“Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.”
that free way to flow during days off, paths without marks or limits, free of charge, non-complex solutions to achieve states of joy.
early hours, silence outdoors, few notes in my head, mind claiming for resting moments and uncomplicated situations around.
achieving a moment for listening.
to feel it to flow.
“Dans cette vie qui vous apparaît quelquefois comme un grand terrain vague sans poteau indicateur, au milieu de toutes les lignes de fuite et les horizons perdus, on aimerait trouver des points de repère, dresser une sorte de cadastre pour n’avoir plus l’impression de naviguer au hasard. Alors, on tisse des liens, on essaye de rendre plus stables des rencontres hasardeuses.”
fast moves in between, finding calm and resting moments as priority. failing a that second one, evidently.
motion vs perspective of urgency at bureau.
to flow and let it go.
~
~~~
time | lack of allowance.
early hours, everything is quiet outside, darkness is still ruling the path, sleepy memories from last night are still playing with my thoughts, the reason slightly becomes into soft light, slow steps into a new day.
routines are stronger than ever, ode to our dreams, a dedication to what keep us alive, to what makes us feel better.
to find the motion we need.
shall dream and feel, past and present walking around, overlapping senses, releasing memories, giving life. odd and safe ways to stay awake.
cycles, after 20 years, returning.
ballad of memory.
early hours.
starting at 5:30 am carries some benefits. the morning next the sky was full covered by clouds and a soft rain was breaking the silence. how much I missed rain during this time of the year.
a way to remember.
relief in hope, motion in stillness, two non-comparable states to find.
retain to grow and learn.
emotions are not quiet.
feels the motion, it goes.
all of our dreams you tightly hold.
early motion.
The Moon was but a Chin of Gold
A Night or two ago—
And now she turns Her perfect Face
Upon the World below—
— Emily Dickinson
--
5:40 am was the hour. full moon, silence, coffee in hand. beauty of stillness, finding motion in slow and early beginnings.
5:40 AM view.
feel you.
- intimacy of early hours.
stillness is necessary for motion, none of them can exist without each other.
why are we always looking for an explanation? are we looking a justification for our processes or for the final result? are we trying to increase a communication in between or are we just trying to fill empty spaces that were not achieved by ourselves and by our final result.
odd way we have to cover different paths resulting in an unclear way to express that the process has never ended and that the completion of something has nothing to do with the final result.
has the media increased the path used for communication or has just released a new way for having our gaps uncovered on unexpected ways.
nonsense early thoughts about a topic raised six days ago.
“Nice is a city of ghosts and specters, but I hope not to become one of them right away.”
the way perspective can be affected by motion.
notes to myself.
“On winter mornings when it’s dark and the air is crisp, the lights are still shining and the first customers are gathered at the counter like conspirators. They give you the illusion that the day will be a new adventure. And that illusion stats with you for at least some of the morning.”
orígenes y comienzos.
only the darkness and silence ruling outdoors can be felt at these hours, a distance song can be listened, early birds start breaking that tiny border between untold world and reality, our faces still show some scratches from the dreams we left unfinished, the awakening, taking slow steps, that clumsy game our thoughts enjoy each day.
the sense of being breaking the border between known and unknown paths.
how to get not forgotten.