To desire everything and nothing at once
I’ve managed to work an extra 36 hours in the past two weeks. My spirit is tired. Waking up at seven, leaving the office at five, then back in front of my monitor in my room-turned-office at eight. Watching a slice-of-life Chinese drama (Story of Ming Lan) and reading shoujo manga in between and I’ve managed to fill the vacant seconds with things — to do, to pay attention to. It’s dangerous, sometimes, to be in a tea party with only me and myself.
But there are still minutes, like the walk from the house to the station or the bus stop to the house, where I’m left alone with my thoughts. Without work or stories to distract from the memories that prod the scabs on my heart — it’s exactly like my skin eczema — I’m always subconsciously scratching on the thoughts of people, of something I don’t have.
In those free moments, I’ve been imagining my characters and their stories. I’ve picked up writing early in January and I’ve been playing out imaginary conversations, hypothetical situations, and non-existent relationships. Sometimes, they are what-could-have-been’s. While reading manga, I conjure scenes of friendships that endured. They are nice, and those moments make me wistful.
To desire everything
It’s not like the past hurts — those small wounds have scabbed over, after all. I just accidentally pick on my skin. I’ve been resigned, for a while now, of people that have come and gone. I’m not thinking things could be different for myself. I wake up every day, live another day. Life is like that.
I wonder if this is something I’ll bury with me when I die.
The past is past, but today I thought, I must truly have been such a rotten person for two friends I kept close to reject me like that. I must have been disliked a lot.
at once and to desire it
Nowadays I’m not close enough with anyone to feel rejected, or betrayed. No shared moments, or special memories. Everything is as expected. Everything is okay.
all the time