I get up and do not feel like getting up, although I'm on vacation and I can have my time as I want. But I do not want to get up. Today I have laziness in the soul and do not know how it is possible to arrange this. I have laziness of drawing my smile to peek into the world. I have laziness of living and of living through myself.
I have laziness of writing, though I have firmly proposed to close half a chapter throughout the day. I have laziness of reading and the book stretches itself on the bedside table, looks at me and asks me if we are angered, because I give him the back. I have laziness of having nostalgias for breakfast, because I do not still have sugar to sweeten the sadness.
Too lazy to open memories and pictures, to look at the eyes of the woman I was and not knowing who I am now, right now. I have laziness of sewing my dreams and my hope. Laziness of preparing some coffee and clear the cobwebs of my mind.
I do not like to draw my smile. So, if we are going to meet each other in the street, I warn you: this lady who does not smile, this slept lady with her eyes almost sad… she is not me. I still have not woken up this morning.