feeling like dancing here, in the dead cold lab. probably more alive than i ever was earlier this week. maybe that has got to do with intensive reading, maybe watching a carefully crafted story unfold and maybe not forcing my luck with the night as it progressed.
in any case, today i was able to leave the bed, cook myself up a nutritious breakfast and take my vitamins, leaving house before noontime. a person of small joys and ambitions, i find myself unable to think that far ahead. a week at tops. last week my motivation to go through the anxiety-filled midterms week was i could watch the crown's new season as soon as it was over. this week, it's that i'll go to kyrenia and kiss all the cats i can grab in the garden.
an ambition. to finish a book. to soak it all in, let it run through the veins. the thing about books on cyprus is, they make me want to travel back in time and become an observer. it kills me that i can't, it kills me that i am highly aware of my limited imagination. surely, there are cathedrals, there are castles, busts and old stones and roads.. even cities, but how can one not wonder? not go crazy over it?
i wonder if the cypriot sun was like this a thousand years ago. i wonder if the people tried soaking it all up, laying on the hot marble, just as i did. what did they see when they looked up? ah. okay okay, im leaving it here because you see it too, im going crazy.
feeling like dancing here, in the dead cold lab.
please build me a time machine, let me start with the '50s cyprus, let me go back a thousand more. maybe a queen, maybe a mistress, maybe nothing at all. oh wait, i was the observer.
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