Lately, I haven't done ANYTHING. It feels wrong. I love it. Except at nights, when all the nagging doubts and scattered thoughts and regret and guilt come out like childhood monsters from an old closet, keeping me up till dawn.
I know I should be studying for my tests, or practicing for the never ending entrances I have to give next year or DO something productive.
Instead I lay in bed all day, discovering play lists on 8tracks with beautiful post alternative songs, like this one and think about life and death and existence and what not. Simultaneously I keep dumping all these pictures in a folder called 'INSPIRATION', mostly photos of far off places that along with the songs, have a beautiful effect. I dream of being there, just me alone. Escapism is such a treat.
Yesterday left me emotionally and physically battered. My sister, with whom I shared every moment of the 16 years I have been on this planet, now lives in a hostel. Just like that, I have a whole room to myself, nobody to share clothes with and an empty side of the bed. It's funny how Dad can be so insensitive about it, or maybe he is putting on the tough-guy facade to hide the pain. I will never know.
Our car broke down thrice, in the unbelievable heat and as usual, I had the worst headache in the history of all my headaches. I came home showered, ate a bit and threw up for almost an hour. For once, sleep came easy, with a goodnight text from my sister.
Today feels like an experiment, a day without her. I don't want to move a thing and yet, I want redecorate the entire room, welcoming change with open arms. Tomorrow I'll tackle the huge cupboards and piles of dusty books. For now, I just want to exist peacefully. Even if for a while.