Friday night. I should be someplace else but I didn't feel like flying away this weekend. Or did I? I was torn till the very last minute, booking a ticket and then thinking things over. I'm not gonna get smashed this weekend. I'm not gonna be half-dead on Monday morning. I want to chill. On the other hand, I'm not gonna see friends. Any friends, for that matter.
Plans, plans.
Than a phone rings and it really doesn't matter that I missed the plane. Temptation is everywhere. I just need to think things over.
31 May 2008
25 May 2008
Weekend
As much as I'm trying to live so-called decent life, sometimes it just doesn't work out. Friday evening, I'm reading work materials at home, making sure I'm getting paid for a reason. I'm even taking notes so I'll have a clue what to comment in the meeting next week.
Saturday's totally different. I'm out of town kicking it on some balcony, sun is chopping me to pieces. It's alright, I don't mind. Having one after another, there's seemingly unlimited supply. Puffing on, puffing my life away. There's nothing to think about when a credit card and a stylishly rolled one dollar banknote appear on a table. Out of nowhere, as usually.
Flow of words is never-ending, hours are gone in a blink. Changing places, changing cities, talking too much, remembering nothing. How easy.
It's too late at night, I'm sitting at home, browsing Internet chat rooms, yakking with other owls, mechanically chewing a gum until it's... 11 am. At twelve I'm having a squash game on.
If this is my very last post, don't worry. It was fun. No regrets.
Saturday's totally different. I'm out of town kicking it on some balcony, sun is chopping me to pieces. It's alright, I don't mind. Having one after another, there's seemingly unlimited supply. Puffing on, puffing my life away. There's nothing to think about when a credit card and a stylishly rolled one dollar banknote appear on a table. Out of nowhere, as usually.
Flow of words is never-ending, hours are gone in a blink. Changing places, changing cities, talking too much, remembering nothing. How easy.
It's too late at night, I'm sitting at home, browsing Internet chat rooms, yakking with other owls, mechanically chewing a gum until it's... 11 am. At twelve I'm having a squash game on.
If this is my very last post, don't worry. It was fun. No regrets.
17 May 2008
Dreaming
She was so little. And so cute. Spoke a language I could not understand a single word of. Her deep black eyes made me wonder. What if. What if I wanted to spend three hours on a plane as often as possible. And learn a foreign language. Could I do that? Was it just a dream?
I drew her a map and she seemed to be interested. We talked and had a laugh. She told me a bit about the country, about the city and about the ocean. Plus her favourite football team. And I wondered.
We swapped business cards. Maybe I'll be buying a ticket soon.
Or not. One tends to be forgetting quickly and easily, exhausted by everyday existence, by so-called responsibilities and unavoidable commitments. Yet it's still great to dream.
I drew her a map and she seemed to be interested. We talked and had a laugh. She told me a bit about the country, about the city and about the ocean. Plus her favourite football team. And I wondered.
We swapped business cards. Maybe I'll be buying a ticket soon.
Or not. One tends to be forgetting quickly and easily, exhausted by everyday existence, by so-called responsibilities and unavoidable commitments. Yet it's still great to dream.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)