apt-get's journal

6:50 AM.

Woke up. Melatonin does that to me now. I take it at 11:30pm, half a milligram, watch an ep of SDF Macross as the drowsiness engulfs me, and as I fall into unconsciousness, dreamscapes I hadn't met in a long time come back to me, vivid and a little melancholic. Then I wake up, earlier than the sun, slightly groggy but calm, et je me glisse dans le séjour.

A strange stillness envelops the room. Phares dans la nuit, soft floodlights atop the glass cabinet cast their warm glow upon the dolls and figs sitting on its shelves, gentle enough to welcome your gaze even as you stare directly at them, with that sort-of banding effect around, you know? Each concentric circle gets a little dimmer until you can't really see the light itself anymore, only what it lits up and brings relief to.

I can hear the tram ringing its bells au petit matin. The sun has not yet risen, mais la ville lumière déroule déjà ses habitudes : camions, nettoyage, petites mains dévouées qui font battre son coeur, circuler son sang. Elle ne dort que d'un oeil, de toute manière, comme la plupart des cités de sa taille, mais ça reste un moment de repos pour elle.

It was yesterday, and by that I mean the night before yesterday, still past midnight but on the cusp of dropping unto my pillow into sleep, and I was wishing sushi a good night (as I always do), that I felt myself wishing for a little solitude in stasis. A bullet time of my own: 15m² room, furnished with books, snacks, cup noodles, pen and paper.
⸺Or maybe just a keyboard and writing prompt? I've honestly never been a huge physical writing guy, trop lent, mes traits pas assez fluides, la sensation d'en faire trop et pas assez en même temps. My thoughts run in qwerty, and I really do need to backspace on occasion, reformulate, and move my caret around, even when talking out loud, honestly... although I get better at the whole conversation thing with age, especially in English⸺
No computing device, though, solely an outlet for words. That's my time capsule.

And I'd walk in, spend a day or two there. Daze out, stare out the window. What time is it? What's the horizon like? Depends, but mainly dawn and dusk, in that moment where the sky transitions from orange to dark blue with a full rainbow spectrum in-between. Have you ever been high up a tower or skyscraper around that time? Ever since I moved to the 17th floor, I've been able to catch this sight every so often.

And I'd like there, lost in my daydreams, just like I did in the covid days, lethargic, unable to move a muscle, except this time it comes from a place of comfort, not solitude. And unlike back then, I'm able to get up, sensations arising and rushing again, and I'd listen to my favorite music, listen until my ears tire and I've had my fill. That's when I'd take a cue it's probably time to leave, slip back to busy town, close the door behind me.

Not a second has passed: I greet you with a smile upon my face, and let the clock tick again.