Sometimes I Think About The Golden Record And I Want To Cry

Captured Flow

© riverwindphotography, March 2022

me walking into the animal shelter: hi id like the stupidest cat you have

November Pines, Somerset UK

Photographed by Freddie Ardley | website | instagram

Point Defiance Park, Tacoma 2021

A Pack Of Gray Wolves, Canis Lupus by Jim And Jamie Dutcher

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in addition to the fact that people just have different natural rhythms, a big reason why we can’t seem to go to bed as early as we “should” is that nighttime is, for many of us, our safest and most fulfilling time of day. we don’t have to work, we won’t be contacted by bosses or insurance companies or collections agencies or other suffocating life business… we’re likely only to be contacted by our friends, or by no one at all. night time is release; it’s ours. we can rest or recreate. we can do things we actually want to do. who would choose to cut that short?? just to usher in the next morning when our lives are not our own again? nighttime is precious and nothing could be more normal than the desire to embrace this

“What are you DOING!?” the mentor screamed as their estranged student flicked a match/torch into their doused house. “No! NO!”

“Oh, what’s that?” the student asked as they leaned against a rock formation, taking a swig from their bottle. “You don’t like when everything you care about is just taken away from you? Like a puff of smoke?”

“B!” The mentor looked at them incredulously before trying to reach into the house, but it was already too hot. The entire house was ablaze, flames threatening to lick at the mentor’s skin with every breath. They cried out, jumping back, putting their hands to their head. “What have you DONE!?”

The student snorted, rolling their eyes as they stood up and drunkenly wobbled over to the mentor. “All I’m doing, A,” they said with a tired smile, “is letting you live in the world that you said we lived in.”

A stared at B, then a the flames. As they slowly sank to their knees, watching the fire, B snorted. Waving a hand and taking another swig, they turned and began walking away. “Now you know what it’s like to have your entire life blown to smithereens!” they laughed humorlessly, barely heard above the collapsing beams of the house.