moonlight texts (a bedtime story as told to me by a friend)

Dear diary…how’s tricks?

life is weird….all the time. at this point it’s becoming cliche to ask- is it monday or thursday? i’m not asking to be funny i really have no idea what today is. all i do know is that i am frequently -inexplicably waking drenched in anxiety right before nighttime turns to day. when that happens i forgive myself for asking my phone to confirm that it’s monday… thursday…whatever day before turning on my side to watch the sky make morning happen. i’m allowed to be anxious- right? blah blah. it’s the angst that makes my brain decide it wants to think about all sorts of inane things. i think about the pint of raspberries I bought either 2 or 107 days ago and wonder whether they’re still good to use for this morning’s protein shake. does blue mold make blue raspberry? i think about my front line friend and hope she had an okay night at work. i think about my dead parents and wonder how they’d fair through this stupid health crises and for the millionth time also think i’m glad they aren’t here because then i’d be worried all the time they wouldn’t survive it.

after all my pointless thinking i get up…my feet feeling for a pair of worn Rocket Dogs and head downstairs to start up the first cup of tea. there’s something about holding the over sized mug-pressing it to my forehead- feeling its heat that relaxes me…somewhat. it’s the little things…that’s what they say…whoever ‘they’ are. then i think again…who makes up these little pearls of wisdom? ah well – doesn’t matter.

i focus on hearing this sound in my head…a voice kinda thing…it’s not really a voice it’s my thoughts disguised as voice. it has this sort of funky- indistinguishable accent..sort of like a pretentious European… aggs…buhtter…melk…would you care for a crumpet? i had a crumpet once…nothing personal but it was gross….crap i’m losing it. i’ll just take my chances with the raspberry and protein shake.

the days goes on …and on…and on- they’re sooooo long and seem completely aimless. i mean i do stuff but by late afternoon when I try to take inventory I can’t name a single thing i did so i decided i’ll start writing everything down on a plain white paper tablet. i get this very satisfied feeling listing all my day’s activities and them striking a line through each item. Another dumb and pointless thing to exhaust ten minutes of the day til it’s time to switch from my daytime pajamas into my nighttime pajamas

does anyone else feel this way? of course they do…i can’t possibly be the only one…i mean I really can’t because that would mean i’m crazy….the virus won and made me crazy. and i don’t want to be crazy- okay maybe a little bit but the good kind of crazy not the kind that sits in a corner rocking back and forth drooling into a plastic cup.

okay what else…oh yea…

i know …i’ll finish up the night putting my antiquated ipod on….blasting it -reminiscing about where i was when i first heard each song that plays… it’s like a little game i play by myself. i’ll do this for maybe five or six songs and all at once i realize i’m grateful to be able to do this…to jump around on a cool kitchen floor and sing my tone deaf little heart out.

tomorrow’s a new day

i have faith this is going to end…to change… because logically i know everything is temporary…everything.

it’s true- one night will be the finale..happily not for long time.

tomorrow IS a new day

still I can’t help but wonder-Mr Armstrong – on the last night…will my text go through?

universally we are small but no less wondrous. (those harmonies though)

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