It’s supposed to be like any other Monday, looking forward to Wednesday (the start of the weekend)
But something is a little off- something is circulating in the atmosphere, and it’s not the remnant s of the pungent varnish from the day before, no it’s something far more egregious, and it’s looming in the dark like a thief…
It’s those malign dreams; an emotional contagion to my very being… Their nightly visits have plagued my daily life…
“Why can’t you roam around unfettered into someone else’s world?!” I command my notional friend,
“Common there must be someone else’s life you would sure love to place in a state of disarray.”
It’s not the time; it’s the middle of the week- it’s not even the time to be writing a blog…
“Celine did you send the e-mail?” – Shit, I forgot.
“Hope this email finds you well… please find attached…”
It’s summer- lighten up the spirits, slip into your summer skin (or as my friend says, Summer Sin)
Why do we have to keep reminding ourselves to be happy? To be satisfied? To be content? To be human?
See the vagaries…
Oh, yes the email, “…awaiting your approval and feedback before taking action.”
I’m taking action! I’m dumping you, I’m leaving you to curl up in the dark corner where you belong, I am resisting you and your kind; as intransigent as you think you are, you are no match to my strength.
Rot away, and let me blossom…
Let me wax and wane with the summer moon and dance with the summer stars, let me breathe in the Mediterranean breeze and exhale the nicotine smoke-
Let my smile be a smile and not a forced crack of the mouth, and let my eyes glisten to the reflection of camera flashes and not drown in held back tears. So please, don’t RSVP on my summer stroll, I can live without you for a month or may be even more…
It’s not just dreams anymore, oh no, it is far more…
But it’s still Monday, so let’s get back into the monotone.
1 comment:
I read this in a rush a couple of days ago, while i was washed over in Monday monotone. On Wednesday though, I can see the technicolor again, and immerse myself in the summer sin for a weekend, or a week, or a month.
It's not the dream that we want to banish, it's the truth. The dream has begun and we're already living it, but it's the fear of not if, but when we wake up.
Banish reality, and he will come back as a rude awakening in the form of an alarm you never really set, but the time bomb you triggered long ago.
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