7:40 PM. The desire I wrote about earlier — I never observed it. Served customers, an old friend stopped by, we talked, spent some time together, then I came home. I tried to sit at the computer like the old pattern, but nothing pulled me toward it. So I made an excuse, lay down, scrolled my phone — and even that felt like too much. So now I’m lying here, writing again.

Leaning slightly against the wall. The sun is going down somewhere behind the clouds — the sky is a mix of grey and blue. Two small insects on the mosquito net, moving slowly, stopping, moving again. Are they trying to get out? Do they have any intention at all? Do insects have intention? Or just instinct? Maybe I should open the net so they can leave…

I opened it. Closed it again. One got out. The other — not sure.

A space to lean back and lie down. Just being able to write, and writing. Without forcing it.

Now — with intention — desire again. Close my eyes. Look inward one more time…