its around 12 am. this could quite possibly be my favorite time of day. When everyones left to themselves, you know that most people my age aren’t asleep, but they are on their own at this time. It’s like a silent understanding, I have to go be alone now. I have a big mug of tea steaming to my right and a few buiscuits beside it. and the only sound i can hear is the sound of me typing and the creak of the keypad as i lean my palms against it. Its moments like this, when it seems like the whole world is at rest, not asleep, but okay with just letting things be whatever they are. All the angst, anxiety and stress of a day seems to just go for the moment. I know that its been phrased to stand still while the earth is moving, but i wonder what it would be like to move while the earth is still. I really wonder what it would be like. I feel like that sometimes, but i obviously am carried by the tide, forcefully or willingfully. It would just be nice to go around examining things in the stillness of air, carrying about your normal day but this time having a chance to really assess things for what they are without someone casting a glance at you for looking at them too long, having a childlike awe without being accused of being childish.
this weekend we all went to dublin and cork, ireland. Something about that place is so alive, you wouldn’t think with an overcast sky that you would feel so alive but you do. I think its the green. I don’t just mean the grass or the mossy covered trees. It overtakes everything. Almost as if even the most old and unappreciated parts of the city couldn’t stop the flourish, everywhere you look theres little sprouts of color, even where it seems its the dreariest, even where it seems theres lack of any color at all, something grows. And it doesn’t grow faint either, in a world so blended of pearly whites and grays precipitating over everything, you’d think the grass and the trees would come out looking the same, but they show their most vibrant colors. the drear gets swarmed by the most golden yellows and the most chlorophylled greens ranging from the highlight to the shadow theres at least twenty shades involved. We went to an open market with the best food I’ve had in a long time, if not ever. Theres a difference between food, and food, I know now. The hands that offered it across the displays were hands grateful to share. Encouraging hands to let others know their passion. These people came from all over and brought the best materials together to make the most fascinating assortments one can only find in gatherings of their same kind. There wasn’t one fruit, one cake, one piece of chocolate, one breadcrumb, slice of meat, piece of fish, or piece of pasta that wasn’t carefully thought out, hand prepared, and considered a prize to those whod receive. The prices of these foods weren’t high, because you can’t put prices on these types of things, it really is an art. I had a cup of coffee grounded right in front of me, and after a croissant from a woman who cupped my hands as she handed it to me. What a lovely breakfast. After finishing it, and looking over at my friends who had ordered orange juice squeezed in front of their very eyes, there was this feeling of good intention. In my thoughts, God intended us to have nourishment to live, and to be creative with that nourishment but to not get away with what its supposed to be purposed for. And this, was that. I didn’t feel lacking, or sick, or compliant or just satisfied like many of the ways i feel after eating normally, i felt good. I felt alive, i felt joy. Such vast but under appreciated things in life like nature and nourishment are well often overlooked. I thought I’d write about them not because they are, but because I wanted to.
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