Forgettable

Sourness is a boy, spiciness is a girl — the third time they indicate I may be pregnant. Maybe they notice my consumption of lemonade, vinegar, sour strawberries, hence they assume it's a boy.  I'm totally speechless. I've replied “no” when they asked if I was pregnant. The second time when they kicked bluntly the question “Are you pregnant?” to me, I asked them if they thought I was capable of asexual reproduction. Yet, they insisted I was pregnant. Our future son(likely sons) is sending me messages via others. But where is the seed(s) and when it will be delivered? Daily dose of delusion. 

I saw a white hair from the mirror so I plucked it. I thought it was a completely white hair but it was not, one third of it was white, which started from the root. Hairs turn white from the original colour, white hairs don't grow from the roots.  I haven't watched any tutorials on how to dye hairs yet.

Good news — I finally wasn't asked for my documents when I paid for the fermented wheat juice. Bad news — i might not look younger if we took selfies together. you mind?

Manage well your facial expression, six. There's something in your eyes when you smile like a love fool. Nah, I don't want to hide it anymore, I smile, I laugh, I ask whatever I want. 

I was busy while she walked in to tell me she heard a song that was popular last year, in my language.  I asked the song's name. "You don't go." What? "You don't go." Something is still there, the universe is sending me the same message in various forms .  I'm not going anywhere, I perch in your universe(no time, no life, no death), safe and sound.

In the morning sunshine, I stopped at the crossing light to wait for it become green. As I casually glance at the road, a 777 car drove by. In the late night street light. I walked along the empty street. I looked at the road when I was about to walk across it. A 999 car passed by. I did not go to that parking lot where many interesting numbers can be demonstrated. Still, those numbers chased me wherever I was. What's going on, for real?

The memory of turning the sound of my phone on is far beyond reach. My phones made no sound even when someone called me because I always turned off the sound. My social circle is so narrow that basically no one called me. Few days ago, the necessity of turning the sound on hit me hard, because I missed business calls and messages twice in one day. I'm not in that chapter anymore, in which I had no place in the society, hence impossible to exchange the values. The gale of revolution blows away the sand on my head, I lift my head, any sounds of my phone can't freak me out no more. It feels great to be needed. 

Sunlight gently cascaded through the lace curtains. The rose stems in the vase seemed to be ecstatic. Two sprouts popped out the green stems even no roots in the water yet. Maybe they added something to the water to accelerate the growth, I thought. But look at the warm sunshine, it's spring, every thing grows eagerly in spring, any catalyst is unnecessary. I will buy myself a rose, to put the stem in a bottle of water, to grow my own pot of roses from a stem. This can be only done in spring.