Nothing prepares you for that first day when leaving work and as you step outside the door you are confronted by the night. A little bit inside lets out a sigh with the realization that it’s that time of the year again. Barely a day after Halloween and that coffee chain has already put up the festive colors of the upcoming season. 

  
Waking up at the right time and it is light outside is the benefit that is supposed to balance that out. We commented to each other how nice it is as we headed and prepared for our respective jobs in the morning. We flatmates only see each other on occasion. Our schedules convoluted and only intersecting at particular points in time. 

The surrealism of this time rises into my consciousness often these days. I’m not sure if the sickness that struck me last week isn’t continuing its delirious hold on my faculties. That surrealism extends to my working life and the synchronistic way the slate for the day reinforces this observation. The strangeness of the way things work seem as if seen with fresh eyes and somehow the skills needed to deal with the situations manifest themselves at the right moment. It’s like slipping into a character. 

  
The bolognese sauce had matured nicely. Although tasting it I wonder how my flavoring was affected by the congestion that I’ve been suffering from since last week. No matter it is chalk full of healthy ingredients and no doubt is doing me well. I portioned the rest after eating some to enjoy as needed in the next few months. 

  
I’ve been enthralled by a few stories on the web. Trying to read as voraciously as possible. Many interesting things happening all over the place. This one was kind of neat. The intersection of an immediate and perceptual lens onto the lives of people living their lives and loosing obscurity. Just like this story. The story of how culture grows and develops. It’s like the euphoria of a germinating seed developing into its flowering body. Both of these stories are in the autumn season of their life cycle. Each representing a different era in time. In that same vein this story illustrates a determination against the dominating forces of our times. 

  
For some reason I decided to explore the city. The night felt quiet and the images demonstrate the emptiness of the streets in the now deep evening hours. I’m conscious of where I am as I set up my equipment for a long exposure. The diminished light is more valuable when it’s scarce and care must be taken when capturing it’s bounty. I look around during the aquisition. The barren streets with dark figures bundled up in all their possessions sleeping rough. These figures are here and there. Some young while others old. Not all are asleep one was scouring the steps with an LED searching for any scrap with value. That guy should have been there on the platform a day ago when someone dropped a little baggie filled with powder. I was just about to say something but there were too many around. This bright little square contrasted with the dark stone of the platform. To an untrained eye it’s just a speck of garbage that litters the floor. I wonder if anyone picked it up and thought to themselves “score!”

  
The juice in the battery failed me at some point and I returned knowing that there was an important phone call that I was going to have in the morning. It was late and I was trying to be quiet but unfortunately clumsily knocked something from my nightstand. Hope I didn’t wake up my flatmate sigh. 

  
The conversation went well and I’m trying to reestablish a pattern of behavior that will lead me towards some physical goals. I know that at this stage I am also combatting Father Time. So with these thoughts I compose myself in order to face the afternoon shift ahead.