I painted my nails a positive color today.
Not one that is dirty or one that is dry.
Not one that glitters because I want to be a child.
Not one that is disturbingly transparent.
Not an appalling color.
They are green.
Matte, yet glossy.
I bought this bottle months ago on impulse.
It is a bottle that breaks apart easily.
This has always been a bad sign.
My first bottles of nailpolish were like this.
When I was four, five, six.
When I spilled the paint, the lacquer, the varnish
on my yellow tights.
Tights I wish I had now.
When the color refused to go away.
I alrwady knew what would trouble me in my future.
I know not so much now.
I have learned to deal with my problems.
But sometimes, often, I choose not to.
Often I choose to let them be.
Often I choose to let nature explain all my issues.
Often, I feel simply like this.
Often I claim to be indifferent.
And that is when I cannot sleep.