Not just the abbreviated spring, but the brief nights make me feel that I am being rushed along. It is not yet five o'clock, and the moon, barely past full, begins to pale while hours of its journey to the western horizon remain. In the northeast, the dark brushwork of trees emerges as the sky brightens with imminent dawn. The night air has hardly cooled before the sun returns to bring more heat. The heat and the long twilight of the evenings are the only things that linger now. All else rushes past like bits of roadside seen from a speeding car driven by a madman bent on some aimless journey.
-
- rejectomorph (
flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind
Rush
Not just the abbreviated spring, but the brief nights make me feel that I am being rushed along. It is not yet five o'clock, and the moon, barely past full, begins to pale while hours of its journey to the western horizon remain. In the northeast, the dark brushwork of trees emerges as the sky brightens with imminent dawn. The night air has hardly cooled before the sun returns to bring more heat. The heat and the long twilight of the evenings are the only things that linger now. All else rushes past like bits of roadside seen from a speeding car driven by a madman bent on some aimless journey.
Recent Posts from This Journal
-
52/96-97: Not Dream
Saturday night I went to bed rather early in the evening, though I don't recall exactly when. Both Friday and Saturday had felt exhausting to me,…
-
52/91-92-93-94-95: Lost
It appears that I lost track of most of a week. I remember sleeping a lot, often at odd hours, and having some odd dreams, and skipping some meals,…
-
52/90: What's Eating Me?
Afternoon passes as I sit thinking about fixing the dinner I didn't fix last night. It is Sunday and so there is no mail to fetch. Dinner would be…
- Post a new comment
- 0 comments
- Post a new comment
- 0 comments