Vasiliki

I had thought of what I was going to do with my given day for some time. I had decided that instead of making it a self-reflective kind of diary entry I would use my day to ask strangers questions, people on the El, people at Clark park, people I encountered on my way to work, about fleeting moments in their day. I’d ask if they’d listened to a song that moved them, or seen something beautiful, or what they were most excited about on this particular crisp and sunny Wednesday. It has always been easier and more interesting for me to shift focus onto other people, become observer, listen.

Instead of my half-formed sociological survey I spent the day thrashing in bed, in the confusion of a cold and sweaty fever, day two or so of the flu. I called out of work and lay baking, a migraine sloshing around my brain, negating almost any active thought. I negotiated the way I would when I was sick as a child: God if you ease my migraine, I'll be better. I wondered if other people made deals like this. I wondered if they were as confused about them as I was. Time lost all meaning. My mom called and I picked up, but have little recollection of what was said. I ate some soup at some point. I thought about how good it will feel when I can stand up and brush my teeth.

Some overused sentiment in here about how life happens when you make other plans, etc. etc. Overused but for good reason I guess. Bodies ache, time is interrupted, challenged. Often at a much greater scale than from the flu. In the evening, as my fever slowly started to slink away, I felt some clarity about my life. About how I am reluctant to make plans out of a twofold fear of failing and of finality, probably. I thought about how I want to plan more, despite this, to be more intentional, more thoughtful with myself. I stepped out onto the porch as the sun was setting. I watched people get off the trolley, walk home, sit patiently and impatiently in their cars in the blue and orange glow. I hadn’t been outside in a couple of days and seeing other people living made me feel very alive.

Vasiliki loves painting, writing poetry, reading, history, learning, and thinking about how to build a different world. you can find her taking a walk or on instagram @little_lung_club