in my world

Sometimes I imagine myself in a sepia tone world:

I'm alone at home. The house is a loft, I've always wanted one, and i'm wearing this...beautiful flannel shirt, quite like the one i'm wearing right now, but not blue. Of course it's not blue, it's in sepia tone so it's somewhat brown and beije, very flowy and light. I'm also wearing tight dark jeans and I'm barefooted, like we would be on a beach.

Then, still with the sepia in mind, think of an almost empty room: it has a carpet, cushions to sit on, a chaise longe, a bed and a small kitchen on the side.

The carpet is enormous, covers the entire space, it's red and made of cotton so I feel comfortable walking on it;

the cushions are equally big, and puffy. There's 3 or 4 of them so I can put my clothes, cell and laptop on, I like having a messy and full place. They have a very clean eggish colour and are filled with feathers so the fluffiness inhances;

the chaise longe is for me to lay down while listening to calm music or just read. It's white, very white, a bright and bold white, like chaulk. I love it, it's my favorite thing in the loft;

the bed is a sommier, with a dark brown cover and baby yellow sheets. It's one of those giant king size beds they make nowadays, you know, and to jump on it makes you forget you're on Earth, like you're back to your childhood;

last but not least: the kitchen. A gorgeous, gracefully small kitchen with wood cabinets, a marble counter and a little rug in the middle. It connects with the rest of the house so the bricker-y walls are all the same colour: light brown. As you can see, I adore warm colours.

Almost forgot: there's a tv and a stereo and a...a record player, one of those that plays vinyls. My dad has 60 LPs that I'm dying to hear with every pour of my body and soul. Might be exagerating but i've been told that it sounds better than CD and curiosity will deffinetly kill me.

Anyhow, the TV is an LCD, 32 inches, and it's on top of the stereo, which is surrounded with lovely dark brazilian wood furniture, and on the side, the vintage greatness of the house: my old gold framed mirror.

There's a bathroom in the apartment but it's just like any other bathroom in the world so I won't describe it. OK, I can say this: it's silver.

The loft: grand by nature, like in every NYC building, it looks similar to a warehouse. As the walls are not empty, they have four, very large windows spread around the room, and one of them has a little balcony where i put some plants to seem like there's life on the street. On these walls there's also black and white photographs I took while in downtown Lisbon, to remind me of Portugal. Finally, on the ceiling there's two lamps that emmanate a bright orangey light when it's dark.

Now it isn't. I have all the windows uncovered and, as it is a brilliant summer day, the sun is shining brighter than my fluorescent nail polish.

I put the radio on. Grace by Jeff Buckley is playing. I start to swing at the sound of music, goofing with my flannel shirt as if it were a dress. Then I go to dance in circles, swinging and swinging, and put my feet like ballerinas put them. oops, I step on one of my cats (i have two), FurBall, and I pick it up to dance with me. The little one falls asleep in my arms and I stop and stare at it, in the middle of the carpet, with my blondish-looks-like-i-just-woke-up hair hanging and the sunshine bestowing us with an endeared look in my face. I smile out of joy. I'm thinking that's how I'd like to stay forever. Still.

Still in sepia. Still, like a photograph. Still, like a memory.

Still(,) like a dream.