Category: Weekly state (Page 3 of 26)

Fatty fragrance hits my nose and I am stunned.

The guys in causal workwear, not even sure if they work here, ignore the beeps. What else is there to do if there’s nothing but beeps?

The alcohol has led to an epidemic. It is almost 2 in the morning and carbs are in need. What is usually regarded as trash is happily consumed. We are at the epitome of making ourselves happy.

Beeping of all kinds fills the room, making no one nervous but promising sweet relief for those in need of deep fried, frozen goods.

Sweet relief of salty pleasures tickle mu stomach. Heaven for a few minutes for the mishaps of the night.

Beep beep.

I know what’s coming and it repulses me. I love it.

Night leaves a few choices and I am not sure whether I am making the right one. Hello carbs, goodbye stomach.

Beep beep.

I am getting comfortable in the seat as I make my way back home.

There’s many places I call home, sometimes it is even just the company I am with. The only necessary and essential component is driving.

Are you ever home when there is no period of anticipation in between setting off to home and arriving? I need the nervousness in my stomach, the jiggly sensation of restlessness, the imagination of what is expecting me.

I envision people and places, past moments and what’s about to come. I am sweetly suffering because of the fact I still have hours to go.

The only relief is the knowledge of getting ever closer to making new memories.

Thanks for driving me.

He who jumps into the void owes no explanation to those who watch.

The days are getting lighter and my cloud is one of the few ones in the sky. I am not bound to the physical realm, as you know. Willingly, I share your burden as humans though, sometimes. It is in these times that I try to dare to leap. Where to? I am not so sure myself these weeks. But it surely feels like remaining (calmly) in a state of falling.

Will the landing be soft? I am not sure, I guess it depends on what happens in a void. Is there any landing at all? A truly philosophical discussion may start here. So what do I do? There’s just the option to stay in the same position, adapt to the wind, making tiny adjustments. There’s nothing much more that you can do in the fall.

So this week all that you can hear is my skin fluttering in the wind, loose flaps of my coat making noises as if they were suffering. I can assure you, they are not.

Maybe you are looking down, seeing me become smaller and smaller. Maybe you’ve found your own void. I’d certainly recommend it for a bit.

It’s quiet in here.

Sometimes all it takes is something else in front of you.

I have been roaming galleries, a new obsession with squeaking floorboards, silent whispers and perfectly humidified rooms. I am joking of course. Real pleasure lies in looking at the walls. They are decorated with pictures that someone painted for you to see, ideally sparking interest in observers for eternity. Very ambitious if you ask me. Some of them haven’t even seen their fame bloom to full extent, how tragic.

While I roam the gigantic rooms that leave plenty of space for your thoughts, I am beginning to seclude myself. I dive into contemplation, escaping from physical into the spiritual. The mind is occupied and the body rests.

My eyes rest on the colours and shapes and I wonder how many others have thought the same way about this canvas. I sit down, nay, I float in front of it. Cross-legged I have managed to escape burdens, at least I think I did.

I return outside, cold wind reminds me of reality. The real world isn’t perfectly humidified.

I escaped for a moment. But what’s it worth if nobody knows?

So here I am, telling you. About my great escape.