I need shade, I need nutritious breakfast, I need to feel the earth underneath my feet and not have it sink away like so much sand.
I need to figure out where home is, and whether it exists at all, and whether its existence matters. I need to stop tearing myself apart along the fault-lines. I need to stop remembering, I need to stop forgetting.
I need to know that just because I’m in the Gulf doesn’t mean that I should carve a gulf, here, in the landscape of my fluttering, famished little heart.
I need a new pair of “respectable” pants.
I need a bloody SIM-card.
I need to let go of this notion that, somehow, Harry Potter will remain in my life forever (he loves me and leaves me, the git).
I need to figure out where the hell my life is going, and what the Urdu-speaking contingent is yelling about outside as well.
I need to go blond – it would be fitting.