1 a.m. A quiet buzzing noise was coming from the black laptop on the desk. For the past few days I was constantly using it for the simple reason that this was the first time I had ever had a computer in my room. Fucking retard.
My eyes hurt. A thumping pain inside my head.
I couldn’t sleep. I was going through my folders full of photographs. Why are we so attached to such useless objects or as in my case - jpg. files? I keep enormous amount of pictures taken over the years. But I am not ready to let go of them. I want to keep them all and when I’m 90 I’ll tell my grandchildren “Look at this one, kids. This was the first time when your old mamma got drunk, had sex with a boy she hardly knew and threw up all over the bedroom.” Talking ‘bout fucked up generation…
Long ago, I used to have a folder named after my first boyfriend. And when we broke up I deleted all of our photos. Why? Because after all this time I just have a nice, almost faded memory of him in my head. Nothing more. I don’t need more. Past is past and should remain that way.
But I have another folder. My favourite. And it contains so many memories in it that my computer is soon about to break down. I can tell you hundreds of stories about every one of those files. And I’m never deleting it. I guess I kind of have this 7th feeling that this folder is only going to get bigger and bigger.
Unfortunately, things change. And since my heart is flying away to England in the beginning of October, I asked my best friend to photograph us. I just needed to have a little something to hold on to while my heart’s gone.
It was cold. I closed the window. The breeze was no longer warm and gentle as it was in the middle of the summer. I finally closed the laptop. The buzzing noise stopped. I laid on the bed and closed my sore eyes but my brain was still working and the pain inside my head didn’t want to go away. Tonight there was a full moon.
No sleep for the wicked.
Unfaithfully yours, V.
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