Unclear ice

I don’t always know how to explain. Maybe sometimes I shouldn’t even try.

Tonight I will write my diary instead of a blog post. At least, to me, it all makes sense.

I will be back when my head is a little bit more clear and the ice cubes in my drink has melted.

this rum

this room

a bit of lime

some perception of time

I hold it close

as close as I can grasp

a sense

a recollection

the distant chimes

the subdued silence

all of which vertical events of life

this, now-here…