Red Curtains

Recently, I bought some fantastic readymade curtains for my room. Well...red is a bit of an overstatement (if you're looking at it from a saturation standpoint) and also an understatement, if you're looking at it from a shade standpoint. It's more of a lovelt copper/auburn that glows a fierce and deep hue of red. I love waking up to it and feeling so utterly encased in a warm light, a cocoon that reminds me so much of when you're eyes are closed but you're looking at the sun - the light filtering in is bright but mellow, warm, not yellow, reddish.



I don't like using the word emo, but that's what I'm feeling. It doesn't happen very often (not unless its in a feeling-down-about-world-affairs-feel-their-weight-on-me sort of way) anymore. Perhaps writing off what I'm feeling in such a remorseless, thoughtless way is unfair of me and maybe I'm buying into pop culture more than I should. But...I have no words, none to describe what I'm feeling.



All I know is, now, I never feel like drawing the curtains, I'm sitting in a dark room with my father's office lamp (that I stole...it was mine first!) and tapping away at my desk...looking for a purpose. Looking for a reason to take action. It's not like I'm happily idle; I have a million things piled up. I finally finished an application last night and I have editing work for Existere - second round corrections are (mostly) in. It's due Friday but what is freaking me out is that we have to be ready by the middle of next week....the issue comes out on September 10th. Or it has to be in to the printers by then...I don't know. All I know is that there's shitloads of work piling up - and I have no will to do any of it. To even consider it. I'm imagining myself doing it; in fact, I'm feeling very go-getter, very productive. I have to start planning my duke of ed...I have to find money to take a dressmaking class on avenue rd. and find time to volunteer. I have to get involved, chase opportunities, be fresh and re-read last year's essays. Finish Benazir Bhutto's thoughts on democracy, and essays and lectures by George Steiner and Jorge Luis Borges, respectively. In other words, I need to get in gear for next year. I need to blow Johnathon Warren out of his Yale-educated mind.



But I also feel like I want to light a room with a thousand light bulbs and then smash them all. On occasions like these, I need to sit back and absorb. I need to...I don't know, get lost. Synthesize. I'm feeling tired, gross, icky. I'm feeling drained - not of energy or hope...but of will. Of reality.I'm tired of the 9 to 5, the children, walking to work and back every morning routine. This is why I could never be married. Domesticity makes me itchy. If I ever had to care about carpool and PTA meetings...I'd stick my head in the oven too, minus the lovely poetry. (not that that's why she stuck her head in the oven by any means...)



It makes me numb. It makes me smile falsely at the parents of the school where I work when underneath I'm too exhausted to even produce a halfway decent insult about the correlation between their children's level of indiscipline versus the cars they drive. It's a positive one, needless to say.

Sometimes, it's not enough...and sometimes, there's just too much. So I'm now going to go drown myself in A Bit of Fry and Laurie and finally watch Kaminey. Vishal Bhardwaj + Shahid double role. This, I gotta see.