Collette

For 2 hours my mother has been talking. Talking about life. Her life she meant to give us. Even though the booze crafted the words, i knew what she felt was a permenant dysfunction. Till maybe, just maybe, a genie lands on our carpet. 4 days of not having a solid surface to stand on, i broke down. I think too much. I mean if i don't, my hands would start to take control instead. Half-assimilating what my mom was saying, i laughed at the whole image of us, my sister, me and her. I just didn't want to imagine the message she was trying to decode. I don't like to navigate to something beyond our reach. I don't know.

Cab drivers can be really nice sometimes. Yesterday on the way to church, this catholic driver who looks like Van de Velde, only smaller, made friendly conversations and played really good music and today, this driver smiled when i said i don't have ten cents, can i pay you that less? Okay its just ten cents. But the little makes me pay attention. I wonder how they earn. I wanted to ask but always end up surpressing myself. I knew i could just google the answer but i think sometimes staying curious on something would actually be better.

I need to write more. Draw. Anything with my hands. I'm a whizz at controling my mind when it comes to that:] Anyway this afternoon while preparing for work, i found a book that made me froze for few seconds. "How to stop worrying and start living" by Dale Carnegie. Next thing i did was touch it to see if its real. Its my sister's. And that means she knew she needed it. Then I found myself smiling.