A muted red streak running horizontal across one stretch of the sky, day's last explosion of color, the firework show over until tomorrow, dusk settling it, darkness pulling up the covers, getting comfy. Two twin steeples silhouetted in the distance, a church I have walked past before. Foregrounded against the not yet totally dark sky are dark diagonal lines of factory machinery at cement plants nearby, beautiful looking. There are some trees with black, leafless limbs, spring still in its early stages, that look so gorgeous, almost heartbreakingly so, against the sky edging its way between day and night. These scenes really take my breath away, dusk always the most beautiful part of the day for me, how absolutely delicate and fragile and flimsy the light is, how in not even ten minutes this little hint of light in the sky will be gone, this magical barely lit feeling, and the luminescence of otherwise ordinary objects will be over. This beauty really pushes me to the edge, swells me with feeling, and the feeling breaks my heart sometimes, more often warms it, but the reason for both effects is the same - some knowledge of the temporal nature of things, of how transient beauty and life and all of it is - the quickness with which light shifts and in turn shifts the way things are perceived, how for a span of minutes certain objects will absolutely glow, will bounce off the skyline, how briefly this lasts and how quickly it passes.
These were the thoughts I was thinking moments ago as I walked to the bodega to find something to appease the gods of my very finicky stomach. This volcano is spitting out most offerings, accepting few. I purchased some pasta per my doctor's suggestion today, telling her I was getting real sick of eating Triscuits, but how it was the only thing my body could stomach eating. Since Friday, I have barely left my apartment save for brief trips to the store to get food or stomach medicine or today's trip to the doctor, and perhaps that might also be why this glimpse of dusk impacted me so much on this walk, why I found it so outrageously beautiful. I'm not sure what is wrong with my stomach, the doctor didn't really know for sure either, but since it seems to be fading, she suggested just waiting it out, which I am fine with. I've eaten more food today than I have in the past four and I've actually taken some solid poops today; I am feeling better. Because I go to a gay health clinic, they suggested that it was either from either eating something or from rimming someone. I told them it was from eating something, that I haven't rimmed anyone in months.
The one benefit to being sick is that I have really been enjoying movies in a way I have not been able to do at home in a while. At home, I am normally to willing to be distracted by the numerous devices around me - my fridge, my phone, my computer - and don't totally get absorbed in what I am watching. But over the last few days, I have barely even had the energy to watch something on my tv, and so when I did, I certainly had no energy or desire to be looking at things online at the same time or texting someone or looking at Grindr. I can't wait for my stomach to normalize again though, to be able to have an appetite and eat whatever I want, and go out and enjoy the day and not need to be close by my toilet. I want to take shits and not look at their consistency, their lack of it, and wonder about the state of my stomach, looking for clues in toilet bowls.
The sky is dark now, has been so for a while. I have set water to boil and will see if my stomach will accept this offering of pasta.