4pm and on, in a constant rush. Worlds and worlds behind sunglasses, racing with the clouds and the shadows: A vast multicoloured texture, hard to spot details and nuances but fairly overwhelmed by its magnitude. Letting pulse settle and then soar again. Until these familiar treelines cross horizons and the day dresses in evening once more.
4pm and cautiously on. Slow as always once the usual beat of the hours allows for some more lenient mode of the self to be in. Listening ongoing chatter on the stairs, trying to focus on the sound of voices much more than on the actual words. And again running into that odd perception of mistaking people with someone hardly to be met at this time and in this place. Context breach. Faulty memory.
4pm and on. Disconnected. Filed notes. A brief sigh and a window opened wide. Amazing to experience the aural mood in the neigbhourhood shift and transform along the hours. Always takes a few moments to realign with oneself. Early and late the day.
(Blinking, finally; light of sun like caught in between the terrace railings. Office neighbourhood, a young couple sitting on the roof near the crossroad, apparently having wine as the afternoon passes on. Some wind in hair, some sense of warmer weeks in mood. Withdrawn, watching, listening.)
🛒Undesirable tasks: Buying groceries at the organic store. Repeatedly hit in the face by a cycling helmet carelessly hanging from a backpack and noticing both to probably be much more expensive than ones own bicycle. Lost in disturbing thoughts about envy, consumerism and privileged decisions to feel comfy first and foremost. Challenging conversations, another reality. No headphones to cancel the noise.