Lost Love Lust

I take off my earings, they are practically driving me nuts, light a candle and stare at the wall.

Earlier all around me were people laughing profoundly, I could not find myself to laugh, and I have just spilled coke on my shirt, which is one of those moments that we all go through I suppose. Yes, the coke-spilling and the awkward moment.

Luckily, my t-shirt has this insane sparkly square filled with black and pink and a sort of magenta, and you cannot see the stain, just my luck.

To continue, or to not continue?

To continue. 

There is one more week until Christmas, not including this week, and frankly I really could care less.

Yes, I know, it surprises me too.

Gift-giving and all those shinanigans just fail to raise excitement for me, I really cannot imagine why but even the Christmas songs in CVS do not provoke the slightest spark. It amuses me greatly.

Further more, I believe this candle that I lit just does not smell like it says it should. 

“Pineapple Cilantro” my ass. Bunch of liars, these candle makers are. I tell you, if I were a candle maker I would make sure my candles smelled good, on and off, and if I may be sure to remind everyone, you can buy a “Flameless Candle” at your local CVS Pharmacy. Yes, a “flameless” candle. Is that not just a bit of an oxymoron really?

No really, I must say it again.

“Flameless Candle.”

Who thinks of these things? And how do these ideas flutter from their minds? Do they just sit on the toilet on a Thursday evening and say, “Dude! I just thought of the most brilliant idea, lets invent a candle with no flame, and dude! we can call it a flameless candle” as they frantically search for a pen and paper to jot down their profoundly beautiful thought.

I digress.

There is a pack of cigarettes from Romania that just arrived, and for some odd reason, i felt the need in the privacy of my own room, to just smell it, see if it smelled like Romania, which now I find hilarious, but then it was quite poetic. I suppose this could be a sign that I miss the place, although frankly all I ever want to be in Romania for the rest of my life, is a tourist, nothing more, not a resident, not an employee, just a tourist. That brings me to todays discussion, lately I have been feeling like a robot.

My mind tells me what to do, and I do it.

“Eat cereal.” So I go ahead and pour myself some cereal, milk, all that good stuff.

“Blink.” So I blink, and a millisecond later, blink once more.

Shrink: ” So Diana, try and describe yourself in one word.”

Me: ” One word? Why just one word? Can a human be described in just one word? And if so, isnt that just completely depressing? What if I were to say I am happy, and then realize that it is just too simple and no longer be happy, isn’t that kind of a self-contradicting way of putting things? Describe yourself in one word, what have I done to deserve this.”

Shrink: “Diana, please, just try it.”

Me: “Rebellious.”

This is the truth, I have never listened to anyone, and when I have, it has happened with many sighs and random mumbles about how what I wanted should have happened. As a child, it was quite the rebel, nine out of ten times, my mother would have to yell at me so I would listen to her, nowadays, the rebelion is worse, since now, I can have my own opinion and not be sent to my room for it. Its getting dangerous really, and I sometimes tend to realize that when I am wrong, my arrogant mind still tries to convince me I am right.

Is it just me or do we all feel that way sometimes? As if we know what we want to do, but our mind tells us something else. People tend to call that intuition. I call it dangerous.

I have coke on my shirt, and a terribly rebellious attitude.

This should be an interesting week.