Away

I pack a suitcase, all comfy clothes. I put it in my car. I leave in the night. I drive to the coast. There, I find a place to stay that looks out onto the ocean.

I spend my days eating popcorn, watching movies, and making food. Sometimes, I buy books and read them. I spend hours in the library and don't feel guilty about it, even though I never finish read anything. I walk along the shore and take thousands of pictures. I talk to nobody. I have the energy to write again.

I sleep for hours. I stay up until 5 AM and go for a walk before going to sleep. I sleep until 3 PM. I eat erratically.

Months later, when I finally feel together again, I come back home.

But for months, I am not responsible for anything or anyone, and answer only to myself.



I feel worn thin like an old rug.

I'm just tired.

Why can't it be August yet.