Lines, colors, objectives, and cries are fading. The whole scene is becoming faint. Ordinary operation of daily affairs has it’s familiarity. Familiarity has it’s residues in incompletion. Pass the same things enough times and the scenery is so common that the details have relatively low importance. The attention is turned more toward the direction than the place. Stop and look around? Stop and observe?
Recently it has seemed like a good idea to make a deliberate effort to slow down. Slow, slow, slow, slower, stop. Stopping. Observing. Most everything seems so known, so ordinary. There’s that in it’s place. Those are, more or less, always just like that. The chatter and hum is equal to the hour. This is basically as it could be expected to be. The weather is, and the commentary follows. The news of the world breaks to the relative delight of the interested. Commonly has developed among the humans a skitter scatter pace of each own’s kind of race. There’s a trumpet in the media pipe that becomes audible by many anthro-means… Problem! Problem! Problem! Be safe while you deal with the problem! There is a clarity here; a distinction. Without interrupting…. Pause.