catastrophe

am back from the hospital. feels like i came back from a gray labyrinth of consciousness.

i want to end all my relationships except with the people i love most. i want the person i’m thinking about to walk through the door. 
i want to go outside. i want to resolve all of these issues entirely right at this moment. 

my pasta tasted like undercooked ramen
i thought of one person
then i craved a cigarette

you can probably cook an egg on my burning forehead
and as usual, you can have your whites

i get polite texts from different numbers, and i think to myself, who are these people? are we as lonely as we make ourselves out to be because we are contagious. is there a psychological strain we crayon as walls around us. or are we just obeying the lifeboat problem. stay afloat. if you try to save too many people, you will drown. i read book one of 1Q84 without stopping. my eyes tearing profusely in protest. my back began to ache. i re-thought my posture. then i stopped. i thought of the person. i took a nap. dreamt of having a cigarette. woke up thinking. then craved a cigarette while i thought of this person.

"The taxi’s radio was tuned to a classical FM broadcast. Janáček’s Sinfonietta—probably not the ideal music to hear in a taxi caught in traffic. The middle-aged driver didn’t seem to be listening very closely, either. With his mouth clamped shut, he stared straight ahead at the endless line of cars stretching out on the elevated expressway, like a veteran fisherman standing in the bow of his boat, reading the ominous confluence of two currents. Aomame settled into the broad back seat, closed her eyes, and listened to the music." —opening lines of 1Q84

giving up on book two, i decided i've had enough for today.
objectively, i should stop craving for this person
and burn all my cigarettes

i've always believed that, as taught by my grandma, falling sick is a good thing because it shows that your life is changing and you need time alone, your body and mind needs time away from people, your natural surroundings, to prepare for this change. which is why i am never sad about being unwell. i've always looked forward to this new phase of my life, like a caterpillar going into hibernation, must be lonely, this caterpillar. but with such a promise of life after cocoon-hood, i would brave through this ordeal like you.

in the depths of pain—i find a flow of inspiration. i know this not to be a unique thought. putting pencil to paper, hailing the inevitable tortured writing, i realize that i had none; that not only was i not in pain, but that if i were, by confronting it—i had been truly liberated.

stats says there more readers lately
hello, and welcome
i hope i dont disappoint