in slumber

we talk, we laugh, we stub out our cigarettes on cold grey concrete tables and then we get up and leave. i feel cold because the cold stone benches have left imprints of the cold on my thighs. otherwise, i do not. i rarely feel cold anymore these days. even when i do, i shrug off the thought of wearing a cardigan, the thought of going through all that trouble, just to warm myself, seems inconsequential. why go to all that trouble just to ensure my own comfort? creature comforts, they just don't seem that important to me anymore. living is just a mere inconvenience - the very thought of having to wake up in the mornings, put on my make-up and go about my daily mundane tasks - the very thought just bores me. put me through endless meetings and the shoving of information down my system, the involuntary retch and fight against the ideals that are pushed across to me everyday, on a daily basis, nothing ever excites me anymore.

i've spent many days huddling under the comforters. in the comfort of my own room, i dwelled. the parents were away, so i had the whole house to myself. i padded around in nothing but my underwear and bedroom slippers. mornings meant i got up, brushed my teeth, opened the door to pick up the newspapers, accquainted myself with the obituraries - how very morbid a way to start the day. i'd look and gaze at 70 something men and women and wonder about their deaths and wonder if like what my father had said - those with the bible verses "i have fought a good fght" printed above their photographs really did die of cancer. i stared at thirty something men and wondered why they never had the chance to get married and what would happen to their wives and children, if there were any indicated below. i browsed through the business section, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone's name, but sadly, i never did. i skimmed through the home section, boring myself to death with details of gory accidents, news on huge corporations going to court for a variety of reasons and wondered about life going on while mine stopped.
i'd gaze out of the windows and stare at the bright morning sun till waves of multi-coloured spots wavered before me and i felt the ground move. then, shading my eyes from the sun, i had to sit and rest before i passed out.

under the covers was the best part of each day for me. i didn't feel sleepy, but i just felt the need to get away from the world and to just fall into slumber was the easiest way to do it. so i would close my eyes and lie under the comforter, no matter how hot it was, i always buried myself under the comforter and waited for sleep to consume me. it became easier each time i tried to fall asleep. i didn't even need my comfort source - the yellow pill designated to be take for flu - you taught me that. you who now are gone from my life and is heard of no more.
some days i just call your phone late at night and listen to your voice on the automated voicemail. i've never left a message before though. it wouldn't be my style.
strangely, now that you've not called and you've probably gotten the message, i feel lonely. i wish you were still calling me and messaging me and then i'd know that you perhaps remembered me at least.

that in some obscure corner of the world,
i might linger in a figment of your thoughts.
that in your unlined sleep,
i may slip in
as a shadow of a memory of a dream

i remember running 5km on the treadmill in the gym. no easy feat for a self-professed non gym bunny, but i made it, 2 days in a row. i felt as though i was trying to run as fast as i could, away from myself. and when i got tired, it perhaps stopped me from thinking further. perhaps that's why my body gave up on me. i needed the respite.

my tattoos and ear-holes. i never liked having them, but i felt the need for them. or, correction, not the need for them, but perhaps, i felt the need to go through the process of it. the pain. pain is important. maybe someday, laser can work to erase all my marks.

essentially, i hate looking forward to things, because time, ultimately, just passes you by, no matter how enjoyable the moment, like a slap in the face, like a yell of jubilation - there! the moment's gone and you won't be able to relive it! and if things don't match up, then it pretty much ruins everything else from there.

my huddled brain's too tired to think further. guess i'm better off in slumber.