another underpass

Some mornings there's a fog gathered on the inside of the skull, slow to shake and almost impervious to caffeine, meandering towards a morning of procrastination, of small actions and semi detached wanderings gathering ingredients in order to claim some kind of achievement.

The afternoon's a bike ride, thoughts of the hills dispersed along the route, preferring unknown streets, small alleys holding streams and parks which are recognised but unlikely to be placed upon my map of the place. The humidity risen, ditching the bike, wandering around in another area that's mostly one that's passed through on the way to another hill trail or the shaved ice place a couple of streets away, hidden up an alley, a sacred jewel of a place...


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASXg-9O0s9w