It’s a week of um, new experiences for me. In which it leaves me no time to write anything at all, which may be a bad thing because to me writing fuels my soul. If I’m not writing I would at least channel a bit of my thoughts in social media (read: Insta Stories) or some other thing. There’s just literally nothing I want to tell stories about, my night time now spent chasing deadlines. While they utilise my creative brain, they do not nourish my thirsty-for-writing self.
So tonight I am not touching my work at all. I’m not giving up neither am I complaining. I am simply taking a break. Went shopping today too and ate at three different restaurants. While walking on my own a line of a poem strung, but in my meta-thinking “Oh so I need to walk to be able to be poetic!” I forgot what the line was. We’ll try to make up an on-the-spot stanza. After this I’m going to do another work that’s not paid but something I’ve always wanted to do. Let’s try to find the poem that was lost somewhere in the aisles of cosmetics earlier today:
They tried to show me what happiness means
smiles, laughs, togetherness, decision-making,
matching tees, fondness, offspring
as evidences to how miserable I must feel.
Almost believed them I did,
almost looking around too, God-forbid.
Then I laughed it off when I heard my voice:
This was my choice!
I rejoiced. Their happy, I can chew,
but what I swallow, is only You.