It was a good day in my mind. In my own little attic upstairs. Safe enough to take a step outside without worry. Am I calm enough to sit still through an entire meeting? Sometimes it feels like I’m playing along in a simulation. A puppet-show fairytale where I work in a big store that keeps running and will continue long after I’m gone. If I stop playing along.
It’s the comfortable safety of familiarity and ingrained routines. The worries about wasting time in my youth are gone. Now, it’s worries about aging parents and not being quite old enough yet to be comfortable making miniature houses. The period between being in your thirties and slowly turning forty. There are only so many days in a year; spend them well. Oops, here I go again.
I spoke too soon; the heaviness pulls at me like a toddler tugs at the bottom of my coat. ‘Are you coming, sir?’. My parents raised me well and properly. Too bad that it feels like something went wrong somewhere. Maybe they raised me too properly, and over the years, I tried to restore the balance by pushing back. Sometimes I crawled through the eye of the needle. Fortunately, I’m good at embroidery, thanks to my mom.
Sunny inside. It was a good day in my mind. I’m not missing any past friends, family, or exes. Everyone’s wrapped up in an endless argument that I haven’t been a part of for years. I never ran from confrontations, only from abysmal situations. I try not to lose the rest of myself anymore. I was licorice, and everyone stared at me, licking their lips with the tar-black corners of their mouths. Ready for more. Stop it, or you’ll get sick.
Tell me that I am not just my fears and shortcomings. That is all heavy, empty-minded crap. Tell me I am enough. For you, for me, and for us. I open the windows and let the fresh air stroke my hamster’s cheeks. As fresh as the air can be in the city. Ignorance is bliss. I make a cup of strong coffee to kickstart my mind. To open my eyelids like roller blinds.
It’s a good day in my mind, in my little attic. Time to go outside.