OhtaNotes

Time is a fiction. Yet Monday is a fact.

The more temporary the space, the more permanent the feeling.

It was I—shaped yet shapeless, certain yet uncertain, ethereal yet real.

Thursday is the new Wednesday, which used to be the new Tuesday.

We are all green things tasting the universe.

Genuine inspiration visits not the office clock, but the silence steeping in morning tea.

Nothing to own, everything to be.

Sit. Breathe. Be.

We do not want to lounge in the world. We want to be the world’s lounging.

To drink is to empty, to empty is to fill—such is life.