#scribbled notes

I think the simplest would be to say indefinite hiatus.

Lately the days pass by in a rush, at uttermost speed. Which day, week, year are we in? It all feels overlapping, occuring at once, no time left, a strange concomitance of everything - past present future. There are no shades left while a feeling of tiredness overgrows my experiences and feeling. All that is left are coffee spills and fading notes on grocery shopping lists, runs in stockings and peaches in my basket, plans and missed opportunities, flower petals on the ground and a mandolin playing from another room, while my childhood dreams ran along with future ghosts in grey and wrinkels, lying in the grass, beneath the shadow that my fig tree spends, graciously, telling them stories of a summer of rush, a tale of ripe fruits and broken glass, bloody feets among the stones, awaiting something, not yet known, something calm maybe or the eye of a storm...it doesn' t seem of a difference no more...

in Playful land