i am disappearing a little with each passing day.
i am being replaced by the exquisitely minimalistic einaudi’s compositions. they follow me everywhere, curl up inside of me, stick to the soles of my shoes and jump up when i lift them; they peep at me from behind people’s eyes, and burst from their mouths when they laugh.
i wore my longest string of pearls today and my flowy dress and tried to move through air the way i giorni moves through me.
someday, i will be just as magical and beautiful. i will slip away from my body, be reduced to sound; compressions and rarefactions; furious rains; radiant sunflowers; gossamer sunshine; gentle lapping of waves on the shore; skin bathed in moonlight; long eyelashes and long fingers; smiling faces and familiar voices; hibiscus tea and solitary evenings; paper boats.
i love experiences much much more than i love people.
is this something i need to work on? (do i even want to know the answer to that question?)
i wake up feeling scared most mornings, but the comfort of being surrounded with magic makes me feel glad about being alive.
these are the best days, honestly.
i will stay up all night swaying to i giorni and sipping hibiscus tea.
i am the happiest person alive.