Footsteps and compasses

I see shimmers and blurs on the wall. I hear cracks and jitters from my speakers. All these ordinary things that you normally do not pay attention to when knowing that there are more important things. But right this very moment nothing is important to me, except the screen, the desk lamp and that trapped thought at the back of my head. I have one hundred sets of keys. I don’t think I have ever looked that dumbfounded in my life. I’m thinking of going to bed. I’d just end up stealing pretty key rings anyway and pretend I’ve spent a fortune on birthday presents.

Last Sunday when I was at Greenwich Park, chasing evil grey squirrels, I realized how stupid I looked. In general. It wasn’t because I was dressed in black, wearing my hood that resembled the grim reaper’s. It wasn’t because the cold had made my eyes water. I saw families. Kids and dogs. Elderly couples. Joggers. And more couples. More happy dogs and kids. I hated them all. There were also other girls who were alone, walking through the park. Most of them were either on the phone or had a clear idea of where they were heading to. I had no clue where I was at all. Suddenly I was up a hill, then back down and up again. My whole perception disintegrated into thin air and there were only my feet following footsteps into the unknown. Compasses are obsolete. When my senses came back, I began to give each beautiful tree a name.

For the last two weeks I’ve been setting my alarm for 7am to go to gym at about 8am. I find this is a good way to cut the nightmares short. There were more zombies, more shadows and mass extinction. No matter how you’re going to interpret this, I have to link these nightmares with my inborn impatience. Once I’ve done my job, the zombies will turn into humans, the shadows into light and the rest will come with survival guides. Once I’ve achieved that I will show you all my delicate fuck-finger and I’ll disappear someplace so I won’t ever have to see you again.

Sometimes I wish I could give up on my philosophy right away. Other people’s philosophy ‘treat people the way you want to be treated’ is the most preposterous thing that could ever cross anyone’s mind. Every third person comes up with this nonsense, which is why I have to stick with mine ‘treat people the way they deserve to be treated’; it allows you to retaliate. It gets boring gradually, though. I’d prefer not to treat anyone in any way.

Number 9 looks so human, so adventurous and so strong. The head looks so heavy, but it’s still standing…ready to walk anywhere.

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