Forgetful darkness

I lit another cigarette when leaving the house. It was cold enough to see your own breath, but now I saw but smoke. Covered up in a big scarf and a warm jacket, I almost felt protected against anything. I walked on. Normally I’d go by bike, but it felt good to walk and buy time this way. It would at least take twenty minutes before I’d reach his house, where I’d throw off my scarf and jacket and drink a beer. Even the thought made me long to it, though the walk wasn’t that bad. There was sun, it did not rain, in fact it couldn’t have been much better. A bus passed by, with people piled and angry looking, and I was glad to be outside.
I lit another cigarette and thought of what was to come: beer, beer, more beer, night, people. I’d forget time and everything I was supposed to remember. It was even doubtful whether we’d even eat during this weekend. Perhaps when we’d get too hungry. But food, really, it didn’t appeal to me anymore. Life was good as it was at the moment, and we could not ruin that by doing things we were supposed to do. We’d just see what would happen.

The street I decided to walk past wasn’t as empty as the street I came from. People were shopping and buying stuff (useless, so useless) and talking or texting. It felt like they were from another world, like I had nothing to do with them. I floated past them, blowing smoke at them, laughing like I should. But that felt good. After all, I was still a part of them for a little while, until I’d arrive at his place and disappear for three days. Some of them smiled back, as they should, but some ignored me. Oh well. That’s typically human, I guess.

In a small, cozy coffee shop I bought a cup hot coffee with a lot of milk and sugar. Such cold days just ask for a cup of coffee. I stayed in the bar for about ten minutes, buying more time to stay in the real world, in the world of healthy, rational people. A safe world, for people doing something with their lives. It would be a pleasure to leave it for a while, but somehow it also scared me. Would I be able to return from the dark laziness I’d be in for three days? But all that mulling, worrying, like it mattered. I took my phone and texted my best friend I wouldn’t be attainable this weekend, then left the coffee shop. This time it was my breath I saw. Getting closer every second. Approaching the forgetful state I’d be in.

One more cigarette. I waited in front of his door until I’d had the last breath of smoke, then threw away the remains of the cigarette and rang the doorbell.

“Hello!”
Kiss.
“Come on in.”

Posted by No Blog Intended on January 5, 2013

https://noblogintended.wordpress.com/2013/01/05/forgetful-darkness/