Confussion
I have a confession to make. I have a concussion. I wish not to recall how, when and where I got it. Let's just say that a dear friend saw the unfortunate event happening in a dream but I was too far gone down its spiral to avert it. So I've taken to staying in the dark. Spending time in silence. Listening to muffled residues of human discourse from the outside world. The shriek of an angry infant boy, the instructive growl of his mother. Recognisable yet unintelligible sounds, like blurry echoes in a hammam or like sharp coloured texture craftily cushioned by an Instagram filter. I don't watch TV, don't listen to music, don't connect with people through the social media, don't keep my Smart Phone switched on after 7pm (which I believe is the hardest part). As a result, I have time. I cook healthy meals, cut the vegetables in perfectly thin slices, chew my morsels of surprisingly not undercooked chicken and sometimes I even sing to myself. I hope to be b