Ever been in a space where you just leave a big incoherent mess behind for a long period of time, wherever you go? I am often here. In this state.
There’s no closing the loop, no coming to terms, no finalising the project. Just an endless coming apart at the seams. And any ounce of motivation for cleaning up evades me. The very unfortunate thing about this; it shows.
It shows in an unmade bed,
Dishes piling in the sink,
An angry amount of weight gain,
An ever-diminishing social life,
Obsessions over people who have long moved on
The same stain on the wall your last visitor made 3 months ago that you keep as proof of social existance and a good time
And then, all of a Sunday, it’s not winter anymore. The sun hits you different in the eyeball. You feel yourself unfreeze. You can expose your meat suit for long enough to arch your back like a graceful bridge, push your hands forward, into your bedsheets, stretch your legs out behind you, push yourself up toward the ceiling, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.
You make your bed
You wash the dishes
You put on music
You make a reservation for 2, at least
at last
You are a grateful human.