Noncompliance

Tomorrow it's double the hours at work. I feel like I want to curl up in my bed and stay under the covers. The apartment is so silent at this hour. I listen to some soft music and drink some white wine in hopes that sleep will come soon. Nonetheless, it doesn't come and I'm still in front of the computer. The classic music has given way into some sort of soft pop.

I'm the Director of Intelligence of the Interpol-Italy. No big secret there. I'm always being interviewed and asked all types of questions. I'm 24. How did I make it here so young? How does it feel? Does it feel as though I've conquered the world? Have I made it? They question me about my PHD about my genius IQ, about the way I handle crimes and investigations. Sometimes I'm listening to the questions, other times I'm thinking about a pretty dress I'd like to design. It's as if two people live inside of me. One who loves mental games and enjoys the position of power given by my talent. The other is much calmer but enjoys the attention all the same: a designer an overachiever, a model... a believer.

It started to rain. I want to hold a hand, I want to whisper into someone's ear how warm it is under the covers, I want to embrace someone and allow them to hold me close. I want peace for the world, for myself, for my dearest friends. I want to sleep, for a long time, dreaming of a world where kisses and caresses are as real as my illusions.

It's so lonely right now. The winds is blowing. Nemo is swimming around in his tank. He is my companion. In the darkness, when not even the light of the moon accompanies me, I think about my existence. Who is this Lucille and what does she do? And then I realize that all I do is complain. I think I'm shutting down this blog, at least you woudln't have to see this wicked side of me. I'm so tired. If I close the blog then I wouldn't be tempted to write. IN fact, I wouldn't write at all.

It might not be so bad a move.

Sometimes I wonder... how can I get rid of all this regret?