Freewriting (10 min)

Today was less than ideal but it's fine, I'll deal with it. All I can think of is the color blue and fog overwhelmind the trees, swallowing the brush and all the leaves whole. I think of the grass, dewy and webbed as I walk to class in the mornings. I think about the overcrowded bus and having to stand, sort of showing everyone how clumsy and unbalanced my feet seem to be. But today I stood there for the longest time and stared at the floor of the bus. Moved only by the mechanical strain of thoughts that infiltrated my brain at that specific time. Thank you thank you thank you just kept filling my brain on loop. A broken record. Noise and all. Then in restrospect I remember that it was a moment of joy. But at the time it didn't feel much like joy. I got out of the bus and it was cold. Oh wow what a boring sentence was that, right? When I go to school, go about my business, do what I'm supposed to. I feel sort of alone, I wish there were someone I could actively talk to when I walk places, someone I can look at and smile with about how class was for the day. I get over it, though. This is the life I've chosen and I chose it for a reason. I couldn't stand being where I was before, everyday being so still. I couldn't stand staring at the walls of my room. So I moved away and now stare at the walls of the kitchen. I stare so much at the things in the kitchen because they don't move or go anywhere. I do it so that I can stop my head from spinning off of its axel. < I hoped I spelled that correctly.
Have you ever seen a movie where the lady sits at the table, looking out the window filled with daylight and sorrow? That's what it felt like today. It's been quiet. But then again I really enjoy the simple life, don't I? Having someplace to be but without rush. Having things to do but at my pace and all the while still having enough time to watch singular blades of grass sway in the wind. All the while still laying on the grass looking up at the purple clovers being held together by lanky branches. I still have time to do that. Why is that? Because my life is not one that cares too much or too little. I have enough sympathy to be able to cry in front of a group of people, in front of just one person, in front of no one. I have enough compassion to be able to love a group of people, love just one person, love myself. After listening to music for the past four and a half something hours, my brain feels slightly numb and so does the rest of my body, just to follow it. My body usually is a conformist that way. Right now I breathe heavily just to watch my stomach move upwards and then downwards in rhythm to my inhales and exhales. I don't know why that entertains me so much at the time but I guess I just need reassurance. The same way I need things to be repeated.