let lemons be angry

Last night I wrote that I was kind of tired and lonely. Somehow the post disappeared. My life edits itself.

Very well then, because today was a happy day. The happiest moment was when I was wandering in the middle of the market square looking at fake barbie dolls and water bottles. There was some happy chinese song blasting from another stall, and my mother and I agreed that it was making us feel lighthearted. At that moment I felt there was nothing better than walking in the market and looking at water bottles.

The whole week has been simple and happy like this. Which is why I miss the week that's just passed. I want it back, like a good book, to read over and over. To laugh at nothing and make incomprehensible facial expressions, to be amazed by toys that box and shoot hoops, to watch cheese steam off my nacho, to wait for hairdye to set, to squabble and be silent, to buy little teacups wrapped in newspaper, to eat brazilian cheese buns, to have never-ending free tuesdays.

I want this to last: the rare absence of worry