it's Sunday morning again and i feel an obligation toward you. between loathing the 4 am alarm and looking forward to a very long day, it turns out i developed a love-hate relationship with this day of the week. for some reason, times drags on Sunday mornings for the first half, bringing the entire week to rest. i become the cursor on the screen, resting where i abandon it. i am free to wander inside my mind. and i keep arriving at you.
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on what life meant to make out of faith
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Mamu touched my hair the other day and said: This is not the hair of the girl I birthed. What did you do to your hair? I touched my hair, im... -
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I loathe Sundays. There is always either too much, or too little time before the week begins.
ReplyDeletePS- Sorry for the general bad moodiness. Winters are painful.