The way I feel is the way I write. While the distant noise of the local football game rattles on through a windy and unmemorable saturdaynight I find myself in a strangely altered state of consciousness. Remote. These moments of detachment from the immediate surroundings, when the contact with reality is blurry and the mind suddenly proves capable of great visionary fantasies are among my favorite waking hours, although they often make me sad, or at least confused, not knowing what causes this feeling of being lost in the world. Weltschmerz the great romantic authors called it. Believing that physical reality can never satisfy the demands of the mind. Going to bed with this feeling means knowing that in the morning time everything will be back to normal again, yet the uncertainty of whether or not that’s a good thing often baffles me. I spent today mostly inside my own head. Unable to really throw myself on some very necessary work, daydreaming provided a great alternative. Daydreaming of faraway countries and delicious meals, and adventures big and small. Despite the unproductiveness of these kind of days they are to be treasured. It is the time plans are born, and in a world gone shallow knowing what’s next means being ahead of most people.

© Picture by Stephen Moss