Uitwaaien (Dutch): Going out for a walk or to the countryside in order to clear one’s mind.
My mind is filled with clutter. Last week, last month, last year. He said, she said. Blue, grey, green. Coffee, burnt eggs, scrambled. Blinking bulb above my head, can’t fall asleep. Where do I go? The winds are howling across my windowpane. Nowhere else in my apartment can fill the empty void I want. My thoughts follow me like a spoiled shadow. Breaking into my house, the winds find the top of my hand. Breaking and entering. I try to call the cops but remember it’s just the wind. Last week, last month, last year, I had said something that I couldn’t take back. I wonder what that is. Searching through the crevices of lunch, I found a bagel I made last week. Wouldn’t hurt to eat. Threw up in the washroom. The wind taps at my window. The moon is calling somewhere. I can’t get up. I won’t be able to sleep. I close my eyes for dinner. Burnt pasta. It’s only burnt because I thought having burnt eggs weren’t enough for the day. No. It’s because I can’t cook. While I had the heat on I tried to remember what I said that day. Nothing came. Nothing will. Half an hour of staring at the ceiling and I think I’ll die of sleep deprivation. I get up, slap on a coat, and leave my home. The wind is the first to hit me. Of course. Followed by the moon and stars. Thousands of those blinking lights. I begin to walk.
I remember now.