A Dream -- Friday 21 August

As I sip my first Earl Grey of the day, the sun peeks through the clouds like an eager child on holiday. The warm light seeps into my skin, and I feel invigorated, ready to tackle the day. My home server rack purrs like a well-fed cat in the background, running smoothly with my own Rust-written services. I imagine Orwell's words about the factional fighting during the Barcelona May Days, but they fade away like whispers on the wind. Instead, I'm transported to a world where Reggae music fills the air, and the scent of blooming flowers wafts through the overcast sky. The air is thick with moisture, clinging to my skin like a damp shroud, but it's a heavy stillness that's almost palpable, as if the overcast sky has sucked all the vibrancy out of the world. I feel small, vast, and connected in this moment, like Natalie's song says.