a night in (disorderly) prose


While being drowned in a wave of taunting thoughts about my short and long term goals, my future and life I just sat in the corner. Completely mute with eyes wide-open. The chaos in my head was in a perfect harmony with the terrible condition of the room. Or, in this case, something that resembles a place after a devastating earthquake. Clothes and other belongings lying everywhere: chairs, table, shelves, closet door, but not the floor. The floor must always stay clean that is my rule. So you could say that my room had been playing a messy version of the floor is lava. A disaster in the head equals the disaster around, no doubts about that.

Yet, I do not feel bad about myself staying inside the whole week, procrastinating and just being in full introversion mode. It has been raining all the time. Apparently, it is summer now, but I do not see it anywhere. If June means incredibly strong wind, endless rain and gloominess then I might stay in here a bit longer. I mean, I do have a great excuse to wear my hoodies, warm socks and drink tea non-stop while burning apple and cinnamon candles. Just like in autumn, only the leaves are growing, not falling. But even at this moment of chaos and fear I can relax by listening to the raindrops hitting my window, the wind blowing through the trees outside, people’s feet splashing the puddles. Truly mesmerizing and better than the burning sun, humidity and never ending sweat.

The clock is telling me that the dawn is soon to come, but I am still awake. I cannot sleep. Too many thoughts in my brain and too much energy in the body. Thus, I am running around the room, cleaning and packing. Just cleaning and packing. The urge to cry and drop everything is tronger than ever but I do not stop, simply skip to the next song. And why do I have so much depressing emo crap on my SanDisk? Only after reaching some light pop songs the process of cleaning can carry on quietly…

And yet another rainy morning arrives. A morning of new disappointments and joys, but same procrastination and cosy laziness.


2 Replies to “a night in (disorderly) prose”

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