Things I Do and Things I Don’t.

Something so randomly out of the blue swept me up and threw me in front of the bus again.

‘What do you like to do?’ And that was followed by ‘What are you good at?’

My answer? ‘Apart from being a retard you mean?’


But it’s just.. Wow. Cause I just do not remember the last time someone asked me that.

And.. Well, it just got me to thinking.. I suppose.. I like to dance. Being good at it is a whole other matter, but the fact is I dance. Or. At least, I used too. Not just that grueling 100 hours a week, but whenever I felt like it, because I felt like it. I’m the weirdo who hears a song she likes on the radio in the middle of the night, gets up and dances alone, in the dark in her room. And I draw too. Well. I used to. And write. I used to write all the time. But I don’t anymore. Despite the dozen or so ideas buzzing round in my head, I don’t write anymore. Because I just can’t find the time to write. Or draw. Or to just read. Or just dance cause I feel like it.

And while we’re on the subject of things I used to do. I can’t remember the last time I read a book either. New or old. Cause I remember there was a time where I read every night before I slept. Where I turned exitedly from page to page not wanting to put the book down, needing to know what happens in the next page. And the next. And the next. And the next..

Hmm.. I think what I need.. Is to do all those again.

I think.. I need to find time to be me again.

I adore simple pleasures. They are the last refuge of the complex.
– Oscar Wilde.

Speaking of which, I think I need to go through all my Oscar Wilde’s again. Yes, I think I shall. Beginning with Dorian Gray. *nods.. How can one resist the man who has nothing to declare but his genius?


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