Welcome to my Monday morning.
I am not tending to scented candles today nor am I convincing the general public that they should smell a particular way in exchange for an excessive amount of money.
Instead, I am tending to my own scented candles and convincing myself to do a 10-minute Yoga For Shoulders And Back Tension (10mins) - Yoga With Adrienne. My tea is becoming lukewarm*, computer screen becoming blurred and moving, and my upper body muscles to be more knotted and tense. My convincing takes time.
My Tuesday (3 in the) Morning welcomes you.
I cant tell if the day derailed from me after yoga or went into auto pilot: I was a good level of productive, social and solitary, i rested and ate and slept at unconventional times. it was nice and incredibly boring.
The moon is full now or near about. There is a small jar on my dresser with sage and salt and basil and bay leaf, cinnamon and a name. A few weeks ago the jar had some grams of miso paste in it that kept my immune system and nostalgia and dopamine safe. The VERY authentic Christmas Twine on the rim of the bottle is saturated with a pale purple wax for divinity, and its her favourite.
To be able to sleep almost on command would feel like less of a skill and more of a shield against, well anything, it feels like a skill now.
This Friday morning i am fine
the fine i tell my nan when she calls or the fine i say to my friends if they ask how my day is going. And the fine i say to my loved one when they ask how i slept last night.
Fine is a lie, I'm not fine nor have i been fine in a while. the world is on fire and my brain is on fire and my mail makes me want to set myself on fire. i want to set myself on fire then maybe i can say a little more than im fine.
Theres a full moon in cancer and its been 2 years since my world ended. it kept turning and sometimes i believe i entered a new one. i don't have ,my home or my friends or my family or myself and that's okay. its fine. Today i will make a list, i will tidy my room i will walk to the doctors and to the grocers and back home and i will wash my hair because i will let it grow no matter how scared i am to see the strands get longer.
I will be fine.
YOU ARE READING
I Will Write When I Feel Like It
PuisiThis is going to be more of an ongoing narrative rather than an intentional piece of fiction. Its still a story though i suppose. I am 24
