I'm tired of NEET-dom but too anxious to take on responsibilities in fear of burning out again. My friends ask questions along the lines of "What are you up to?" Answering with "Nothing…" is ageing like milk. I'm a fucking cow. If stagnancy persists they'll abandon the farm in search of better pastures. Then I'll be a lonely cow. Moo.>>533
On the way back home in one of our last road trips, the sunset pierced through thick billows. I noted it looked particularly tangerine and left it at that. Napped for a bit. They told me it was a fun trip and that we should hike more. I concurred. We paid several toll fees. Argued over a playlist. They won, and then died a few months later.
Since then remembering what they looked like, their voice, who they were and how we were has been almost impossible. If it hadn't been for a video saved in my laptop I would have forgotten everything. Yet details of that memory on the road ring crystal clear: the sun, the clouds, the music and the mileage ticking away, but never the person I shared the moment with.
It's happened a few times over the past year. When revisiting a foreign tourist spot they dragged me to (dunes, sand, an ice cream stand), lying on my back in a public pool (mandatory goggles, laps, butterfly strokes), looking through their old photos (the same pose again and again, to look slimmer, they said). It's not a sad feeling. Bittersweet, maybe, but more surreal tinged with nostalgia and the missing pieces nagging my brain. I've tried writing about it and failed each time. I can't say this is a successful attempt. Maybe it's as close as I get to articulating an incomplete thought.