I should be cleaning the house

a story about nothing and everything

i am a phony. my personality is non-existent. i am a sponge. i observe, absorb and become. i really hate this about myself. i am paralyzed by the fear of rejection of my authentic self, even though i don’t think i am in any way, authentic.

i am staring at all the books i haven’t read. somewhat leaning, resting, on a wooden shelf. they want to be opened up, devoured and understood. i can relate. why did i choose these books i ask myself. did they speak to me or did they whisper ‘i fit the mold’. i move on to other thoughts.

for a moment it seems empty, the absence of thoughts is desired for some, they would pay for it. some go as far as consuming harmful substances. not for me, i need my thoughts. without them i transform into the dried flowers that are standing lifeless on my dining table. i cling to my thoughts even though i know they deceive me day after day.

i walk into the kitchen looking for something to satisfy my hunger. i haven’t cleaned up from breakfast and the ground coffee is stuck to the bottom of the french press. the fridge looks empty. it seems to be a reoccurring theme today, i tell myself. it’s almost noon and i have to figure out what to have for lunch. the most fundamental things in life can be the hardest to attain. such as your next meal, or love.

love is like food, we all need it or else we die. this must be the worst sentence i have ever written but i cannot delete it. i no longer want to care if i am considered cringe. i want to be free from fearing you - an anonymous person behind a screen. to recoil in distaste is the definition of cringe. if you are recoiling in distaste, i apologize but i no longer want to care about you. you only exist in my head.

i am still hungry but there is nothing to eat. i am cold. i reach for a grey t-shirt from the pile in my closet. i look in the mirror but my reflection doesn’t resemble me. i don’t feel the way i look. i feel ugly but i don’t look ugly. i have never connected to my appearance, i am just playing this character staring back at me. i have been playing this part for so long, i am lost in the script. the audience is only clapping if i perform according to their expectations. they wouldn’t like the uncut version.

i grab my jacket and reluctantly walk down the stairs of the apartment building. the sun is making an appearance every so often but the clouds try to hide it with their thick colorless body. a man is walking too close behind me, it makes me nervous and angry at the same time. i stop mid walk because i couldn’t deny my desire to teach him a lesson. he almost bumps into me and i feel righteous.

faces look distorted, i don’t know what happened to them. their eyes catch mine. i look away after a second. the screening has been completed. i wonder if they are seeing me or a version of me. the only thing that looks real are the dogs and the pigeons. i want to analyze humans without them having a chance to analyze me. i want to be air.

as i arrive home i hang up my heavy long coat, transferring the weight onto another object. i bought some fresh bread from the bakery i like. i always get it uncut even though i am really bad at cutting bread. i don’t know why i keep doing that. it might be my yearning for total control.

i take a look around in my apartment. it is messy. the blanket on the couch is draped but it should be folded, the laundry is dry by now but i neglect it. i still haven’t brushed my teeth.

suddenly everything seems out of place but i am glued to the chair. I should be cleaning the house.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked this post. I really enjoy this style of writing but I am always very afraid of publishing this type of content because I feel more vulnerable sharing it with the world. Anyways, drop a comment if you like!

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