Something I unearthed while going through the things I wrote back when summer was at its peak:
I look up at the fan rotating slowly, moving the hot heavy air with each stroke. I roll over on the bed, twisting the sheets, almost drawing them off. I stare at the edge of the wall, where it meets the floor. It seems mesmerizing for no reason at all. I don’t blink, I don’t move. My eyes feel gritty. As though I had just woken up, when I had actually been up for 6 hours 20 minutes and 36 seconds. The clock ticked as another second passed by.
I should get up, wash my face.
What for though? To lie back down?
My body is weighed down. Too lethargic to even blink. Sweat is dripping into my eyes. Rivulets travelling down the side of my neck. I almost go cross eyed looking at the mosquito hovering closer and closer to my nose. I can’t even summon the energy to bat it away. It’ll come back soon enough anyway.
It’s just 1 in the afternoon, and almost a whole day to go. I can’t even contemplate that.
I hate summers. With an astounding vengeance. No matter how long I keep the AC on, no matter how many showers I take, I’m always sticky and sweaty. What I wouldn’t give to simply not feel hot for one hour.
And this is what I wrote a few days ago:
I love winters. The chilly weather, the quiet stillness. When I sit in bed, I don’t hear the incessant whirring if the fan. I don’t hear the hum of the AC. I don’t hear the buzz of the flies. And the most blessed absence? That of the mosquitoes. I don’t see them, feel them, hear them, hovering just beyond my reach.
I like how everything is a little muted, how the noises are a little less. The vibrancy of the billboards, a little less overwhelming. The jewel toned clothes, a little less painful without the burning sunlight.
I don’t wait for the snow, because well, where I live, snow doesn’t exist. But I do wait for icy winds. So I can swaddle myself in blankets. Sleep with their comforting weight surrounding me. Drag them with me to the breakfast table. I wait for them, so that early in the morning, I can feel my nose pinken, I can huddle in an oversized jacket and look at the greyness of the sky. I can sit out on the balcony, and watch the world wake up, watch the sun creep up.
I love winters. It’s when hugs are a welcome warmth. When the quietness is comforting. When I can hear myself think. When I can stop worrying about the sweat staining my shirt and dripping down my forehead. When I can simply, be.
Its amazing how consistent my feelings are. :O