Things seem okay when you see purple fading into blue. And, things seem okay when at 79 km/h, with two windows down, the wind blowing in your face, and the volume at 25, you drive down the freeway across 160th where on both sides of your car are rolling, green hills, graced with crystal blue mountains in the background and, of course, the purple fading into blue. Within these two minutes though, the purple-blue binary has edged into a pink hue that seizes the sky just before the sunset. And as you surmount the slope with this scene fading behind you, you feel like maybe, just maybe you can take on what’s next — I said maybe. And having seen that scene, past your shoulders now, you’re brought out of your daydreams, your getaways from anxiety, and plunged into these thoughts. Mild thoughts about your surroundings, about the sky, about the mountain that seemed to say slow down and look at me, smile at me, please. About the grass that defined green, and about the faded outline of the moon sneaking in, convincing you that thoughts about how moments may be turning into memories before your eyes are not welcome. You come home, swing the door open, earphones in (also at full volume), and you type this. And before closing this, there’s already an ache in your heart that’s not tired, but eager to go back to writing about “mercantile operations.” When you see purple fade into blue, every tasteful memory comes to the fore of your lips and manifests into a smile and a joy that’s mild, just like that fade from purple into blue.
Just Typing 