There’s a poetry in yesterday I can’t seem to shake. It’s been smoothed over, regurgitated, every feeling inspected and laid into place. What was before becomes accepted, I can talk about it now. But not today. I don’t talk about today. I can’t. There’s chaos in front of me - the heat’s too loud, the music too raw and my stomach unsettled. I want to eat, I want to talk to people, I want some quiet and I want to shape my day. It’s not a complete 24 hours yet - what’s there to recount? I haven’t yet fallen asleep thinking about the little details and sorting which matter and which don’t. I haven’t yet approved today - what’s there to talk about, really?
Beautiful, dreamy piece. The cycle section made me think about the enso https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ens%C5%8D no beginning, no end, simplicity. Loved it Yehudis!
Where am I yesterday?
Beautiful, dreamy piece. The cycle section made me think about the enso https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ens%C5%8D no beginning, no end, simplicity. Loved it Yehudis!
As long as dwelling on your yesterdays provides me with delightful reading like this in the present, I'm okay with it.
Very poetic and reflective, and a joy to read. Yesterday gets a coat of nostalgia that today hasn’t yet earned.
You were at the Kosher Money event.