things are changing, i think i should let them

it’s 11:29am on a sunday. i live in a new city now. it has been a week since i arrived. going to a new place accentuates the parts of you that have changed since you did that last. every social interaction, choice, food and friend is a stark contrast to when i was 18 in dublin, or 20 in paris. it is still new, and my mind is still swarming with uncertainty, but it is better than any of the other moves before. just the empirics of a few more years of life shows me i know myself better.

my bed frame is round and rickety and made of wood. it’s not just me who’s reported having two small single beds in their rooms in this new city; here is is, a new eccentricity, a new place, maybe some added space for future guests.

i’m face to face with the paradox of how time passes and we have less of it, but simultaneously we feel less of an inclination to rush. i do two too many things in a day and my body careens to a halt. life is a science, and by that i mean it’s constantly trial and error, till our day of death. not a bad thing to be part of a lifelong experiment. maybe this framing will remind us to play more, try weirder, dream bigger.

there was a bialetti in our flat when we arrived. the mocha pot is a beautiful thing. my flatmate and i take turns making coffee in the mornings. this morning it’s his go. i will make eggs, as i have been doing every morning since i’ve arrived. it’s not a half bad way to be starting these new days in this new city.

below: blurry evidence of our morning routine