The only time I do this on my own is when I’m travelling through airports: sit in a café drinking wine. But today, I’m not in an airport. I’m almost home. And I’ve just given into responsibility and decided to give myself some time. Oh I feel guilty, even with the knowledge that the grandparents are helping out at home today, I think. I feel like I have to get home when all I want is that there is no time, that everything happens when I want.
Turns out they are out of wine in this café. They have served me a beer that I need to pour myself. How I wish I was back in Europe. It wouldn’t necessarily change my state, but it would make one part of my life feel that it was in the right place. But it looks like I’ve chosen a difficult life. Let’s hope that I find a way to make it feel right before I die.
I’m so down. I don’t see how one finds meaning in life. Actuallly, forget about meaning, I don’t see how one finds a sense of security. I could die right now. I can I give myself the illusion that this is not true, even though it will be true one day.
Good wine is probably the only place that life seems worth it, where I actually accept that I can die now and that’s ok and I feel alive. If it wasn’t for wine, I don’t see what the point of anything is. I wish someone would enlighten me.
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