in vain, that it was yours.
My favorite article ever during all the semester that I actually read with a strange concentration –not given by caffeine- and I boycotted myself. I didn’t go to classes. Not even when I had chickenpox I wanted to skip classes. That was crucial on deciding next step. I guess I want to be steady some moments. Think about it. Understand why, if I wanted, more than you, another dimension is so hard.
Is the third, and hopefully last, time to experience our goodbye. An open wound, though, during the process. It hurts, it heals, hurts, heals….slowly but for sure. It has been hours since your smile-tears-laugh invaded me for the last time, this time. Thank you for meeting me, and leaving me. You gave me back who I am, and my creativity. At least, to dream with turtles, circular ruins, Persian empire, a priest, the beach and sun tans. I don’t sun bath! Yes dear, I should eat, sleep but I can’t. I can’t sleep without sleepiness, or eat when I’m not hungry (at work I left the microwave -warmed soup on top on the fridge and they ask about it) I just couldn’t eat the noodle leftovers of our last supper together. Bad idea. I can’t eat the oreo cookies neither.
*************
Three blind mice, three blind mice,See how they run, see how they run,They all ran after the farmer's wife,Who cut off their tails with a carving knife,Did you ever see such a thing in your life,As three blind mice?
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