She is like 700 km away. I have a notebook with letters from me to her, and from her to me inside. I can talk to her on the phone anytime if she’s also available, and we can text each other or send one-time-view photos that silently whisper “heyyyy uuh i miss you so much adn somewhere inside me hurts like hell that i cant hold you close and hug you or land sloppy kisses on your cheeks lips and neck now btu i dont know what to say or even if we can have a decent chat so intsead here is a little silly photo of me for you to look at and chuckle i hope you strike a conversatoin i realy really wanna talkt o you but i will jsut wait for now” The campus is almost completely empty and lifeless as it always is during holidays. Its silence has an anchoring effect, taking away distractions and forcing me to be more present. If I didn’t have to think about my homeworks, my work, exams, or graduate school applications, I would stop everything and read. Read and write like I am learning a new language, like I believe that I can physically touch the language itself if it is the only thing that I eat, drink, and breathe. I don’t do that. I ponder instead. I ponder avoidantly though, for moves and decisions cast a larger shadow over me than their actual sizes.

I like being present. It makes me feel like my life is not just within a computer box or a stage decorated by unspoken social agreements, but a real thing that I, instead of playing, live.

I guess I will let myself approach living for the remainder of tonight. Turn off the typing machine and read some, then write some. Away with you, notifications!