Look at me this moment. It's me.
Woke up just 20 minutes ago to the noise of yard repairs going on outside. The sun's rays are slowly creeping up on me and making me cringe, and the weird dreams I had last night (or was it this morning?) about Batman and Vilnius must have caused me to wake up in bed, so I woke up with my hair all over my head. Including the moustache.
This is my morning face.
* * *
[Hidden], how's it going?
I started writing this text with the idea of finishing it with why I am not an Alpha male, how emotional, mobile, unwavering and completely clueless I am. Actually, this is the second attempt. The first draft this morning was written exactly 20 minutes after waking up, but now I don't like it anymore, so I tried to rewrite it better.
But the gloomy emotional mood after the dreams of running away, catching some girl with dark eyes, the strange mood of anxiety and break-ups, was gone.
Now, after helping my dad tidy up the sun-soaked yard and installing a new door in the warehouse wall, I feel like half a day has passed. And the sweat that broke out on my forehead during the work has managed to disappear.
Start playing Amelie - La Valse D'Amelie.
What did you do in the last few days of summer?
What did you feel? What were you worried about? And what were you happy about?
I know this letter is strange. Because it is like this - born in the middle of a text that has lost its mood. But I am interested. What are you alive for? It's been a long time since we've spoken.
They smiled. He sits down on the carpet with his legs folded under him.
I'm here. Listening.
Eyes wide open,
