Its the type of light that comes out from under the clouds. Not through them, but around and under them. Everything looks surrealistic, in shades of green and yellow, often indistinguishable.
Leaves, flowers, the very air around lights up, becomes static; tangible. Everything appears surrealistic, nothing can be real.
My point of view changes, memories of other times are vivid while the odd lighting is present. People, objects, music, thoughts. They flash back into my head, each giving way to the next.
The clouds break, the surrealism is broken. Memories and thoughts of other times flee; all that is left is a feeling. And to it is joined another feeling, that of loss and unmistakable longing. A longing for times where only good things and cozy moments are remembered.
But with the sun-break arrives again the present, real life. Back to it again.
1 comment:
I do, but I don't, I do, but I don't, etc.
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