Monotony
‘I cleaned my house today’ (* it’s fairly cold out there. He looked frightened just then.)
I went to my tutorial this morning, but it was cancelled. I came home and did some cleaning. I vacuumed the hall and put a few of Luke’s things that were sitting around in the front room away so that they were less visible. I swept the floor. I remembered the times here with Luke and Chris. I imagined the blue couch and the television there in the front room, and then blinked the image away again. I thought about how ordinary things can become romantic simply because they are remembered.
Encouraged by the sight of a clean room, I tried to muster up a fierce determination to work, and went back to uni. I sat in the law library and was relieved that I was no longer anxious about what’s his name coming and tapping me on the shoulder. If he smiles, I’ll smile back. If he behaves badly, I’ll understand that he has made assumptions about what motivates me. I suppose that it was an experiment with the capacity that I have to undermine myself, as well as the ease with which one can create situations, both bad and good, with words. Obstacles add interest.
I tried to listen to my procedure lecture but was moaning after 30 minutes. I’m worried about my capacity to get through it because I’m not very focussed at all. I recited all the arguments in my head (*it’s your choice/we’re faced with choice all the time/he’ll come to understand what he should do on his own/he’s always complaining about something/much worse things are happening to people and they fuss much less). I met briefly with Clare. I had Coffee with Cindy. All this coffee with all these people all the time.
This evening, as I wandered through the rain and observed the dull yellow of the lights reflected in the puddles, I felt like I was wandering through the parts of a world that had been cleared out because of some grand emergency that I had not been told about. I was heading home again of course, but I wondered vaguely about why this should be so. I could have taken the car for a drive anywhere at all I suppose.
I feel like things have expired.
The puddles were deep. My feet really did get quite wet. That’s the problem with shoes like these. But that didn’t upset me as much as the feeling that everyone and everything had disappeared somewhere, and that I was uncertain of what it was that I should be missing.
I went to my tutorial this morning, but it was cancelled. I came home and did some cleaning. I vacuumed the hall and put a few of Luke’s things that were sitting around in the front room away so that they were less visible. I swept the floor. I remembered the times here with Luke and Chris. I imagined the blue couch and the television there in the front room, and then blinked the image away again. I thought about how ordinary things can become romantic simply because they are remembered.
Encouraged by the sight of a clean room, I tried to muster up a fierce determination to work, and went back to uni. I sat in the law library and was relieved that I was no longer anxious about what’s his name coming and tapping me on the shoulder. If he smiles, I’ll smile back. If he behaves badly, I’ll understand that he has made assumptions about what motivates me. I suppose that it was an experiment with the capacity that I have to undermine myself, as well as the ease with which one can create situations, both bad and good, with words. Obstacles add interest.
I tried to listen to my procedure lecture but was moaning after 30 minutes. I’m worried about my capacity to get through it because I’m not very focussed at all. I recited all the arguments in my head (*it’s your choice/we’re faced with choice all the time/he’ll come to understand what he should do on his own/he’s always complaining about something/much worse things are happening to people and they fuss much less). I met briefly with Clare. I had Coffee with Cindy. All this coffee with all these people all the time.
This evening, as I wandered through the rain and observed the dull yellow of the lights reflected in the puddles, I felt like I was wandering through the parts of a world that had been cleared out because of some grand emergency that I had not been told about. I was heading home again of course, but I wondered vaguely about why this should be so. I could have taken the car for a drive anywhere at all I suppose.
I feel like things have expired.
The puddles were deep. My feet really did get quite wet. That’s the problem with shoes like these. But that didn’t upset me as much as the feeling that everyone and everything had disappeared somewhere, and that I was uncertain of what it was that I should be missing.