light that sharpens into a point, the shape of a window on the white wall to my side.
The bright light that almost splits into a rainbow.
How warm, how lovely.
[This post is available in audio form at this link.]
I wonder if we can have a composite motion sensor system for the lights and the air conditioning in school.
One that has to be turned on, before anything can come on. That way, you could have the option of turning things off – and if anyone left them on, you’ll have the situation we have now; once motionless, they plunge you into darkness.
It’s nice when the sunlight comes in and the lights go off.
The covered panels, were they switches before this? Something really odd about this school of ours – like in SOL, the energy savings and consumption is on an electronic dashboard.
The air-conditioning that does not come on public holidays, is welcome on hot days and is much too cold on normal days like these, much less when it rains.
Please give me an option to turn off the aircon…
(ah, I’ve been still enough, the fan has gone silent.)
The green glass of the building visible from our little room in the corner of SOE, more blue than green compared to the trees.
What building is it?
I just need to complete my REA model and the normalised tables to finish this paper – mustn’t be too distracted.
What happens if there is a nuclear missile launch, or if the French vote for the right, or if Twitter is bought over, and if the average temperature continues to increase?
A thought to have in the middle of finals, to wonder what sort of a world we will see when we graduate, what are we studying for and about.
The world that is changing and the I who just wants to turn off the lights in this room and watch the sunlight streaming in.
the ache in my neck.
This Ramadan, which keeps getting earlier in the year, has been difficult because of the timing. I can’t imagine how everyone else feels, when they wake up so early and eat then.
One hour to go:
I have never felt quite so cold,
even my insides are like ice.
This paper off to my side, taunting me with age
its whiteness like my palms,
the blue-grey tone of the back of my hands,
the gradient of pale pink to white of these nails,
the green light across my keyboard cover.
Its softness that I hesitate to step into,
the lightly water-repellent fabric under my fingertips.
A memory that has already floated out of mind.
Was is that our hands were cold?
Is that why I can’t even summon the image?
Or that I was too pre-occupied trying to keep myself warm,
that even as I tried to convey some warmth
it would not imprint itself on me.
Hmm… this thought that troubles me.
That’s fine for now.
I could grow to like it.
Maybe I will warm up to it.
I’m looking forward to dinner~
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