the new year’s first morning’s fresh air is crisp and cold, blue, flat skies and slightly hard to breathe. my nose is runny from sniffling the whole way last night, sleeplessness, restlessness, something itching at my eyes and a deep, deep ache in my heart. i wonder what that ache is, i wonder the whole night through, i wonder if i’ll find the answer in between the pauses of my parents’ snoring— something i used to bet on a decade and a half ago through the walls of my bedroom and now right next to me, squeezed together on the double bed in my small studio in somewhere, the netherlands. I wonder if i’ll find the answer in the first clouds of the new years but i draw the curtains to first- meet a concrete monster of a building and then, meet empty wispless blue. i wonder if i’ll find it in the bubbles in the froth of my coffee but we’ve run out of milk apparently and cannot repurchase any because we’re all flying out of the country in a few hours so hey, i think we all need to have black tea today. no bubbles there. i wonder what it is. i wonder if it’s about not finding answers in other things anymore, if it’s about having to make my own answer finally. something cliche like that.
