"Go inward and choke"

   It took me nearly three weeks but I finally managed to wake up again at 6.30 - to get up, do the laundry, make myself a coffee, omelet for breakfast, dishes, sit down and write and then work for two hours. I've fallen in a misshaped kind of loop that I would very much like to blame on the quarantine but really, it's in my head. The quarantine feeds it.

  The thing is, I love the night in all its aspects and somehow watching it fade feeds me with a sense of calm - I dread the darkness sometimes, though it generally hides me, I feel that there's nothing to hide in it presently and maybe, annoyingly, I need the sun more at the moment. By the time the night falls my head is hopelessly immersed in fog. 

  So I have tried to get up in the morning - it's not so much about the number but it's also about it too. I've found that when I wake up early and keep my phone turned off and my laptop away from the socials time goes by differently, more slowly. I almost have the ability to perceive time in existence rather than something that is always at my neck, always rushing and pulling me along. I do not try to fight time but rather to understand it better and see it in relation to myself. To not take it too seriously but also not to disregard it either. I figured out and accept that I am, in spite of it all, full of ambition but at the end of the day I feel content if I have been present in a day enough to feel time go by rather than perceive it at something that slipped right through my fingers.

  Take care of yourself, your mind, so that you can take care of others too. The isolation sometimes drowns me but the isolation has also saved me in so many ways - I have however pushed people too far away and now I don't know how to be in their presence. Rather, I don't know how to be present without having to pretend. I take solace in the fact that for years I have drowned within the waters of my mind and that in spite of not asking for help I managed to somehow find the surface and somewhat pull my self ashore. I slip back in the murky waters often, I berate myself for not having asked for help but if I overcame the worst part then I can hold on some more. 

  I can shape things differently. 

  The introspection helps, the understanding, the acceptance - but they are only half the step. One has to start with small steps before jumping. Not to be cautious, but rather to give time to the muscles to rest and grow strong. I take care of the house. I do little things that in the "grand scheme of things" are nonsensical, perhaps practical in their own way but definitely the smallest of details. I find satisfaction in them. I try to gather strength.

  I try to talk to people when I am not too exhausted. I let him come close when I dare, he will maybe come on Monday and it's been a year since we met and that scares me. Do feelings perceive the distance or are we too lonely and desperate for some warmth that we let messages fly over electrical signals and travel for a few nights of shared life?

  Oh well, it is what it is. I let the relief overcome me.

Dead end

   I watched the snow melt outside, little by little, some of it preserves in nooks and corners here and there. I watched from my window and I did not budge, not until I had to make a new cup of tea. The pause has been necessary but it has not exactly been good. I manage to sleep more but every day is full of headaches - and the more time passes, the harder it is to put my mind in one singular action. I feel trapped. But that's not new: the problem is that I have no idea what to escape to. 

  I want to roll my eyes at my own thoughts at this point - I whine a lot and though I know that at this point the entire world is united in one united whining, I want to take a moment and step back and see beyond my shitty job and feelings of meaninglessness, what things do I have that I am grateful for?

For the apartment I live in: We have had a rocky start but I am putting effort in it and it has loyally provided me shelter.

The health of my loved ones.

The three loyal friends with whom I rarely ever talk.

The parents that try to love me as best as they can.

The man who will come to see me soon.

Actually, the few people who read this  blog: I have not kept up with numbers but some of you have stuck around for quite some time. I truly appreciate it.

The morning light.

My books.

These are all in all the core of what I am grateful for.  

I put one foot in front of the other. I mostly fall into puddles. I try to start again. I cry a lot at times. I try to take care of myself and am in full denial about it. My mind is still cluttered. I dislike the majority of the things I see around me and thus look inwards to see how I can perhaps start changing them from within.

I miss touching. The smell of orange blossoms - the feel of the wind on my face. The world is being deconstructed right under our feet and we're hovering, unsure of which way to move towards. But today, in this moment, I'm grateful for the precious things that amidst the chaos allow me the semblance of balance.

And I contemplate burning every screen I own.

This is an aimless post.