buzz & fade

time rolls on weekend hits hyperspace already it’s gone and over and done good times good times sleep won’t come to me work looms over me no rest for the wicked i guess i should be taking more photos but instead i’m doing more work i gotta stick to my own priorities or i’ll just get bitter again it’s been raining so much these days but i always seem to miss it i should count my blessings i know i know so many places to go on a weekday but nothing really going on in any of ’em so what now? »

little changes, all at once. rediscovering old books (after unpacking a few boxes of them I’d left alone for a few years). another office to get used to, in another part of town i never really got to know well in this kind of way. dividing my time between all the people who want it. i’m on the way home again, watching the curve of the rails as we turn north just after rushall station, feeling all self-conscious about daring to look at other people in the carriage while I wonder what they’re thinking about? »

We stopped by a local baker on the way home yesterday. Staring into the back of the shop while Lian ordered, the darkness hung heavy in the old space, mixed with the smell of bread. An old clock up on a faded wall, along with a chinese character or two (I was too busy looking to ask for a translation). I worry about the little things, like, how do they survive? »

I’m reading an old book I’d just unpacked from some old boxes by an old writer who makes you want to stay home but here I am in a shop, reading while I wait to pick up some altered clothes. Just as I finally get my turn, an old woman steals in and asks the girl “what’s the name of this shop?” »

Walking home I see an old lady on the swing, pink trousers and headscarf. She swung slowly but deliberately, a small but measured moment of fun. »