It’s always interesting to see what my past midnight personality will end up doing. Yesterday it was fudge.
Now, I don’t bake a lot. And not because I don’t enjoy cookies and pastries, but because I’m lazy as fu…dge. But after midnight my personality always turns a bit unpredictable. There’s a quote about this I think:
There. Over thinkers. Silent seekers. A nicer way to say that I turn a bit crazy. Here, another picture:
Kind of how my brain looked last night, if you would change the pictures of the universe to pictures of chocolate fudge. Actually how my brain looks now, because even thought I’m gonna post this tomorrow, it’s still 2 am now when I start to write this (obviously..). I’m gonna take some pictures of it tomorrow though, 2 am has got horrible lighting. Now I should probably go to bed.
2 am. See? Horrible lighting (And see how it’s kind of grainy in texture? Yeah, that’s because it’s mostly just sugar)
Next morning. So I ate most of it for breakfast and got a stomach ache. Difference between kid and adult life: now you’re responsible for your own candy intake and can’t whine about things like that.
Probably shouldn’t call it fudge, basically just a sugary, chocolate-y thing that tastes good with your cereal.
The recipe I used I found here: http://chefronlock.com/recipes/midnight-snack-quick-microwave-fudge/ My requirement when googling was that it hade to be something sweet and unhealthy, I had to have all the ingredients at home and I had to be able to make it in a few minutes. Since this recipe was awesome I might even add this to my list of Things I do after midnight when I should really be sleeping, along with eating pomegranate and drinking tea, drawing, dancing in the kitchen and taking long baths. Well.
(Edit: Looking back at this post and seeing how little sense it made. Hah.)
Midnight sketch in the moleskine
It didn’t turn out very well when I coloured it, so I took out a white pen and just added a lot of random lines.
I’ve always thought that to be strong, you have to be able to smile regardless of what you’re feeling on the inside. I still think that. Put it on the list with all the other thoughts I can’t stop having even after I realise they’re not true.
I wonder if I was depressed last autumn. Probably not, because I know people who have gone through actual tough times, and it was not like that. I think? At least nobody noticed. Me included.
A lot of times when I cry it helps. Afterwards I can become almost giddy. Other times, it’s a really good cry, but I still feel a bit sad. It’s okay, it’s all okay now, but I’m just a bit sad.
- The dance hall is empty when I arrive. Silent except for the faint humming of the city and the ticking of the clock on the wall, the same sort as those they use in the classroom. Fooling us. Deceiving us. Tick tock, tick tock, as if anything actually exists. Sunshine through the windows, diminished by frosted glass, yet reflecting on the mirrors and creating blurry shapes of light on the wooden floor. Everything is beige and white and soft shades of pink in here. It’s nice, I think.
- It’s different after class. The slight nervousness I always get before teaching is gone, and so my head can’t stay as silently calm. The sunshine faded slowly and I didn’t realise how dark it was until I turned on the light and saw colours instead of shades. The city seems brighter though, clearer. Starting to dance. The colours flashing by my eyes when I close them are sharper.
- At a youth meeting tonight they spoke about the kingdom of Jesus and I almost teared up because home, I thought. Home. And tonight there was the aftermath of a full moon, the actual one must have been covered by the clouds for several nights. I looked up at it, small clouds rushing past. I didn’t even know, I thought. Somehow that meant something. When at midnight I walked home over frosty ice, light reflecting in piles of snow as tall as me, I thought the world was almost achingly beautiful.
I start out normal and then I become so fucking strange.