The unbearable lightness of the smell of myrrh

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So the sun rose up and I had to awaken due to bladder issues outside my realm of control. There is no place any more hellish than being caught with your pants down on a park hedge while rangers are out there trimming it for the fast coming of winter. I had to budge my lazy butt when I overheard one said that he noticed someone living there. It would have made for an awkward conversation, one I could not for long want to suffer.

As usual I try to fight off the disease as I make my way to a cosy Starbucks near Holborn. The day went by so fast, and it so happened to be the second day I succumbed to surrender, having left my spot at a wonderful job opportunity in O2 Arena in Greenwich for more time with Esprit. It is as if our fate and tangled for quite some time. Mark had sent me a message earlier today congratulating me of a job well done last week. But the only highlight of my day was having Miriam and I tackle our anxieties right before our day-ender.

Most of the time before our late conversation was spent by me trying to avoid a fast conversation. It was as if I was trying to intentionally cause her guilt, which I always do with everyone. I have troubles vocalising my own temperament, and the pride of knowing I can take it all in takes over me like Hyde. We had exchanged sweet pleasantries, warm regards. I had even introduced her to the universe of Milan Kundera with l'Insostenibile Leggerezza dell'Essere. She happened to love it. But I was still troubled by the fear in me knowing that she can still fall off my grasp, and that sentiment became increasingly troublesome with each passing day until December. Reassuring Miriam of my love hopefully is enough to convince someone like her of something so fleeting of me. Last night, it was as if I was trying to let her go. Tonight it felt a reassurance that our potential still can reach above a high ceiling, if I manage to tuck away my insecurities and anxieties beneath a masquerade of jeers and japes.

Tomorrow my goal is redemption, and perhaps a draw of fresh experience, while inside Tate Modern for a late escapade.

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