Timelapse

Wake up, wish you were asleep. Snooze, wake up. Hate your clothes, run. Take your time, wash your hair, oh fuck there's no time. Eat, sigh. Get self conscious that your mother thinks you sigh too much. Kiss mother, run. Find the right music. Honey Singh in the morning is bad for your soul. But good for my hips? Stand. Put on kajal. Read, glare at the girl who stole your seat, get over it. Check yourself out. My dark circles have gotten worse since they told me I had them. "How young are you how old am I? Lets count the rings around my eyes" Change trains. Look at the clock. Grind your teeth. Push, run down the stairs. Punch in. Put your laptop down, make coffee. Don't talk to anyone. They call you for a smoke. Look at them and smile besides yourself. Fuckers. I wanted to be depressed. Get clued in. Make to do lists you'll never complete. Call clients, answer mails. Check the group. Fuck, there's that think I forgot to do. FUCK, lets hope she didn't notice. Oh shit someone else did it already. Oh god why I am so fucking talentless. Check an edit. Wetransfer it. Smoke. Laugh hysterically. Paint the wall. Playfight. Try not to smile when your friends disturb you. Try not to punch x. Go back to headphones. Bookmark something interesting you'll never read. Write more to-dos. Think out an entire conversation before making a call. Get lost in guitars. Eat, arms coming in twister jigsaws.Lay on the yellow couch. Get dragged off. Chainsmoke. Bakchodi. Headphones. Discuss ideas that you don't have. Criticize other people's work. We could do better. Get excited by the idea of doing better. Never do anything. Make coffee and try not to fall asleep. Fight, be inappropriate, make jokes, give pungis.  Try to focus, read articles instead. Your playlist is swelling with things you haven't watched, music documentaries, new bands, 'content', films. Freak out over some song, find the album. Think about all the bands you met and never made videos for. Feel guilty. Bookmark the album, feel distracted. Send concepts, get more work, feel burdened. Decide to do it tomorrow. Order booze. Sit, smoke, watch videos, play poker, gossip. Discuss things you could do but will never try. Swear you'll do them. Drink more after dark. Talk about other people's girlfriends and problems and drama. Laugh, give advice that you'll never follow. Leave before you miss the train. Try to walk straight, pretend you're in a movie. Smoke in slow motion. Hate everyone in the village. Try to find people to check out anyway. Hate people even more. Get stuck in traffic. Get late again. Pick an album to listen to. Read, get distracted by how much you hate yourself. 'Nobody broke your heart, you broke your own cause you can't finish what you start'. Promise not to listen to Elliott, listen to Cupids Trick all the way till Yamuna 'the fucking guitar maynnn'. Try to listen to something faster till home. Try not to think about all the shit you didn't do today. Read something unrelated that you feel totally describes your life and how you feel, then feel overtly emotional. Chide self for feeling overtly emotional. Fucking Kim Gordon and Thurston getting divorced isn't a big deal, I know he's a dick for cheating on her, stop taking sides! Run down stairs, pacy song. Love the empty roads. Ooh I wish I could eat golgappas, run up stairs. 'Good girl?'. Dump bags, kiss sleeping mother. Change, watch some shit while eating. No buzzfeed. Scroll some bookmarks while watching shit. Feel like shit for never writing. Promise to write. I'll go home early for a week and write those stories I've been meaning to. Almost fall asleep while watching shit. Brush. Get into bed. Chet Baker. Roll over so orange light from outside won't be in eyes. Big Star. No, not Big Star, Big Star makes you think. Erik Satie or Chopin. Why can't I ever say anything I mean? Why can't I ever write anything? Who the fuck cares what I think? What have I done in the past year? The past 5 years? You can't write for shit. Your face is leaking now wtf? Ok, retreat into fantasy. Different time, different lives, personalities. You realize you're alone here. I'm the only one you're talking to. Shut up. Stroke my hair till I fall asleep. The fucking light is in my eye again. Curl up. Look at the clock after 15 mins. You've been the same person for years, remember when you read literally the exact same journal entry with names of boys and clients changed, which was from last year. Can't this wait? I have work in the morning. When are you going to think of something? I can't. I know you can't. So all you want to do is talk about how great the Stone Roses are? Is that the big conversation you're waiting to have? You think if you tell your one perceptive friend about that Elliott song, he'll be able to hear what you hear in the guitar and totally understand everything you mean to say without ever saying it? Well, he's pretty perceptive, but that song is too personal, maybe something else. Something less morbid. Is this your contribution to the world? You want to write cheesy things about how a bassline makes you feel? Covers over face. STFU. 230, fuck. SHUT UP. I need to sleep. I need to get my shit together. I need to wake up tomorrow not feeling defeated before the day has begun. I need to sigh less.

Loneliness does not come from having no people about one, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to oneself - Jung