Don't eat the banana sensually, please
I've been putting off writing here for as long as possible. It's strange how we can avoid doing things we love, simply because that very love comes barging in with an uninvited guest called perfection.
The thought that my fleeting ideas or messy words might not be entertaining enough, or worse, dreadful to read, made it nearly impossible to sit at my computer and enjoy writing over the past few months.
Result: three or four months slipped by, and I have no idea where they went. By avoiding my love for writing, I also managed to dodge perfection, which made the period quite pleasant since I didn’t have to reflect or fend off any unpleasant thoughts. But alas, you can’t avoid love or practicing it, as we are hopelessly affectionate creatures. Damn you, biologically hard-coded monkey.
I’m trying to savor the days, as grey and dreary as they come. I’m reading more, drawing more, and knitting a scarf for my fiancé. I’m trying to do more random, small things every day—things I can hold onto when it feels like I’m disappearing between the folds of my bedding or under the piles of crates in the corner of the grocery store. Maybe it’s because life right now feels like sand slipping through my fingers whenever I try to mold it into a certain shape, shakily holding its form for a few seconds, only to inevitably fall apart. I've been acting a bit foolish, really.
But, as my grandmother used to say, both he who acts the fool and he who spectates the fool is truly an idiot. So, done with watching my own foolishness, here is my word vomit for today.
…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
I was debating a title for this post while drinking a cup of coffee. A cookie would’ve been perfect, but the biscuit cabinet had been raided by my colleagues. All that was left were some grapes and a banana. I decided to intimidate the colleague sitting in front of me—who had taken one of the last cookies—by chewing the banana aggressively and almost choking on it. Their reaction became the title.