Category: thoughts

Things seem okay when you see purple fading into blue. And, things seem okay when at 90 km/h, with two windows down, the wind blowing in your face, and the volume at 35, you drive down the freeway across 160^th where on both sides of you are rolling, green hills, graced with a background of crystal blue mountains 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 your car climbs the slope, 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. Mild thoughts about your surroundings, about the world around you, about the sky, about the mountain that seemed to say slow down, look at me, smile at me — please. Thoughts about the grass that defined teal, 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, manifesting a smile, a joy that’s again mild, just like that fade from purple into blue.