|Can sit here forever. But that's impossible because it will get dark soon.|
I booked a massage at 5PM today but realized it was a mistake. I re-booked for 6.
Saturdays are the only days I get to witness the sun set. On all other days of the week I am trapped in the newsroom, often surprised upon seeing that is already dark outside. My work starts in the mid-afternoon and lasts well into the evening.
So on Saturdays when I don't have anywhere else to be, I become witness to how light turns into dark. It is especially beautiful from my vantage point, several floors up and with no major obstruction. I don't exaggerate when I say I see the Eastwood, Ortigas and Makati skylines without turning my head at all.
Today it is overcast and breezy, and my chimes sound as I behold the view.
It is just a bit brighter to my right -- this is where the sun is supposed to sink a few minutes from now.
After all these years, sunset has never quite lost its magic. Every. Single. Time. A few months ago I thought I had discovered sunrise. Darkness turned into light. I thought it was great, too, because I watched the world stirring alive. One moment you and just a few other souls are awake. And then you start hearing engines of vehicles, shrieks of children dragging themselves to school. The sky turns color. Hurray! It's another day!
Sure, there's a bit of drama there too, but dusk wins, hands down.
Dusk recognizes that something, one particular day, is ending. It carries with it all the struggles and mishaps and joys and confusion. That they are ending is bittersweet. But one almost welcomes the setting of the night so it gives you time to pause and let everything sink in.
No, you are not ready for more brightness -- you need to, first, retreat and feel and think. What did I do right? Wrong? How can I make it better - how can I be wiser?
Sunset allows you to say: I will start over as I need to -- but not just yet.