Kodachromatic

I'm not quite sure why I'm so sad today. Sometimes there's a clear source. But today it diffused so slow I couldn't calculate it. I woke up late. That could have been it. Days seem wasted when you leave your bed as the sun's already starting to make it's way back below the horizon.

Sundays are lonely days anyway. Even as a child, the seventh day was a day of rest. Not for me. Silly rules didn't apply to my secular lifestyle. But I didn't operate in a vacuum. So Sundays were dull; no play dates or anything.

Now with classes, Sundays are spent in observance of the coming week's homework. A brief tour in the library demonstrated this phenomena. Students crammed into work spaces. I myself went wanting for a computer to print out 32 informative pages of stem cell knowledge. I had to continue walking up the hill, the thin layer of lotion I had glossed over my limbs now trapping in the sweat waiting to pour downwards. Comfortable in the shade, the climb was devoid of trees. And along the way I saw no one I knew.

Or perhaps it was looking through my phone, noticing songs I had written down from a month ago, right out of the middle of summer. There had been the comfort of consistencies. I knew who to call. I knew what to do (even if what to do was simply do nothing). I knew how to make one chore last an entire day. I knew that it would always be warm; even if it was cold, it was still pleasant enough to swim. I knew that tomorrow morning I would wake up, and go through these processes all again. And in that I was happy. Actually, happier than I'd ever been. If mental homeostasis was possible, my summer produced it.

My desk has transported junk to me. A broken clock. Recently prescribed behind the counter drugs. A discovered pen, sitting in one of father's favorite hiding spots. Testaments to the way life could be. I knew, even at it's beginning, it wouldn't last. Expectant of heartbreak, I stumbled into sadness. Harder to fight. I still have a few photos. But I always avoid looking at them, even if I did tape them to my desk a week ago.