lost steps and found objects.

[ musings, on the afternoon of July 3rd. ]

Day three of AX, bright, sunny, a little overcast. The light seems to hit tiny particles and shatter in the air.

Suspension. The period between a promise made and a promise fulfilled. Delay between the action implied and consummated. Waiting.

We're waiting with the patience of those who know the conclusion is foreordained. Here because there's no better place to be. I am sitting in the hotel room, and in the room they come and go, visitors and friends. It reminds me that this is what I came here for, and it'd be silly to ask for more.

Or perhaps everyone is just tired. There's less running, less activity. I melt in the sun whenever I step outside, and that's another reason to keep quiet and conserve my energy.

I went to see the line for the masquerade. They actually hadn't started a line for the masquerade proper, only for ticket pickup, and there were fewer than a thousand people sitting in line. The masquerade line itself starts at six, and I wonder what it will be like.

Once, I asked someone to translate the English idiom, "who knows?" into Japanese, and his response meant, literally translated, something closer to "it cannot be known."

Why are we waiting? Who knows?

—chris