Time is made when you stitch together moments you’d otherwise have whiled away Daydreaming, biting your nails thinking of nothing, exploring areas your life that are hard to get at, stick snapshots of your childhood along the walls of the dark tunnel as a reminder of a time that you would like to go back to, not to change anything, but to experience bitter-sweet things, things you wish you could bring back : like the first guy you held hands with, the Birthday-parties you cut cakes in with both parents holding your hands, the evening you spent playing monopoly with your sister, the times you wish you could grow up faster not realising its a trap (cliché-gun) and Sunday mornings without a care of laundry, pending assignments or budgets (so metropolitan).
Nostalgic cupcakes. Exploding in my head. I’m playing all these slow core songs even as I clear my throat in the morning cold. I smell a hint of my perfume mixed with the vapour-rub and it reminds me of mother?
I have to pick myself up for class. Thinking about it sitting here, itself, makes me want to dive right back into the bed. I know I won’t find any sleep now. I want coffee flowing warm in my throat and the sunlight to touch my temples.
I’m thinking about nothing else, really. I have sketched a few elaborate ideas that are a continuation from previous design class. I know they’ll have thicker rolls when we enter class. I living up to my satisfaction of having progressed and no comparison. Because well,that’s just going to bring someone down. I can hear a hair-dryer being used at a distance. And doors banging. Class is at 0830 and attendance beckons. To a day full of light? Or longing to be back? I know naught. Here ends my morning musing.