Eight thirty. A cup of yesterday morning’s coffee, borrowed air-pot full of this morning’s fresh. The sun has crested the happy valley mountains and is striking the back wall. There is golden light everywhere, turning plushie duckie, duvet, and white pillow cases the color of butter and clotted cream.
Last night, I biked through town like I used to do. I always think of you, even when I’m on my way somewhere new. I was on my way to you, and it was strange to see your face. Your teeth have changed. So has your timbre. So has your heart.
You belong to a world that is far apart. And thank the stars.
In thinking I would spend the next few hours alone, I glimpsed a newer friend. We shared about our lives, our dreams, our acts of resistance and love in this world. We talked openly about life paths, about how we saw a similar place, about alternatives. We drew symbols we don’t yet have names for. We shared created sentences about the world.
The bakery closed and we both had to go.
I brought medicine to a friend, like I’m wont to do. We drank tea and talked, but in the end — I think, it was not enough. Uncertainty and perhaps other things grip at me. They are brambles and I sink under them in my sleep.
The sun is both brighter and sharper now, making こだま [kodama] glow around the fuzzy white edges. Tree spirit hangs in the corner of this room that has — in so many ways — so quickly become my safe space. I come here when I need to get away, need to work, need to find solace and love. Need to breathe.
Today will be a long day of many things I’ve purposefully obligated myself to. I love the sensation of knowing how much time I have, and then giving it away.
I give what I have and resist those who try to take more. A defence mechanism thirty years old. Instinct protected me when my heart and brain didn’t know better. Now, I know better. And yet, the old guards make the most sense. They were my natural mode back then, and I don’t begrudge myself them.The sun is high above the mountain line now and turning the blue sky white. The wispy clouds in the distance melt away. It is a clear day. Creative. And full of light.