A fuzzy brain and ghosts shuffling around on my balcony again.

Lately I cannot sleep at night and the manic euphoria of the last few months has slowly been replaced with the sobering chill of a long winter.

Active banter has fallen away to leave only jarring silence. An unease hangs like a fog blanketing the city early in the morning and it is getting hard to make out even the shapes of the buildings before me.

I feel the urge to clean, the desire to change the air.

So, I set out to clean my balcony. There is so much dirt that has built up. It takes me what feels like hours to remove the fine dust that has settled not just on the floor and walls but also the plants. How did I not see they were slowly suffocating?

After this big clean, I feel so tired that I am almost sick. My body shudders with fatigue and when I move suddenly it is as if I am struck with vertigo. Fighting the urge to just collapse where I stand, I manage to pull myself to bed, lay down and close my eyes.   

Falling into the warm depths of my mind, I’m taken to another place. It could be a dream or a memory – it does not matter because after a while they are very much interchangeable anyway.

We are sitting at the table out on the balcony together. The air is still and crisp and the full moon shines its pearly glow across the night. Without looking my way, smiling just slightly you comment on how beautiful the moon is.
Taking my gaze to the moon, I smile and say nothing.

What was it that Natsume Soseki said about the moon?

I wake up and my room is dark. Has it been hours? Days? Years even? What world am I in now?
My body feels much stronger, recovered, and energised even. Not bothering to check my phone, I walk out onto the balcony and take a seat at one of the chairs. It is just me now.

Slowly making myself comfortable, I gaze up at the bright, full moon and say to myself, “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”