Planetary time

What was the ‘planetary’ time, the time of the day you tried to understand when you first came out to the countryside, when you started this journal? Didn’t you see it in the indifferent sea, the fields, the drifts of clouds, the way Rookie sat on the windowsill for hours with his eyes closed? Didn’t time seem monstrously long? A time of slowly changing seasons, the turning of the Earth in an eternal space that doesn’t bear thinking about… Nothing to do with you, yet hanging over you like a cloud at dusk. The dreaded boredom of the day. And alongside it the shallow dispersals of everyday life under the cloud of capital that you were happy to sign up to, as if you could escape so easily.

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