Staring at the ceiling

Day 50: 2 clementines; a bowl of crunchy oats milk; bacon sandwich; leftover curry with spinach and potatoes; 1 jelly sweet; pasta with broccoli.

This morning I stared at the ceiling for a very long time. From the dark hour well into light. I couldn’t sleep, but also couldn’t get out of bed. Even the sun, which generally gives me a good enough reason to get up, didn’t do it today. What do you do in these cases? I stare at the ceiling. And then go through my emails, instagram, facebook, messenger, whatsup. Once that’s done, I feel worse than before, so I go back to the ceiling – that static, certain thing which at least is covering my head. These moments are always silent. Silence is a bad beast. It has no mercy. It makes you feel. It makes you feel shit, also. Shit as in lonely af. I could have put BBC radio 4 on (unless it’s the Archers) or I could have put music on, or I could have started talking to myself out loud or into the phone recorder. But I did none of that. I just stayed there staring at the ceiling and thinking about shit. And the more I did that, the more I lost the willingness to move, let alone wake up.

How emotions come and go remains a baffling mystery to me. When you feel them, you feel them. And in that moment, there’s no way of thinking that you’re not going to feel them at some point in the future. I’ve tried telling myself that it’s only an emotion and that it will pass. But in that moment, I don’t think that way. I have no other option than feel it. Which is fine. That’s what you’re supposed to do anyway, apparently. So then what.

I managed to get out of bed and the fucking boat after lunchtime. I walked towards the high street and then I saw a church. The Church of Our Lady of Willesden, also known as the ‘Black Madonna’. I went in, there was no one. And there was silence, too. But it was a nice silence. Apparently there’s a shrine with the statue of the Black Madonna which has been the destination for pilgrims for centuries, but I couldn’t figure out where it was. So I went back on the high street, into a pretty shop of a beautiful old Brazilian woman to see if she wanted to make me a dress with some fabric I have. She said she doesn’t do that anymore and that I have a beautiful face with a well-proportioned long nose. Her small dog barked at me. Then I went into a cafe, where I worked a bit on an application. Then I went to the butchers and bought two lamb chops. The man slipped an extra chop in the bag for free and gestured to zip my mouth about it. I thanked him.

I’m telling you all these things because I guess it makes me feel like I’ve done something with my day. Also maybe to say there is kindness and adventure outside to be exchanged, but you need to find the energy to get out first.

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