January 16, 2007

One of these days…

Posted in English, Reflections at 9:31 am by Rou...

Sometimes I wake up in the morning with a completely undefined mood… An indifferent way of thinking that scares me to death… Today was one of those days…

The first thing that crossed my mind while opening my eyes in the morning was… “No! Not another working day! Oh God, why wouldn’t I just go up and leave… leave whatever… Work… Country… Life…!”  

I tried to throw these pessimistic thoughts away and got myself out of bed…

“My daily morning black Nescafe will make it…” I say to myself. “He’s brilliant; whosever invented this drink!” I thought, as the amazing familiar power rushes to my exploded head.  

As I moved to my bedroom again, I decided to wear something delightful today… for a change. I caught myself staring aimlessly in my clothes for more than 20 minutes, and since I didn’t want to spend half of the day in front of my drawers choosing an apparently delightful color, but yet an internally unpleasant one, so – as expected – I turned to my all times combination of blacks and blues and chose what to wear…

On my way to the outside door I pass by the living room, and with a stealthy glance I noticed the morning newspaper thrown carelessly on the floor… I took a second to lean down and pick it up, thought of reading it… then changed my mind, threw it on the couch and moved to the door again… well, the point is that I don’t read the morning papers anymore… In fact, I was never fond of reading newspapers in the first place… always thought that reality lies somewhere else, and believed that news with its real meaning lies in those streets we never walk in and if we ever thought of passing through them, we pass rapidly and have a quick look on them through our well-shut car windows!  

I stepped out of the apartment and pressed the elevator’s button to lift it up, and as I waited for it to arrive, I thought about not reading the morning papers again… well… it somehow did affect me I must say… I realized that sometimes I know about important events long after their occurrence… I hear about those incidents from people’s stories, and it makes me feel really ignorant sometimes, but I mockingly work around and use my previous experiences with the never-changing life episodes to get an average overview on what happened; after all it’s always the same play; only the players names change…  

I stepped into my car, and as I started its engine, the music started to flow… “I love music…” I thought. Sometimes I feel that music plays my life’s soundtrack; gives it its rhythm, plays the narrator’s role, and even attacks me with critiques and commentaries…

When somebody asks me about my hobbies I always reply with whatever I like except for music, and when one of my friends asked one day why don’t I ever mention music I replied “Because listening to music is not a hobby I have; it’s simply flowing into my blood, and I never exaggerate when I say that I find it hard to concentrate at work without music flowing to my brain…”

I love all kinds of music… some people find this weird, but I don’t see it from their view… I listen to all kinds of music, and every style has its favorite time… it’s that simple…

Sometimes while humming any of my favorite songs I get the feeling that I have a beautiful voice, and that I can get the right tone, but soon enough I consider it hallucinations resulting from my overabundance addiction to music, yet this never prevented me from singing for hours in my room while staring at my mirror… J

I arrived in front of the gloomy dull building, stepped off my car, entered the building, and took the elevator up to the forth floor… walked through the partitions till I reached mine, stared at my irksome screen, then picked up my copybook and started writing…

Why am I writing this…? I have no clue…

May be I just wanted to make sure that I’m still alive if I saw my handwriting…

May be I just wanted to make sure that I still breathe… still dream… still enjoy whatever I used to enjoy…

May be I just wanted to read anything that reminds me of myself… remind me of what I felt, dreamt, and loved… anything that reminds me of my desires, pains, and needs…

I’m not sure why I wrote this… all I know is that I felt better after I wrote it…

And this is all I need to know for now…

I’m hoping for the better…

 

Rou…

 

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