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It has been grey and damp for two days. Wonderful weather for ducks and those of us who like (Brisbane) winter. Monday dragged her feet sullenly across the lowering sky, grumbling. A day of data entry, heavy with procrastination. The need for glassess manifests after a few hours and I find myself excuses to get away from the screen under fluorescent shimmer. Eyelids weighed down by a weekend of socialisation when my deepest desire was to sleep in and bake cookies.
Still the days slide by in synchrony with my pillow and soon they shall run into each other, melting down the essence of time into pure moments. The weekend: good friends long absent and a night to debauch over good music and chemistry, followed by five days of freedom. Perhaps not well earned, but time to re-explore my psyche and raise my sinking work ethic. Time also to re-explore old friendships and again walk the streets of this city of reinvention, following the stories in the brickwork and the faces. Following my own story and retracing one once so entwined with mine. Old friends, cherished treasures.
And the world is slowly brightening, lightening each day as worries dissolve into the morning skies. Pale-headed rosellas grace my lunch reprieves and everywhere the colour yellow, rallying with it's nascent cheer. Some simple pleasures shall always be: warm embraces and giving in to the gravity of bed and sleep, and endless cups of freshly brewed tea. Days falling into rhythm once again, intransient as breathing...
Still the days slide by in synchrony with my pillow and soon they shall run into each other, melting down the essence of time into pure moments. The weekend: good friends long absent and a night to debauch over good music and chemistry, followed by five days of freedom. Perhaps not well earned, but time to re-explore my psyche and raise my sinking work ethic. Time also to re-explore old friendships and again walk the streets of this city of reinvention, following the stories in the brickwork and the faces. Following my own story and retracing one once so entwined with mine. Old friends, cherished treasures.
And the world is slowly brightening, lightening each day as worries dissolve into the morning skies. Pale-headed rosellas grace my lunch reprieves and everywhere the colour yellow, rallying with it's nascent cheer. Some simple pleasures shall always be: warm embraces and giving in to the gravity of bed and sleep, and endless cups of freshly brewed tea. Days falling into rhythm once again, intransient as breathing...
