A stupid fight on text. An endless wait to see if they respond. Why do you always have to be the one who has to budge first? Decisions. Quick. Quick. I am not going to be the first one.
Quick check of the date. Quick check of the train reservation status. Bam! The tickets are not confirmed yet.
Trying to think of a happy memory. The energy in the room seems to be going down, down, down. The clouds outside have entered the room. There is a damp, grey feeling in the heart that won’t go away.
The yoghurt tastes like itself, but doesn’t feel tasty enough. Fruits. Meditation. Yoga. Who cares if you don’t have a happy memory?
What are the possibilities that could emerge with a bright neon light, showing way in the darkness? Would something new happen? Would it?
Perhaps yes, perhaps not. Meanwhile, the minutes tick. And the grey clouds persevere.