as summer fades.

Sometimes it's so much work to wake up and find meaning in the day. Sometimes my four cream walls just eat my soul. Sometimes I don't want to eat my eight dollar cereal. I just ponce around the kitchen in my pink kitten slippers cursing the pantry. I slip into my pajama pants as soon as I'm done and eat something involving cheese. I sit in front of the TV, each show sliding easily past the last, the hours dripping from the faucet. I wish the years would go quicker, as easily as the time spent in front of my god forsaken television.

Sometimes I wish I were beautiful. The kind where you roll out of bed and your hair is stuck and confused but somehow elegantly so. The kind of beauty where your eyes are so wide and enormous people stare for ages. The kind of beauty where you can't quite pinpoint exactly what it is that makes you gorgeous. No freckle out of place, no unsymmetrical lips, the perfect eyebrow arch. The kind of beauty that probably doesn't exist but you're convinced it's out there with everyone but you.

I download movies and television shows and I ignore my books, my beautiful revelry and imagination locked away because it takes much effort and ruins the ugliness of my reality. Somehow it's easier to realize TV is fake and illogical. But when I read a book I want what it entails, I want to have my life laid out like that, narrated. I want the excitement, happiness, struggle, and eventual success as laid out in a book.

I narrate my life, actually.

I noticed the draft first around my ankles. The windows must have been open behind me since as I scanned the bus and I couldn't see any open. There was an old lady to my left, her face as old as time. Her eyes were angry. I felt ashamed. I hate the bitterness that so often accompanies with age. There was a couple two seats in front of me. The girl, i reckon, was tired so she kept resting her head on his shoulder, fitting exactly in the nook between his shoulder and neck. He turned a little to kiss the top of her head. I can't wait for someone to love me enough to kiss the top of my head.

There was a boy, on the brink of puberty and trying to look cool. He got ugly white sneakers on and I see his foot tapping to the beat of his unknown music coursing through the cords to his gigantic headphones. The girl whose name I thought was Alex sat over on that side too, her perfect brown hair cascading down her back. She smiled as she gets off at the mall before my stop. I smiled back, my hair frizzy and damp from the heat of the summer. The weather which somehow, Alex had evaded.

I listened to my mp3 player while keeping watch over the snuggling couple ahead of me. Time seems impossibly slow here. I traced lazy circles out the windows with my eyes. Then it started to rain. The drizzle settles on the window; I could feel cold air wafting off it towards my flushed cheeks.

This year, summer is flushed cheeks and soaked pants' hems. It's rotting leaves in the empty fountain and the whistle of the wind out my window. It's steeping tea and cold tile floors. Its time here is just ending but to me it feels as if an entire universe has been born and is breathing its dying breath. The seventh of May and already my bones are cold are tired. It's Friday and I can't account for the rest of this week. Where has it gone? Did it flew down to the ground with the yellowing leaves last night?

Now I sit here melancholic and alone. Tired and cold with an ache in the corners of my skull. My room is bordering on tidy and I listen to the drawling music listlessly. I sit here my lips taught and my eyebrows knit. I sit here with the tension of the world building in my shoulder blades and sliding down my vertebrae. My throat closes and my mind follows suit. Slowly my body will call for sleep and I will reluctantly listen, but for now the music flows slowly and uneasily, like the thoughts in my mind and the feelings in my heart.