Sitting on the couch is okay with a view out the window, even if it’s the middle of the day and I’m already tired with it all. I like to scrunch on the couch in a certain way so I can balance my computer on one knee and on the arm of the couch, that way it’s sort of like a little table. And then I don’t know. I have lots of things I am supposed to be doing. I actually enjoy these days but if you asked me I wouldn’t be able to relate to you anything I did at all. I wait for my boyfriend to come home and then when he comes home it’s not the same, not really. We fight a lot now, and lying in bed next to him I don’t really want to touch him as much. But I love him so much and watching him sleep brings me the most pleasure out of anything I’ve done in so many years. He is so precious. But I guess all human beings are when they sleep, aren’t?
There isn’t so much light in here during the day, though I guess I can control it by how I fix the blinds. It’s hot outside and everything feels flat in the middle of the day. I can’t believe I’m alive in a heat like this, it doesn’t seem like it’d allow something to coexists along side of it. And that is why I am hiding inside, with my legs scrunched up and a t-shirt with my dress and heels in the middle of his room. He is going to tell me to clean that later, so I better do it now.
I don’t really know what I am doing today. I like to write, but I am tired of that for now. I ran today and then I taught and I guess I could do some stuff but I don’t really feel like it. I guess if I had a choice of doing the one thing I really feel like doing, that would be…I don’t know, winning an award of some sort. Someone telling me I am great. Having a friend call or something. But even then I know I won’t answer it. Isn’t it said when you’re unhappy or just bored and you can’t even think of what you’d like to be doing instead? Actually I’d like to be sleeping but I am not tired, not right now.
If I were at my apartment what would I be doing? I would be sleeping. But here it is much more quiet, and there are no trees, not that I can really see out the window. I can’t sleep here. The things around me start to wake up when I sleep. At least at my apartment they have the respect to stay somewhat silent.
I called him a few times but he’s not answering, which is normal for him. I just worry all day that he forgot something. If he forgot something he will be in a very bad mood, and that will make me feel even worse. I wish for once he could just have a great day. You know it’s kinda funny, I think I think that I could give it to him, but I can’t, or haven’t really been able to recently. People think they have all this power over the way other people live and feel but really we have only a little; the rest is up to them, or God. Well that sucks. He’s going to be angry I know. I want to eat but I think I told him I’d cook dinner. I always say that early in the day, thinking I will have fun with it, but deep down I know I don’t really like to cook. It feels like work; and it is work! People get paid to do it.
I wish I had more to do with myself; and then, I don’t. I don’t have many friends anymore because I don’t like a lot of people around here; also because I am so miserable or moody that I don’t really wanna subject them to that. It wouldn’t be fair to invite someone out while you’re not really capable of having a good time anyway.
I guess I could write another story. Lately all of my stories seem to be able to reach a certain point and then not go further; there is always some piece that seems to be missing, and no matter how long or hard I search I always get this close but then I realize I’m not close at all, no. The more I guess at it actually the farther I am from it. Then the solution to finding it is to not write at all. So that is what I am caught between right now.
But things are good; things are looking up. I look forward to food, and I look forward to exercise, sort of, and getting dressed in the morning, and showering after a good workout. I look forward to being outside sometimes, seeing a flower when I didn’t expect one; I look forward to the occasional distraction of reality TV or a tabloid magazine. I look forward to eating something delicious I’ve never tried before; and I look forward to what will come, how different than today it will be. I also look forward to a life that is not really mine but that seems truer to me than any other life is; this is the life that lives inside of me unlived. I look forward to that, though I’m not sure why. Mostly I just enjoy walking outside and seeing things, lifting myself from my brain and letting myself just live in the colors and the shapes of things, because when you do that it’s hard to really be mad at anything. If everything were just what it was, which is a collection of colors and a collection of shapes, there wouldn’t be any point in feeling much but gratitude. And that is how I want to feel.