Cool it mister ice cream sun//The storm is breaking with the shaking

[Written in the night]

Nostalgia hits me hardest in the later hours. In light minutes my mind seems to travel towards the future, beyond the occurring (the horizon where now ends). An obvious dichotomy of day and night, past and future.

My current space breathes with car rides (a common theme as of late), sunshine burning my skin, scent changes, early nights. My time was spent only a few weeks ago staying up late, old television softly glowing, the pressure of books against our knees (and mostly a blue couch) as the words tended to sink lower instead of into our heads (though we let on eventually that work was accomplished). I now read (although still mostly leisurely) to feel even that slight sense of study... Steady. A steady sense of grounding myself.

And I make it sound as if I am longing for the past, but only aspects of it. Because I know how exciting these summer moments are, full of beer froth and rock dust. I'm just longing to relive the quarter miles that took us to warm cookies and iced coffee.

--
[Written in daylight]

Four hours of sleep later and a warm shower slumbered and washed the twitch away. Time straightened itself out like floss being wrapped around one's index finger (the moment pulled into a curl).

I want to tightrope across this schedule of ours and be able to grab your hand and run. It's hard to break habits, and although we were not habitual, I'm hoping that the same thought has crossed you even for a second.

Because yeah, I miss you and stuffs!

[Everything Starts Where It Ends- Lovedrug & Zorbing- Stornoway]