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.

Being bored

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

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

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.

Being an extra in someone’s life.

Ageing without apologising.

Sea.

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.

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

Memories: they are altered pasts, purposely reshaped in something milder, for us to bear what is left behind.

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.