I’m sitting here in the piano room, using a borrowed laptop, waiting for the clock to strike six in the evening. The airconditioning has been turned off for the day, so the I’ve left the door open – to avoid CO2 poisoning, naturally 
It being Exam Season (and therefore Checking Season, for the teachers), most of the students have gone home to study; I am left to watch the skies grow dark over the soccer field. I can’t tell if it’s simply because of the quickening dusk, or if it spells rain.
I can’t help but notice how my “darker” postcards seem to draw the most attention – the one entitled The Sound, The Fury, The Incendiary Despair currently tops the charts with over 50 views (only my Biography gets higher ratings – perhaps because I’m one of the few people on WordPress who actually put something there). I’ve written about this before – how each postcard is really more of a snapshot of me at a given moment, and not a detailed account of my life in its entirety – and yet something tells me a few people reading this might be doing so simply because the title made them think this was going to be one of those posts again.
Well, no. The title is there because I am literally watching evening fall outside. Please do not feel cheated. Are you not glad I am not up to my eyelashes in despair tonight?
To be sure, the struggle remains – a moment of laxity and I can still find myself teetering on the brink of the abyss – but I would like to think that things seem a little clearer now; more so than they ever did before, and I wonder if writing about those darker moments would be of any help to me (or anyone else)- they seem glib and self-centered and self-preoccupied now – as if I had nothing better to do.
So no; no dark postcards from me now. For once, I would like to be preoccupied, in my heart of hearts, with things other than myself.
It is dark outside now. No rain has fallen.
Recent Comments