Friday, May 25, 2018

Stay Awake & Fantasize About Something Else


There is tremendous pressure to stay hot this season. I now know Barca is a city for young people- and it's the definition of "young people" that has changed. I'm not young anymore. This city truly belongs to 16-21 yo - my wardrobe is better suited in Milan. Or any other bigger, older city.

It just occurred to me, I'm about to go live in nature in sixteen months and all my clothes are city clothes. They're extremely stylish and delicate. I don't have anything that can resist sweat and I do sweat a lot if I'm active. I've eliminated pretty much all sports clothing over the years. How am I supposed to... hmm. I just keep telling myself I'll- no. What should you wear in the woods even?

Let's think - some other time.

​I don't and I can't even... hmm. I'm sorry Diary. I just. I.

I'm cornered again with no distraction. It's painful. You get me, right? How can people live without distraction? I have no distraction any more. Do you know how straining it is to stay focused every waking second? Oh not even waking second if you count the first thirty minutes into sleep and the last thirty minutes of half-consciousness before waking up. Good God. There is such a thing as " too much focus " - you have to understand.

It's right. It's the course of life... it's . . .

Why. Why do I need distraction? Because I'm human. Why do I need to eat? Because I'm human. Because I constantly remind myself that I am human. I do... as a human. I feel... as a human. I observe... as a human. I live...

Diary. Diary...

The little details go unnoticed. The care put into every little creation that makes them more endearing but in no way profound or more meaningful. The blossom that has yet to wither. The Top. The bottom. The exchange between day and night and I...

Diary- you get me, right? You have to get me. You stood by me. You hear me. You record me. You remember me. You understand me. You tolerate me. You support me. You hate me. You Love me. You are indifferent to me. You and I keep all the things I... what are you, Diary? You aren't everything. I can never tell you everything. You are here. You must understand me.

It's not even...

I'm sorry for wasting my own time.

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