12816
I’m sitting at the table and looking outside the window. There are birds flying in the air, cars moving here and there, a smoking tube, a grey sky, the ruins of a factory, houses and trees. I write too much about what’s going on through my mind and rarely pay attention to the “external” world. I guess it’s because this view outside the window is, in a sense, always the same; my eyes have gotten used to it, and I find no pleasure in observing it. Moreover, it doesn’t’ make any sense. My mental life, on the other hand, is constantly changing. When I observe this change, it makes me feel excited and engaged in the process.
I continue working on the club, watching the inaugural addresses of US presidents, writing daily, talking to the camera, uploading these talks on youtube, publishing my diaries, studying arguments, grammar and punctuation, reading wikipedia, reflecting on different topics and doing all sorts of things to move on. Yet, it feels like something is amiss. It feels like I can do better, be better, feel better.
Today’s morning was somewhat dull. I decided to skip my exercises, giving my body a chance to relax, but it had an undesirable impact on my writing. It looks as if I’m complaining, even though I’m just registering what’s going on.
Before we fell asleep, A said she felt sad and I didn’t find anything to say back. I came to her at 20:00. We talked for the whole evening. I listened to what she said about suppressed emotions and her stressful childhood. When I suggested reading my diary, she got upset because, as she said, I hadn’t noticed that she was tired after work. When I suggested watching one of these speeches I’m studying now, we did that, but then she got upset because I didn’t pay attention to her. The whole evening, she wanted to “communicate” and repeatedly asked me to start a conversation. When at last I said that I didn’t like it, it made her feel sad –
Back: http://proza.ru/2023/03/20/818
Forward: http://proza.ru/2023/03/22/683