스웨덴세탁소 (Sweden Laundry) – 답답한 새벽 (Another Dawn)

Life updates + Sappy Tuesdays + One of my favorites from Sweden Laundry
As with all sappy posts, make sure you scroll down and play the song before you start reading. (If you’re on a computer, it should autoplay and autoloop)
I cut myself, not on purpose.Here’s a list of why this made me so sad:

• I wouldn’t stop bleeding. Is this what being old means?
• I had to use 4 paper towels for this… What a waste.
• My cousin kept saying how hungry he was, so I had to continue cooking
• Doing the dishes hurt so. freaking. much.
• I read somewhere that bringing it to your mouth is actually bad, so I had to resist myself.
• But I know someone else still would’ve done it, wishing me to get better

It’s a weird feeling, to miss someone.

I eat alone, work alone, eat out alone, workout alone, read alone, and drink alone.
I cook alone, think alone, walk alone, smile alone, shower alone, and sleep alone.

I used to love solitude, my sail neatly folded beside me, the mast touching the ocean blue sky; It was my peaceful place, being alone, just floating mindlessly in silence, not a thought to be found among the shadows of the clouds.

Things are peaceful again. Nothing to stress over, nothing to worry over, nothing to fight over… Just staying afloat on this waveless ocean. But it’s almost too peaceful, time passing by at its own pace. I miss how the waves felt, how for every low, there was a high, and for every fight, there was a ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’. Time sometimes moved too quickly, and not so much the day after. Without my notice, I set up my sail up high, moving towards the rocky waves, but nonetheless moving. Every moment I thought was funny, every good restaurants I visited, and every funny post I read, it made me happy because I was excited to share it with someone, and wanted to know how that someone would react. Not just anyone, but someone. Without that someone, I tried anyone, but to no avail. Time is back at its 1 second per second pace. Today’s another Tuesday, tomorrow’s another Wednesday.

The wave has passed, and my mast broken. Yet I’m still here, praying for the wind to blow.

My dream has changed, but not the people in it. My dream has changed, but not the person in it.