Fog ;

5:56 AM 0 Comments




Some days my head is so foggy that I can barely remember to pack my pencil case. Just today, in fact, I spent almost five minutes searching for it before realising I had already taken it out.
On other days everything is so clear that I feel like I can take on the world: I feel like a superhero(ine?) and I can hardly wait to tick everything off my To-Do list, which seems to be getting longer and longer as the school term progresses.
Most days feel like a mix in between. The morning fog depends on what I do: whether I wake up at 6:20 or 6:30, or whether I paint at school or listen to music. The midday fog depends on my morning, and the evening fog depends on what my last class was.
I've only experienced real fog once in my life, and that was when I was in France, up in the mountains. The way it rolled in was really something to see, and it felt exactly as I'd expected it to feel: cool, refreshing, wet. It was nothing like the stuff inside my head: the stuff that fills it up and slows my thoughts, closes my eyes, and relaxes my hands.
French fog was something I would love to experience, over and over, just because of the way it looked, the way it felt. This fog, on the other hand, is something that I wish I could just nursery-rhyme away. (Fog, fog, go away, please don't come back any day?)
Either way, it's exactly 8:56PM, my head is stuffed full of what feels like cotton candy, my eyes are closing, and I can hardly remember what else I wanted to write. Goodnight.

Daniela

At least my mum thinks I'm cool.

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