to be entirely consumed by feelings of abjection and fragmentation, circular arguments
nausea: short, rapid motions of liquid spill upwards / i reluctantly swallow it back in / swallow the music and the 25 years of education / even though my heart beats forward, bursting, anxious

Shadows

your face bathed in dim light, a millimeter away from me, penetrating eyes, but we never touched.

at the convenience store, you wrapped your arms around me. contrived intimacy. as i fiddled around for my wallet while sneaking glances at the amused cashier, all i could think of was how bothersome you were.

we communicate on a daily basis. short, direct questions and answers. no hassle, no cliches. i'm always disappointed when we meet - all those awkward moments replaced with inane comments.

"of course you will tell me. you will tell me everything." i turned my face away. a man was running for the tram. in his hands was henrik ibsen's the doll house.

at this point, i only feel resentment and irritation towards my flatmate who owes me more than 1000euros of rent. go and get a fucking job - the supermarket next to our house has job vacancies - stop being a pig and sleeping half the day away and spending the rest of your time going out for drinks and gossip girls. no matter how bad your financial situation is, you do not owe someone, who is a student like you, so much money and still have the cheek to party your fat ass away. argh.

really nervous about the internship prospects...