2 minute writing exercise - 22:32pm

You can't connect the dots
Because you have forgotten Sunday
You are that papered ribbon of a moment
When you wake up and forget who you are.

And the coffee-scented sunrise catching his dusty eyelids
Doesn't make the breath catch in your throat
Any more. The imagery's turned stale.
Your camera's out of film.

Musings

Last night's eyeliner game still going strong? Check. Unquenchable thirst and questionable memories of the night before? Check. Hangover? Check. My face this morning was a mass of contradictions, on the one hand my eyes and lips looked as perfectly made up as they had when I went out, whilst my face was dry, patchy and flaky - I looked like a surrealist painting or something (OR a cheap hooker, but I prefer the painting simile). But contradictions, that got me thinking.  

"We value permanence in impermanence and impermanence in permanence nowadays" I mused as I helped myself to orange juice at my friend's house this morning - essentially worshipping sleep yet forever being the first person up. And as deep and pseudo-philosophical as that may sound, I think I was onto something. We're constantly looking for things to last longer, nights out, eyeliner, orgasms, there's a perpetual fear of life going by so quickly that we're afraid it could always bypass us without us realising. However, how many people are continually racing forwards towards the weekend or the next payday or the summer holidays without stopping to consider that right here, can actually be pretty good as well. Yeah you might have work spilling over from desk to floor to bed and a spot may have appeared in the most inconspicuous of places the day you have a date but what about today when you laughed so hard you thought you were gonna throw up and the lady you see every morning at the bus stop bought you a Diet Coke. 

 I'm trying not to run the risk of sounding like a self-help book or a John Green novel by saying everyone should appreciate the little things more but perhaps people should depreciate when it comes to expectations. I'm doing a little experiment right now where I try my hardest to avoid having expectations so that I can appreciate things for what they are and not for what I thought they were going to be. Let's see how it goes. 

On being a hungover romantic

There's a pile of translations, essay plans and wider reading sizing me up from across the room, I don't want to befriend it today. Today is one of Hello Kitty pyjamas and stories with words so perfectly placed that they give me shivers. 

For once I felt I was doing things I considered more important. Like analysing the cadence of laughter as it drifts through smoky air at 4am, assessing the sweet, fusty smell of last night that clings to the static of your clothes. Hearing the rain pelt the windscreen so hard that I thought it might shatter because in my rosé-haze, we were driving towards the end of the earth.