Äärel / On the edge

It's as simple as that—a spot of peace and reflection. The kind that is endlessly pursued mentally, that is held revered as an, "oh, that would be fucking lovely-ness; one day, it will be possible, perhaps, I suppose...". Collection and calm, the conscious basking in the fact that it is collection and calm. More specifically (in this blog? hardly!): sitting on the windowsill (old buildings/Europe definitely gets an extra point for that—broad enough to be a very non-corporate-café "third place"...or is that place 1.5?...a perch or position, from which you can survey both the adjoining room (the room as a part of the window, not the other way around) and the greater outside), having woken up at leisure, not opened this glowing screen first-off and sunk into the murky depths of the nets of inter, and taken a book as a windowsill companion. Emphasizing the word companion as well—not in the nature of something, which demands your attention, towards which your focus must be directed under obligation or threat of conviction; but rather something, from which your direct concentration may wander from time to time, rising and flitting through the leafing greenery of mid-lehekuu (May), only to alight once more upon the non-offended words at will. On either side of the windowsill is even a different temperature, a different level of light. In any case, it's all within reach. Like throwing a frisbee more mid-distance (yes, that was an activity of yesterday and hence comes the somewhat odd comparison)—it needs a bit of extra force, a somewhat contradictory shove downwards to lift up and not careen sideways and into the face of a small passerby puppy or the greenish death-water of a 17th-century moat. Effort to achieve effortlessness. Thus the hesitation at such an approach, and ultimately not achieving either. 

Only to be followed by ska blasted at the highest volume a sticker-encrusted Mac can muster early on a pühapäev (Sunday). Why the hell not.

Edasi, вперёд...