You know you are an adult when you go to the store to by pens. It's always been the kind of thing that's part of the house, just like furniture, your family, food... Pens were always there - scattered in places, always old, some with a company logo on them, some are cheap that you never ran out of.
And then one day you realize that there are no pens in you house. And just like the groceries you need to regularly buy, the need to supply what usually has always been there, pens - pens are one of those things. One of your little responsibilities.
When someone's tongue feels as if a hand is recklessly searching through a cupboard's bottom drawer, you are not having a good kiss.
About Time Alone
I am great at being alone - I never get bored. Whenever silence rises and I know the door is closed, that is when I begin my job as a private tutor in the school of the universe. I tell you about things - exciting things, things you have never heard before, in the broadest variety of subjects. I usually choose one language to do it with, mostly English, as I imagine a young child (preferably a shy virgin boy, I like them fresh) ravenously devouring my knowledge with all his abilities of perception. I enlighten, teach, criticize - but support. I walk around the rooms, I make impressive hand gestures, sometimes standing in front of the mirror, as I talk, and talk and talk. I am giving you seminars on life.
My mom does the same.
I would like to have a child, one child. For whenever Boris is going to gigs and I am left the weekend alone. We would have quality time, do things, go for a walk, eat ice cream, take pictures of us outside, watch cartoons and wait for dad to come home and bring us something interesting from Poland, south of Germany, Italy... Then we will be together again.
Maybe I will continue this.