a thousand different ways to fracture time

Ah yes. Allow me to slip back into this space of long form words and simple pictures, and pretend like I have not been absent from this space for years. I miss it. Social media has burgled my attention and I miss you, dear London Still-- dear long form conversations, deep dives, and somehow more intimate space.

Let me write like no one is reading once more.

I think I would like that.

In the days when I first started this thing (also known as the Days of Yore) the days before an internet that--on most days--feels like a plague of its own.
 

If there are a thousand different ways to fracture time, I want mine in slow, long breaths. I want my time in crashing waves, late night talks, and forest baths. I want to parcel out our slices of time until we're tired and it's time for bed.

Oh February, you get me every time.

 

©Nick Bantock