No holds barred at all. I remember it being 4PM and thinking I could be Justin Vernon. Keeping voice as low as possible so parents over at the other room won’t know I’m in an imaginary log cabin making songs for Emma, forever ago. I pray this sudden shamelessness be just a phase.
I live in the middle of the city as in literally, the spot on middle. As in five steps beyond our gates is the national highway. As in the noise of bars and hopeless romantics is what lulls me to sleep. Amazingly, in my 11 years living in this city, I’ve discovered a time of day when it gets a bit peaceful; 5-6 pm, just when the hellish tropical sun decides to treat you with a pleasant warmth and covers the usually irritating cityscape in golden twinkly mist.
So on weekends and on free-cut afternoons, to make up for the lack of a nice patio/porch/yard with a swing set, I go to our rooftop, have a snack or bring some stuff up and write. I’ve been going up here all summer, thus the permanent tan. I’ve noticed myself growing ever more prepared with each trip:
- blueberry tea
- Mum’s banana cupcake
- pen and notebook
- mp3 player
I love me some quiet time.
Everybody does. In this particular trip I’ve seen a few else among the family sneak up here too: Lolo, who’s been tending his charming garden (last summer we had awesome corn crops!), Tita, who was just visiting, I’m pretty curious about why she came up and Mum - obviously trying to see what I’ve been up to. I found a cigarette butt when I got there too. Well, somebody must’ve had issues.
3 cups of berry-infused tea in,
30 sad songs on queue,
0% of Economics notes digested.
I have no idea how I made the switch to thinking this is a good time to get up and write, howevs it’s happening.
I love how quiet it gets this time of day. Gives me a lot more psychological room to swim in my mind’s pensieve in this 3x4 meter nook.
Gosh this tea’s strong.
Noah and the Whale - Five Years Time
And though really all these moments are just in my head, I’ll be thinking about them as I’m lying in bed. And I know that really, it may not even come true but in my mind I’m having a pretty good time with you.
In five years time, I might not know you. In five years time, we might not speak. In five years time, we might not get along. In five years time you might just prove me wrong.