lusty

some days are different; not necessarily due to the things that happened in them, but because of a certain luminosity, clarity of perception, and intensity of experience that is hard to forget. they stand out from memory like polished jewels.

this was one such day.

it was summer, hot and bright and tempting. no way i would sit and study at the makeshift desk in my tiny room, or even on our balcony with the busstop directly in front of it. Alas: study i must. or so I thought... what wonderful stroke of luck that we lived only a few minutes from the river.

so here I sit now on my blanket, surrounded by books, print-outs, notebooks and pens, totally determined – or so i thought. despite all good intentions my brain cannot be coaxed to take an interest in contemporary chinese politics. how random and absurdly trivial this stuff seems today. why am I studying that?

resolutely I force that train of thought to change direction: today is not a day for questioning my life decisions. inconvenient enough that, in my mind anyway, rational thought and sensory delight seem to be mutually exclusive. inconvenient enough that the last year of my higher education coincides with my personal summer of love – my personal summer of sex, red wine and neo-swing.

it was about time: five or six years ago i had decided that sex was pointless, the monogamous relationship a pathetic attempt at gaining an illusion of security, and interhuman interaction generally a waste of time. studying for my bachelor´s degree in sinology and religious studies had kept me tremendously busy anyway, the little spare time was spent in my lovely rooftop appartment with my cats, my diary and tv documentaries. my safe haven. my hermitage. my refuge from distractions and trivialities, insecurities and other uncomfortable emotions, from …