A Soul Singer

The place had never been this quiet. The door bell had rung few a times but I didn’t check back.

I had awoken to an empty house. A few signs remained from the previous night’s intoxication. The movie had ended. I had fed the fish, watered the plants, washed some fruits, drank a yogurt.

Now, I had pressed play on a depressingly sad movie and had found myself reverting back to a dream state. A few more hours had gone by… I could do this, I thought. I could potentially sleep for days, weeks, months until everything was fine; until I find motivation, inspiration.

Guilt. It had been my first emotion of the day. Guilt over timely rejections, guilt over the strength of my emotions for a recently born story.

Hours had gone by again until I had found myself staring at the ceiling. The end credits had finished rolling, and the night had fallen. Again. Another day between us. It might have been the fact that there was not a sound echoing in my apartment, other than that of the ticking clock.

Avoidance. Second emotion of the day. Shall I sleep some more? Shall I rely on the medicine? Shall I put on another movie?

I had but many things to do to fix this and it involved putting on a poker face. And so I had gotten up and started working on my unfinished painting, unpaid bills…I ordered the food that I liked and played the music that I wanted. I did not even fix my hair. I tried to work but my typing got slower with the hours. I knew I can do this, but I kept stopping to sing the chorus – The play list  kept growing and the music was enticing. I was pretending to be just fine. And it was then, at 8:30, that it dawned on me.

I went out to take a stroll. As I sat there on a bench, facing the empty yard, I had tilted my head back a notch and let the breeze pass by. I had closed my eyes. It had been a soothing moment of bliss. I could pretend. I could easily imagine being elsewhere. Some small town with a skyline… 

As I write the next line, it appears to me that I cannot go emotional anymore and I must stop my thoughts and go back to sleep.

I build myself up and fly around in circles
Wait then – as my heart drops and my back begins to tingle
Finally could this be it?

– Adele (Chasing Pavements)


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