I’ve been battling to write, for me, for a while now. That’s evident from the lack of regular posting here.
But then, this evening, as the twilight settled, the dog snoozed and I spun up Dylan’s latest creation and it became time to think. And write.
As an aside, as a rule, I don’t actually, usually like people called Dylan. There is one minor exception but call it a bad experience I had in primary school that involved a shittyshit of a person, who made me feel very small for many years and people called Dylan are normally not my finest. I find it internally hilarious that I can feel so incredibly close to someone who bears the name Dylan. Dylan, you’ve changed my opinion of Dylans the world over. Well done. You know how pedantic and pointed I can be about names.
I digress (as usual)…
There is a light that I see every night, from here. A million years and nine lifetimes ago, at the Shath, I used to squint out at night, out to the sea, and just in the centre of our view was this green billboard. Seeing that green light became calming for me, I suppose for its familiarity.
How funny then, as I sit here tonight on my new balcony, lifetimes away from that green billboard, I can see one here too. But it’s more triangular, slightly neon and – knowing my eyesight – quite possibly not even green. Haha. It’s probably grey, and I’m seeing a triangle, but it could quite easily be a giant billboard that says “light” or “sale” or something.
My eyesight has become terrible, to the point where I must be wearing glasses or else things are furry and blurred. Maybe I need that sharpness around my heart too, because I feel a little furry and blurred right now.
Not in a terrible way, just in a way I didn’t expect. Metaphorically, I feel like I’ve eaten a little too much and need to not take a turn past the buffet of life for a little. I’ll skip the dancing, to rest my feet too, thank you.
So you’ll find me, drinking my post-dinner coffee, hunting for a waferthin mint, at my table in the corner. Quiet.