Diary
11AUG
The train pulled away and left this silence — the kind you don't expect to find in a city that never sleeps. I stood there between the yellow light and the dark, and for a moment nothing was asking anything of me. Just the cold air on my neck and the echo of wheels fading into somewhere else. These are the minutes I keep.
Mood: Quietly reflective, still, private
22JUL
The city doesn't sleep, it just slows down enough for you to hear yourself think. I love these hours — when the cold finds the gaps in my jacket and the sodium lights make everything look like a memory I haven't had yet. My breath fogs, then disappears. I'm still.
Mood: Contemplative
07JUL
I think about how many times I've passed through this underpass — hundreds, maybe thousands — and tonight it finally looked different. The light was that harsh white that makes everything feel like a memory before it happens. I walked because walking is the only time my mind goes quiet. The city moves around you, but you're the one who's actually going somewhere. That's the feeling I wanted to keep.
Mood: contemplative