So, I have a certain fascination with Italian words lately. Hence, "Settimanale", which means "week" or "weekly". I'll try to this weekly, like a round up or a check up on my thoughts. If I am able to keep up, I'd be able to recap every week, because sometimes it's hard to keep up with my thoughts. Sometimes, they come and disappear right away, other times they stay longer. In the latter, I often find myself too wounded to even bother organizing my thoughts and writing them down.
Hopefully, I'd stick to this one. Hopefully, requiring myself to check in week to week would give me a sense of "obligation",
Anyway so here it goes. Questa Settimanale, I find myself anticipating self-destruction. Oh yes, it's coming. And everyday it steals spaces in between tasks where it settles there- my impending doom. Sometimes all I could do was sulk. Most times, I'd rather laugh.
I'm still waiting for the day he vanishes into thin air, like vapor. When will it be? All I can do is close my eyes, whisper a prayer, and imagine the many things I would do once it comes. Oh the many million things. It will be my liberation. Give or take 2 months of recovery (physically not emotionally), and I'm good to go, ready to face my life, finally. Until then I'm just floating by, either awaiting the day I (hypothetically) die or awaiting the day I (finally) live.
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