the time you enjoy wasting

wassup.

i haven’t been in a really great mood. recently, i’ve been taking a lot of naps, spending a lot of time alone – staring into the oblivion – in search of my mind. i recently read about astral projection in a book by Jodi Picoult. okay, that woman is the Athena of literature. ‘my sister’s keeper’ sewed my broken heart together and ripped it apart over and over again. but, i loved every moment.

don’t we enjoy the things that are most awry. when last have you enjoyed something you do every day, without thinking about how much you’re going to miss it in the next moment. doesn’t it seem like our happiness is based on fear? it’s like we have until the last grain of sand meets all of the others in the hour glass, to grab all the joy a second holds before it could slip away. think about that. really. think about that.

anyway, i want to share a thought which took me a long time to think about. something that might make sense only to those who have also lost their mind in the labyrinth, without any intention of tracing it back because they know there is no place it could truly belong.

“paint your heart out – even if it turns out to be stick figures on a canvas – frame it. draw the sun at the corner with ‘w’ shaped birds flying across the page, drum the furniture although you’ll never be a part of an orchestra. hold a hairbrush to your chin and sing, despite the crack or the squeak. whip up 2-minute noodles infront of your family, like a sous chef on a cooking show. play video games on easy mode, model in oversized clothing, write shitty poetry, reenact cliché scenes from your favorite movie. you don’t have to be talented to enjoy something. you know, time you enjoy wasting isn’t always a waste of time.”