Morning to the world.
Funny, I clicked on the post link and then I just completely ignored my computer and decided that cleaning would be a better idea.
I just wrote the most shitty essay ever. It's a rough draft, thank fuck, but it's still horrible. But I don't care.
All I can hear in my head are two, maybe three things. The first one is a suite mate of mine stating that I need my R.E.M. sleep. The second on is Ela, who I have been listening to on MySpace for maybe three hours now (they are really good). The third is the little thing in my head that tells me to get off the computer, clean the rest of the room, remember to print out the essay and the other's essay and my Japanese homework that I never seem to want to do in the day time.
I found some light this morning, listening to this band and talking to people and now, in the sounds of this particular song and the clicking of the keyboard, I'm really at my most content. I'm not happy or sad, or blah.
I'm not even indescribable. My body is calm, relaxed as it's splayed out about my desk. I have one foot propped on a plank of wood under a bed post, my body is slouched and my computer is balancing precariously over the edge of my desk. There is an unsweetened English breakfast tea in a perfectly simple mug sitting to my right, seeping in its essence. There are papers everywhere around me; on my printer, my walls, my desk, my corkboard... everywhere. There are tea packages and splenda packets scattered on my desk, and I feel like everything I need is right here... except for one thing.
All I need is a body sleeping haphazardly across my bed, tangled in my blankets and completely okay with light and sound and my quiet staring as they sleep.
And I thought I killed my hopeless romantic long ago. I guess not.
I just wrote the most shitty essay ever. It's a rough draft, thank fuck, but it's still horrible. But I don't care.
All I can hear in my head are two, maybe three things. The first one is a suite mate of mine stating that I need my R.E.M. sleep. The second on is Ela, who I have been listening to on MySpace for maybe three hours now (they are really good). The third is the little thing in my head that tells me to get off the computer, clean the rest of the room, remember to print out the essay and the other's essay and my Japanese homework that I never seem to want to do in the day time.
I found some light this morning, listening to this band and talking to people and now, in the sounds of this particular song and the clicking of the keyboard, I'm really at my most content. I'm not happy or sad, or blah.
I'm not even indescribable. My body is calm, relaxed as it's splayed out about my desk. I have one foot propped on a plank of wood under a bed post, my body is slouched and my computer is balancing precariously over the edge of my desk. There is an unsweetened English breakfast tea in a perfectly simple mug sitting to my right, seeping in its essence. There are papers everywhere around me; on my printer, my walls, my desk, my corkboard... everywhere. There are tea packages and splenda packets scattered on my desk, and I feel like everything I need is right here... except for one thing.
All I need is a body sleeping haphazardly across my bed, tangled in my blankets and completely okay with light and sound and my quiet staring as they sleep.
And I thought I killed my hopeless romantic long ago. I guess not.