There are paths I imagine whenever I go to sleep.
I carry a small backpack with only the necessary things. A walking stick in my hand, I always thought about asking for MC's walking stick, but I never quite managed to. I wear a hat, a white tshirt, a hiking pants and place a towel around my neck. (Oh, let me add a Fujifilm X Half hanging on my neck in the imaginary future walks - this is new)
And I walk.
Along the path.
Some nights the path runs through a bright forest. Not the dense kind we have in Malaysia, but something gentler.
Some nights it winds between hills of green fields, the weather moodier, the air cool with a steady breeze.
Some nights it leads into a mossy forest, with komorebi, sunlight leaking through the trees.
Some nights there are rocks and small hills to climb.
Then I fall asleep.
I only need a few steps. A quiet thought of where I want to walk that night before my system shuts down. I can’t imagine anyone beside me on these paths. I am always alone, and everything is always green. Even in reverie, it seems I return to silence. It never feels lonely, only a quiet awareness of absence. I suppose I built this small world, and no one has quite belonged in it yet.
I love these walks, even in the quiet space between dream and consciousness.
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