Practice

Profound (or not) thoughts #1

These days, other people's lives seem so much more interesting than mine. I'm not talking about people I know personally, I'm speaking about the many blogs I read. Their lives are creative. Recently, I have been lacking the creative streak I used to have. Nevertheless I still crave it. In fact, I crave this more than ever before. I guess I am in this predicament due to the time of the year it is. A time where I feel guilty if I am not thinking about studying. But then again, I procrastinate to a point where my guilt overpowers me and makes me lazy. I am unsure whether anyone would be able to understand this.

I have been trying to savour life. I have been trying to use my five senses wherever I can. I try to commit certain scenes to memory, and collect scents that will pinpoint certain moments. A spring night with little movement besides from the wind in the olive branches from my bedroom window. The smell of chimney smoke next door mixed with unblemished air.

Wind has been consuming my thoughts at time of boredom. I write only the truth. As I sat outside two evenings ago, the wind made soft rivals with my hair. The wind has no structure, it dances freely wherever it please and it comes and goes in a spontaneous manner. Yet, it is vital. It holds a purpose, and it doesn't care whether people want it present or not. It most certainly has a mind of its own, but it does its job, and does it well. I want to be like wind. I want to be wind.

Last night I went to a little 'alternative' bar. Major Toms. To be quite frank, it was awkward as hell. Old fifty-year-old men called us fourteen. We were stared at as if we were not welcome. I do sound very sour, but honestly, I disliked the atmosphere. Why does age have to be a barrier here where I live. Why can't everyone just accept the fact that we're not kids anymore. Well... to an extent I might add.