stripped bare

Just another day.

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The glare from the window hurt my eyes, waking me up. I silently cursed the curtains for being useless, failing to register so early in the morning, that I had intentionally left the curtains drawn to let the morning sun pinch me awake. A sleepy groan and a frown later, I turned my body to its side and slid off the bed, most reluctantly. Floating to the window, I swung it open and took a deep breath of the air outside, taking in the intoxicating scent of wet grass. With my arms leaning on the ledge, I watched the traffic for a while. A morning ritual.

Turning around, I took a last lingering look at my soft inviting bed, pushed back the noren hanging above me and went out into the living room. I switched on the 46″ Bravia sitting silently on the console. MTV – by default. Sinking into the sofa, I let the music vibrate into my system. Eyes closed, I felt it course through my body, toes first, then fingertips, then my scalp, before rushing into my brains. Wide awake now, I stood up and walked into the bathroom.

I like spending a long time in the shower in the mornings. Mixer tugged to full blast, I let the hot water scald my entire body. Sanitizing. When I step out of the shower, I want to feel the cold air hitting me like a slap on the face. Squealing, I would then run into my room to get dressed. The next few minutes would be like blurry fast-forwards. Slipping into a skirt, pulling a top over my head of dripping wet hair, slapping stuff onto my face, grabbing my bag … exhaling only when I’m downstairs, waiting for a cab.

“Morning. Holland Village. PIE, Adam Road, thanks.” Fatigue consumed me once I settled down in the backseat. I closed my eyes and wished my dizziness away. Sleep has been eluding me these days. Even if I slept, I’d wake up even more tired, as if I’ve been doing marathons in my dreams. In them, I climbed ladders, I crawled on all fours, I ransacked derelict houses, I overturned rocks… Looks like sleeping drains me more than it nourishes me.

What exactly am I looking for?



Written by smudgi3

August 11, 2006, Friday at 14:50

Posted in Dear Diary, Insight

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