was it always this peaceful in the mornings? after everyone else has left for work and school, and i am left to exist in my quasi-reality state. which, right now, happens to find me sitting on the back of the couch with my legs out the window in the spring sun, the spring breeze. i can hear the sugar cane fields across the paddocks singing shhhhhhhh in the wind like a sunny green sea. its twenty-one days into September and spring but winter still hangs around the edges of the days and paints in some of the nights. all the new greenness is dotted over the stick trees and little flowers have been drawn out by the sun. even if it hasn’t actually rained in weeks.
its probably that, in the mornings, my mind is too busy telling me i should be doing something, anything, being ‘productive’: any number of things which aren’t exactly life-and-death important and only really stress me out more. so i end up doing less. so today i told myself to shut up and instead let myself sit and enjoy the breeze because i am at liberty to do so. and it happyifies me so that maybe i’ll get something done, which i prove in writing whatever this is.
because i guess my goal at this point is to wipe away the anxiety that’s trying to build up again, though i’m really not exactly sure where it’s coming from. not that it matters; i’ve already learned (nevermind after about a dozen times) that analysing problems does not always make them better. the solution is more important. and that solution involves fighting the negativity clogging up my brain – fighting it calmly with birdsong breeze and flowers and matcha ginseng tea. half-legit window seats and breathing in the air that makes things grow. and maybe forcefully preventing myself from telling me how stupid i am.
oh, lovely: apparently this peaceful day is the one the sugar cane fields were deemed to burn. (don’t be alarmed; this is normal. apparently.) now it sounds like a large saucepan of popcorn popping in the distance. that’s nice. burn the sea. though unfortunately its not very inferno-like this time.
poetry has kinda abandoned me lately. it does that. although maybe i’m just not trying – but does it need me to try? mostly i just let my ideas float into my head because it doesn’t work much if i force it, but really i don’t know. but i have been able to work on my stories: piecemeal-like but still. i need to try harder at everything, is what i think.
vaguely concerned i’m about to drop my laptop out the window any minute now. maybe get sunburned also.
so before i end this out of fear for my laptop’s health and that of myself, (if you’re questioning why my words have this formallyness to them, it’s just what happens when i read biographies and 19th century classics.) i shall mention that i turned seventeen recently, which again led me to ask the question: what is my life. and still i do not possess an answer acceptably pertaining to reality. though i think it’s fair to say i have a better general idea than i did a year ago; even more so than the year before that, which does not deserve discussion. but anyway, i will continue to live and continue to learn. because what is living without learning?
also now i wish to redirect you, if i may, to the website of International Talk Like A Pirate Day. which was the 19th of September and i am a failure of punctuality, obviously. [i… also forgot to wear my pirate costume.] but, early notice, you know? early notice is good.