Notes to myself

I write notes to myself every night(my phone lets me do that) so I wake up to read them and let them stay in my head.
I am going right back to my workaholic self, little sleep doesn't bother anymore, the heat yes, has tanned one arm to a shade I have never seen on myself.
I set myself on a light board for the first time, it was a gallore I had never been exposed to before, the switches, the dimmers, gave me a weird kick, much unlike the high of performing on stage but an incomperable appeal. It was a world of possibilites, like a canvas, where I could play around and render a perspective to an entire performance. I would love to go back and do it with a tad bit of expertise, but this aint the time. Theatre is slowly taking a back seat. Time is running out, for what I can't see, but I can hear the clock ticking somewhere and every moment is a rush.
I am not writing much, I am waiting for something, something big that will make me fall in love with my work again and it's taking time.
I don't read the papers, I haven't missed much, its phenomenal how much one can learn by just over-hearing.
I love the drive back home more than ever, the music is a given, it calms me enough to get back in contact with people.
Every day lived is like a landmark, life is getting unpredictable, the moment will never return, and I don't want to let any pass without a notice.
I've sipped endless cups of coffee alone, it's become a soothing part of my otherwise non-existent routine. The smell of coffee is enticing all over again. There are a few places that make you get away from the rush and watch time stand still. Amethyst will be etched in my memory for longer than I can forsee.
The more I rever this city, the lesser it demands reverance from me. I can never belong, but I feel inseparably linked.
I am beginning to regard Rasam rice and curd rice as regular food, and I give into cravings of it at 3am or some hour as unearthly at that.
The ECR will remain my little unexplored secret, something I shall traverse once surity sets in.
I can't get myself to switch channels when Tamil music plays on the FM, it seems to have seeped into deeper levels of acceptance, almost synonymous with normalcy.
I am safe, undoubtedly, and that's a feeling beyond expression.
Colours still speak loud about my moods.
I am hooked to Tere Bin by Rabbi, it plays on loop on my comp and phone, all day long.
I've seen so much wear off, I've begun doubting anything stays. I've developed an ability to detach, something I considered myself incapable of.
I've begun sounding busy when I am, or would rather not talk.
I visit art galleries more often that I ever did, I spend hours in them and I can tell an artist by a painting.
An unsettling feeling grips me at the mention of a place in the city I haven't visited.
I've developed a strange, almost obsessive liking for mushrooms.
I've begun disregarding corporate culture and flout every norm I thought I couldn't.
I haven't slept or worken up on the same time on two consecutive days in a long long time.
I love walking barefoot on the office floor, I love standing outside the press in the evenings and listening to rhythm.
I take an intentional detour almost everytime I drive in the evenings.
I dream of a getaway all by myself, and I can't seem to supress the urge.
I haven't tied up my hair in a month( I've lost every clip/ band) and the smell of my own hair makes me heady.
I've spent an evening where everything I sipped or ate had a flavouring of cinnamon from whiskey with cinnamon to crepes to cakes.
I've left quite a few calls unreturned, and I still remember the date and time of each.
I've decided to spend an entire day shopping for things I desperately need, it includes clips, a tin opener and many knick-knacks I've been listing.
I still wake up wishing it rained. I dream in the mornings and don't disconnect for hours of wakefullness.