Bookmark #899

Wanted to write earlier today, but I was busy repairing a few things at home, doing laundry and then hanging it out to dry, vacuuming the flat, all so I could leave for brunch on time. And then, in the sunny cafe with a garden trail, we had our food and talked a little bit. This aspect of found family, of coming across people in life, and somehow sticking for and with them beyond the years, and leaving, of course, when you have to, but then, coming across them once again baffles and intrigues me in equal parts. I look around at how quickly, how instantaneously I have felt at home and, for the lack of a better word, how safe it has made me feel. And I thought of this talking over brunch, laughing, and then, I thought of it for the rest of the day and the evening, while having dinner, while playing cards, while walking around the township, especially over the grass patches with the little signs telling us to not do so, that the grass was forbidden. I do not understand it, of course. What else is grass good for? But regardless, there is nothing more pleasurable than a mild rebellion with your friends you partake in with frictionless enthusiasm.

And wanted to write later today, but I was on the phone with someone I had not talked to in months, and despite our clocks showing different times, it was not important enough a concern for me. Before I knew it, three hours had gone by. Despite the different times on the clocks still, we could not have felt any closer, and the echo of the laughter still remains fresh in my mind, even though the apartment has fallen silent and remains anxious to end the day. Of course, I could have written before the brunch, after dinner, in the little moment I had in the evening, or the few before I dialled the number. Of course, I could have cut the call short, and of course, I could have done things differently, but if I were honest, this effervescence of increased activity in my life has left little attention to spare for other things, writing most of all.

For the first time in a long time, these words have taken a back seat. I could not tell you if this is good or the worst thing in the world yet, but there is no shred of guilt in me.

// if you want to support this walk to nowhere, you can pitch in here