A Good Tired

A lot of the time, I birth art from a place of pain and emotional distress. I made the mistake of thinking my most profound expressions would be that of pain, of sadness, anger, depression, and all their unnamed associates. Today, I strive to write from a different place.

As intensely and at times excessively social as I am, I spoke to a friend who wanted to spend time with me, and decided to turn it into a tea party. I promised myself a while back that I would satisfy my sweet cravings with my own hand, and currently, I crave chocolate chip cookies.

I reached out to many, gleeful at the thought that a party that spontaneously existed and took shape on a whim was going to become a memory I would cherish and hold on to for a very long time.

So I baked, and prepared, connected with people I hadn’t seen in forever, walking about so exhausted that it felt almost like drunken stupor. But I did not feel the need to retreat, reschedule, cancel, or take cover and recuperate. Instead, I found satisfaction in it. I found that doing things to show care and affection can be so enjoyable when it’s not being demanded or expected of you by virtue of your demographic. Seeing my friends enjoy the fruits of mine and my mother’s labour, fighting food comas (and at times losing) gave me satisfaction. I enjoyed it thoroughly, and it took a great effort to pull the brakes. And so I round up a wonderful day with a post, from a progressively happier place.

There’ll be more tea parties in the future.