My white shirt sticks to my skin. I begin peeling off each layer.
Shirt. Trousers. Underwear.
I survey my light brown packaging.
My necklace the only shine agaisnt matte.
Skin raised in a million dots
Goosebumps.
Cold.
Warm within.
Wrap my white towel around me and slink into bed.
Little pleasures.
One of my favorite blogs, yet tantalisingly not being updated is Colombohemian.
I’m not going to write about the blog. Just the word. Colombo. Bohemian. Colombohemian. Smart. :)
An encompasation of the city and the new age literates, who openly discuss thoughts, sub-cultures, sex, food, love, break ups, shake ups, world affairs, family, hardships…life.
The American College Dictionary explains a Bohemian as “a person with artistic or intellectual tendencies, who lives and acts with no regard for conventional rules of behavior.”
In my opinion that is what we are. We work. In structured pattens. Love. In structured patterns. We respect. In structured pattens. Perfectly normal people. In the day to day grind. But the moment we hit our blogs…
Thoughts. Unconventional thoughts.
In verse form. In paragraphs. In videos. In comments. In art.
Art.
We are not born to the 1800s literary slums of France. Living in quarters with like minds, crouched over our typewriters, drinking the daily absinth and inhaling our smoke.
It is only the setting – which has evolved. Into Mac books and desktops. Typing away. Deleting. Typing away. Our daily thoughts and emotions into pseudo named pages.
And appreciating each other. No clash of religion, races. The niche of Colombo society. Sitting at their computers, typing.
Colombohemians. May they grow and prosper.
