shortireads

Things I find pleasurable:

The last page of a book, the end of a story I am yet to know. I read the conclusion before the beginning so I can wait for the moment when everything snaps into place, when sense saws back the strips of knowledge in my mind.

Dwelling in boredom.

Conversations with people that don’t know me, for I can be whoever I want.

Power. Its smell, taste, the looks, the shape. the essence.

Perfectly understanding the core essence of a person at first glance, allowing me to predict their behaviour effortlessly.

Sex, when there’s no time, will or reason to speak any further.

Stunning the cashier at my local shop with little acts of anarchy. Once I had a face mask still on as I payed for blueberries.

Spying on my neighbour, he’s the main character of his life, when he’s just a mere extra in mine.

Ageing without apologising.

Sun.

Things I find sad:

A tree blossoming too early, fooled by a betraying early warmth, tricked by a sun that will soon disappear. A mistimed spring.

The unexpressed words that sit in a box at the bottom of my brain, waiting for me to stumble on some courage to free them.

My mid 20s.

Indecisiveness, as life slips through the cracks of decisions that are yet made, possible future realities render our present inexistent.

Memories, they are altered, reshaped in something milder, for us to bear that the past is past.

Aquariums.

Things I find infuriating:

The cycle of societal existence that dictates our lives, condemning us in an endless loop of consumerism and production.

People that load the dishwasher without paying any attention to the shapes and forms of plates and cutlery.

That girl that looked at me in high school like she knew me, looked upon me like she knew everything I would do from the second I exited the gates to my deathbed.

Mediocrity, just be the best or why bother at all.

Over concerning myself with the eyes of the beholder.

Having been younger than what I’m now.

Humans.