Labour Day

I don't even know where to start. I'm here because over the years I have been trained to think that typing on the laptop or the sound produced from it makes me feel useful and productive. I still carry my journal wherever I go but the pen just doesn't fit like it used to anymore. Aren't we all up for alternatives eh.

It's labour day today - bullshit. I woke up without the alarm this morning. I let my body wriggle and stretch under the four blankets of different textures and with the AC turned on at 16 degrees, it sure felt good. I love mornings like these, even the smell of the cold room gets to me. My favourite is looking at the sun peeping through the blinds. Mum's still asleep beside me. I had in mind that I could get up, go downstairs and sit under the sun outside or I could stay in bed. I have no idea what today's going to be like. How can we know, really?

After snuggling under covers while texting Sarah after what seemed forever, I went to the store room next door to get a bag. A handbag. I emptied my belongings from the current one and transferred them to the one I just took out. It's bigger! For months my eyes fixated from the straps to the bulge in the center of my Charles & Keith. My mind would make circles looking at myself filling the bag with stuff until the cover couldn't fulfill its purpose, imagining its weight. Am I going to fill the bag until the straps are not able to withhold the weight? I stare at it obsessively hoping that they would snap, I stare it at it waiting for my hands to rip the bag apart. Let its will be done! I imagine a thunderous burst of pleasure to fill my heart and I see that happen, my heart will continue to pulsate morbidly. The feeling has returned. Over the years I have thought about my obsession to spread lipstick on my white shirt, walk barefoot on the road outside, and paint outside the drawn lines. When will this ever end. When will the itch ever stop. So I changed bags to get a piece of mind.

They say if you're aware of it, you're on the right path. Maybe I am. My days are spent trying to do good things as much as possible. I wake up each day with the best intentions, just wished I had better control of the unknown. It doesn't even make sense doesn't it. I'm thankful though for the people who have stuck with me, mood swings, brokenness and all. People who have offered themselves as a 24-7 journal entry. People who have allowed me to completely be myself. And Sarah, I love her. She has been nothing short of amazing and I cannot thank God enough.

So please universe, show me a sign that things will get better. Let me know if I can do anything more. I'm not giving up yet.