2nd Jan, ’15 8:15 A.M
The sum is new each day. –Heraclitus
I wake up with a feeling of a heavy load of a comforter over the blanket I remember sleeping only at night. My mum tries to be extra sure that I do not catch cold at night; this is a habit of hers that I remember since forever. I adjust my pillow and sit back, and it is only now that I notice that the air is thick with the aroma of scented incense sticks, another habit of my mother. The first thing that I do, which I believe every second person living in this century does, is check my social media accounts and quickly go through the notification that range from someone asking me where I got my top from to a set of ‘Happy New Year’s that still haven’t stopped pouring in. Ugh, still?
I keep my tablet aside and sit on the bed, rather uncomfortable because of the comforter (but it is warm and cozy so I really don’t have a reason to complain) and think about everything. All at once. But the first thing that comes to my mind is what my blog post should be (every daily bloggers’ thought!) I scroll through my mind to see what fits; I can review the new products that I got, or I can go out and interview that designer that’s been pending since a month, or I can put some makeup on my brother and upload pictures, or dye my hair (I have been meaning to do it for quite some time now), or I can… I spend 15 minutes rejecting a whole set of ideas of what I could post. I eventually rest with Things I’m Loving post. Just as soon as I decide it, an exhilarating twinge courses through my bone and suddenly I am fresh as a new bloomed flower.
I scan my room for my laptop.
I post my blog and it still feels like it did on the first day. It’s always exciting to press the publish button and then just as soon as the feeling came, it is replaced with the sense of what I am going to post tomorrow.
There is always this things that is always on my mind: what should I post next? Does not really haunt me (yet) but people who know me up close feel I am getting too worked up.
You will find me with my notebook and pen on cold, rainy days hurdled too deep under the blanket. I jot down the ideas that could amount to my next blog post (you can say I’m going a bit down the obsession alley). My sister texts me to tell how one of her friends’ likes the post I did yesterday and got a new lipbalm on my recommendation. Things like these always make me feel that my blog has a meaning and is, in fact, being read.
I finally decide to do nail paint swatches tomorrow, then keep my notebook aside and cuddle with my Guinea Pigs.
While everyone is having tea and talking too loud, I cringe as I try to type on my laptop. There is this manuscript I started way back when I was in High School and that I soon want to publish.
I give up when I can’t concentrate anymore and voices get even louder. I feel out of work, a little useless at this moment. I get up and walk into the kitchen, hunting some food.
Lately I have been feeling more alone than ever, it bugs me. I have always been the girl living in my fantasies and having someone to talk to me only makes as much sense as breathing. I sigh, then push back the thought.
Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better. –Henry Rollins