4 in the morning
The thing about having an inordinate amount of tea mere hours before bedtime is not so much the fear of losing sleep as the brutalization from a confined body with a mutinied mind. Through some hard-to-explain yet does-exist mechanism, my head is always leaps ahead the rest of my shell, which sounds excruciatingly funny because it is (just think of a cartoon cat holding its severed head running in circles while the house mouse gives a hearty, noisy snuffle), but does not make me any more endearing. You are like a swordsman with a freshly botoxed face, says my mom; you are the coldest person I’ve ever met, says one of my solar female friends, to which, almost by way of retort, I responded “‘cause I’ve never expected to catch heat from you?”
I’m not cold, I mean, at least not as siderale as they made me out. I’m not justifying anything just because it’s 4 in the morning and I’m hyperactive after that dammed tea with nothing better to do. I, personally, do not see anything wrong with being distant and the like. The plain truth is that I am not one of withdrawn, the secluded, the early-riser-last-row-seater in a classroom, the unknown-number-nipper but for fear that I might lose a call from the rider who holds my takeaway hostage. Well, maybe the number of hyphens I’ve used so far is not helping in my plea. Come to think of it, I may be cold. But as I said lines back, not that much. I believe, for what is worth, if I’ve come anywhere close to the brumal realm, it is my psychosomatic misalignment that should be blamed, not me. Words escape my mouth like a prisoner released by chance who is bound to reoffend - I just wish they were better organized, plotting a fail-safe prison break rather than leaning on a chain of fortunate coincidences. I’ve tried to articulate my thoughts nice and slowly, with the delicacy of a fussy ASMR eater, but to no avail. I was dry as dust when I thought too much so I chose to be offensively funny and that, needless to say, comes at a price. Cowardly as I am, I chose to be so only with people who are not easily offended and the testy ones complained I was too closed off for their liking. I know there’s no way to feed two mouths at once with one spoon, so I take the easier one.
I’m not cold, I mean, at least not as siderale as they made me out. I’m not justifying anything just because it’s 4 in the morning and I’m hyperactive after that dammed tea with nothing better to do. I, personally, do not see anything wrong with being distant and the like. The plain truth is that I am not one of withdrawn, the secluded, the early-riser-last-row-seater in a classroom, the unknown-number-nipper but for fear that I might lose a call from the rider who holds my takeaway hostage. Well, maybe the number of hyphens I’ve used so far is not helping in my plea. Come to think of it, I may be cold. But as I said lines back, not that much. I believe, for what is worth, if I’ve come anywhere close to the brumal realm, it is my psychosomatic misalignment that should be blamed, not me. Words escape my mouth like a prisoner released by chance who is bound to reoffend - I just wish they were better organized, plotting a fail-safe prison break rather than leaning on a chain of fortunate coincidences. I’ve tried to articulate my thoughts nice and slowly, with the delicacy of a fussy ASMR eater, but to no avail. I was dry as dust when I thought too much so I chose to be offensively funny and that, needless to say, comes at a price. Cowardly as I am, I chose to be so only with people who are not easily offended and the testy ones complained I was too closed off for their liking. I know there’s no way to feed two mouths at once with one spoon, so I take the easier one.
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