before bed...

So it is this to which you have come, perhaps this to which you have been reduced. Though not solely reduced, something more than that, because there is a softness and a cradling in this place you find yourself.

Listen. Eating stale namkeen, unable to throw it away because it was so good when it was fresh. Oreos, water, mango juice, chana for snack, breakfast, dinner, filling in the cracks between planned meals which start off later than intended and become adventures in themselves leading somewhere unexpected, but maybe no lesser for that. Hair pulled back into the all-utility-no-how-do-you-do ponytail, whisps pinned up and twisted round to avoid distraction, though a glance in the mirror reveals their protest in the form of flagrant disregard for gravitational norms. Move books aside to shake out blankets, the crumbs and wrinkles which have made their homes in this place-of-sleep-cum-workspace. Snap blankets up into the air, watch them descend like parachutes, replace and reorder books, computer, tape, camera, namkeen, George, re-situate for continued involvement in whatever it is you're doing, were doing, should be doing. Cough syrup made of honey and little else smoothes dis-ease in mind and spirit, perhaps more-so than in body. Back to work, and it seems like I could do this. I really think I could.

++++++

Classic rock, or at least dated rock, undoubtedly questionable rock, service comes not so far into the stay to the surprise of the lord-creator herhimself, WWF playing on the big screen TV. A semi-sticky marble table that evokes a silent moving picture of an employee approaching a table after the patrons get up and wiping off the table without putting much store by the result of, nor the intention behind his effort. On couple bent over a laptop to my left, another in front of me as close as they can be while seated across the table from each other. Reaching towards each other, eyes grasping hungrily for some tangible piece, connection with the other. Her arms outstretched, his head resting in her palm, conversation brings them briefly back to the reality of their surroundings, the physical awkwardness of their near-embrace, and they resume residence on their respective sides of the table. Soon again they are lost in each other and hands reach out to make physical contact, dampening the electricity of looks and words to a sustainable heat.

All of it recalling a memory from the back of my belly of being completely entranced by someone, seeing nothing but this other person, feeling constant ecstasy that this person reciprocates my enchantment. Ecstasy is not meant to be felt constantly, only is short, quickly passing bursts. I had a stomach ache for two weeks straight. It was worth it though.

Sitting in this oh-so-something Cafe Coffee Day, what more could I honestly need?

++++++

Do you ever feel like you're on the edge of something huge? Or maybe that you're already there. And isn't it scary to think that you might already be there? Already be free-falling?

right...

NOW?