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Of ik dit laat staan weet ik nog niet, vandaag geschreven, het steekt nog niet lekker inelkaar maar vanavon dgeen tijd meer om meer woorden dr in te zetten en de boel rechtzetten ach... kweetniet. sommige stukjes missen nog. Anyway, ik zou graag advies willen?
[Geen titel]
It’s blurry, what used to be little movies, pieces of important information, now are fragments of, I don’t exactly know what… Like photographic memory, but all in tiny little movies, frames of people, and places and things. It’s so hard, trying to remember what happened the other night, or nights I don’t exactly know. Concentrating doesn’t help, I imagine me being there clutching my phone, or was it my phone? And staring at my reflection, what was I clutching, I don’t recall. Damn. I wasn’t wearing a coat but I was cold, my phone was in my coat, okay fine not the phone then.
It just doesn’t work, what they tell me doesn’t match with the pictures in my head. Too much alcohol and too much of nothing, I’m so tired but my head won’t go asleep.
Tired, I awake with the same thoughts, like it all never changed it’s just a different number on the calendar; I guess it’s called reality.
Today I have to wake up, I told myself, I can’t be tired and I have to do what I want and what I’m pushing myself to, I just somehow never do.
Go to school and work, pay attention, don’t zone out, but it never works. What used to be amazing self control, in body and in mind seems to have completely vanished, vanished where?
I drank too much that night, I know…. But was it really all that much? That blurry reflection on the mirror must have really been me, but I don’t remember…
And how did I get home, how! For heaven’s sake somebody tell me, it’s driving me insane.
Slowly she looks up in the mirror, water still dripping down her cheeks, it might as well have been tears; not like you notice the difference, unless you lick. Wait, no time for thinking stuff like that.
Today I am me, just like who I used to be, or what I remember from that time.
It seems so long ago, agonizingly long, too long to really remember. God, what happened to my brains, were they mushed to squats or what?
Slowly she dries her hands on the towel, and tries to avoid looking at the steamed up mirror again.
All it really does is annoy her, confront her, not that confronting is a bad thing but not now, just not now, not yet.
She unlocks the door and slowly makes way back to the room, her room, she hasn’t really been in it much so it might of well have been the room of a stranger. Is that how much she’s changed?
...
A strange expression appears on her face as she counts the stones, little collectibles from other places and history, one looking much like an arrow head. She picks it up and let’s her fingers run over the edges, not sharp at all, she wonders if it ever was. Her face goes blank and she shrugs, no time for mesmerizing over that kind of stuff. There’s more important things to think about, while yanking old torn pants from under the bed.
Ick, when were those last washed, must have been some while ago. And while opening the closet she quickly rids of an armsfull of dirty clothes in an already overfull basket. ‘Should get rid of that soon’ she thinks as she picks out a nicer outfit, make-up or none? I vote yes, but not now no time, the bathrooms at school will have to do…
Laatst gewijzigd op 10-04-2003 om 02:34.
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