Today I Thought...

things that go through my mind, long and short Instagram

[sweetboxfox]

saviour

"Don't be alarmed, but you saved me. I don't know from what or how but you did."

She considered this for a while. And then:

“If we both saved each other, does that mean we saved ourselves?”

[sweetboxfox]

The Uplifting

the trees lining London's streets clutch onto their red and yellow gowns, hoping to catch the late autumn sun in one last glorious display of gold, before the winter clouds blow swiftly in, gathering up the gasping leaves and releasing them into the mist...

in russell square, I saw the leaves and heard their stories

look at that one, she was caught off guard by a gust, snatching back at mother's outstreched wooden fingers receding as she tumbles helplessly through the blue---

this one has waited, is biding her time in the lull of an inhale she severs her ties              she whispers goodbye and with a twist          and a sigh                                     falls softly out of           her                 beloved       sky

this one has come a way, seduced by a breeze who crooned come with me! but maybe here she will finally be layed down?— not to be in his hurry the wind nearly dropped her, but in a breath she is scooped back into the fast lane until in her final hour she has seen more of this foggy town than in all her days as the jewel in mother’s lofty crown.

me, I’m going nowhere

take me with you

[sweetboxfox]

aufs Schiff

bis in die Ewigkeit funkelt das Meer aus tausend wässrigen Sonnen nahtlos ist der Morgen ohne wiederkehr über in die Mittagszeit zeronnen.

Träge tropft in mir die Frage wer eigentlich die Wellen trage; wie das Wasser, als wenn nichts dran wäre, Leichtigkeit schaffen kann aus Schwere.

[sweetboxfox]

By the way...

I have a new favourite colour - is that artificial? To have switched just like that, perhaps seems superficial

But allow me this presumption; if you're feeling a little grey, I can almost guarantee you need more yellow in your day!

[sweetboxfox]

Little Venice - 10:30am

The houseboat is shabby, typical of the lived-in barges lining Regents Canal, higher than a longboat, the cabin painted minty blue, bikes locked to the safety rail and some pot-plants on the stern. It is moored up next to the bench where I sit in Rembrandt Gardens, partially obscured by the trees along the waters edge.

He is sat just inside the doorway, bracing himself easily with one leg, drawing occasionally on his vape, lost in thought. Messy hair, a gentle, young face; good looking but not intimidatingly so. Wearing a grey T-shirt he probably slept in, he is likely artistic and slightly hippy, but never in your face about it.

A girl in a pale slip top appears, sleepily she points to something on the edge of the window frame. Wearily she watches as he first looks around for a glass and paper, gently captures the offender before making his way to the doorway and releasing the bug, a faint smile playing around his mouth. They exchange a few words before returning to their independent worlds, to existing together.

[sweetboxfox]

Heather stained, draped in mist

[sweetboxfox]

I talk to him and I wonder, "who is he?" I listen to her and I think, "who am I?"

[sweetboxfox]

After time

Though the rain has ceased, the wet remains

The brush long cleaned, the colours now ingrained

Except for the leaves, nothing has changed

[sweetboxfox]

Pause

end of my street pause and retreat

once round the square city air to share

flowers in bloom life for my room

[sweetboxfox]

[sweetboxfox]

See the eternal hand engrave The hidden play of wind and wave; Just so each countenance reveals Secrets that the speech conceals, And for each harsh or kindly thought A thread is in the pattern wrought.

David Hope

[sweetboxfox]

April Shower ☔

[sweetboxfox]

Let’s talk

Tell me what makes your world go round and what turns it upside down

[sweetboxfox]

[sweetboxfox]

The city will renew itself under the moon I will rest my bones and then when the stains of today have been washed from my brain, I’ll step out into daylight again

[sweetboxfox]

Art and love are the same thing: It’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you.

Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story

[sweetboxfox]

Park bench

Wooden slats curve under and behind me and I wonder, how many have sat here before me people who have brought to the park nothing but their thoughts and book on a lark, away from the everyday to an island scrap of green for a lunchtime retreat with only metres between us and the frantic, grey street but claimed by reverie we can make it seem just for now like we are free of the dusty city.