boston

It is storming in Boston. Maybe it is not a storm but the weather is certainly not pleasant there. Hardly a motivating fact to finishing my application. It is what I am meant to do but I am a bit cross that my fate isn't to be in nice weather. Maybe there will be dancing. I should be studying and applying. I should be wearing pants. What happened to my life? It is about as messy as my room. Good thing I live alone or maybe that only makes it worse. I pull my Econ book up from the floor beneath my desk causing a red panda, an empty box and a scarf that were using the big book as support to fall to the floor and take its place. I stare at the book unopened. I am late for something, but I am not sure what.

Robot

The robot was mad because I had its feather. I couldn’t give it back. Surrendering was not an option. The robot gave a warning in its robot voice, the alarm from my phone  screeched,  and I screamed. The mixture of noise startled me from sleep and woke up everyone else in ear shot. I was asked if I was OK. I nodded in response and stuck my toothbrush in my mouth. I just wanted to move on from my dream and start my day. I don’t drink coffee, but I go to Starbucks every morning, just to be around people. We all type on our computers and ignore each other, yet it makes me feel a part of something. You have two minutes until you have to return. Names of drinks that I have never had are called out and people rush to the counter. She said specifically to drag you in there. I drink my water and check my email. I have to take her to get shots today at 4:15. I go to write this in my day planner; however, it is lost in the bottom of my bag. I try to dig in my bag without calling attention to myself. It didn’t work. Spilling your bag all over the floor of a busy Starbucks is not a way to go unnoticed, but it is a way to find your day planner. I also found the negative of the photo we took in class. We had to squeeze together. The awkwardness made us laugh leading to a good photo, but the negative was covered in goop of a snot coloring that was left over from developing the instant photo and it tainted the image with disgust.  I put the negative away with the rest of the stuff from my bag and went back to typing on my computer with the rest of the Starbucks visitors. 

The red box

The red box of cheese stands proudly while hogging half the sofa. I am not sure why the box was on the sofa but it is in my spot. I dislike the red box not only because it is in my spot, but also for what it is. Cheese shouldn’t come in a red box. In fact, cheese shouldn’t come in any kind of box. I am offered the cheese from the red box, but I refuse. Someone comments on how I don’t do dairy, taking away from my protest of the red box. Someone else announces that we are going play a game. I shake my head and escape to the kitchen. I have a hard time following rules and a harder time following rules. There are flowers thrown into a mug in the midst of the chaos of dirty dishes. The flower’s petals are soft almost like human skin, I noted as I petted the flower. Mind started to drift to dead people and how their skin disappears. maybe dead peoples skin turns into flower petals. I announced this to the group and was answered with a brief silence and they resumed with their previous conversation.

Freedom

I might be afraid of being alone. Something I never thought I would say. But. I might be afraid of being alone. It is not that I am lonely or need others. I don't trust myself and I am afraid of what I may become. I am afraid that when left to myself I will warp into something completely out of control and never be free again. Weird, right? It has to be weird. For me to fear freedom because it leads to the lost of freedom. That has to be weird