Caffe Interactions

A few days ago, I was sitting at my desk, that’s by the window facing the street, when a deep sense of peace washed over me. At first, I couldn’t quite tell what had changed—why that calm had suddenly appeared in that precise moment, and not before or after.
To be honest, I’m the kind of person who questions several times a day why I live in a city at all, considering how sensitive I am to the endless sensory overload that urban life brings. All of it invasive by the way and, in my opinion, unnaturally normalized.
So, anyway, like a child playing “spot the difference” between two nearly identical images, I paused to study the scene, trying to identify what had shifted.

Until I saw it. I had caught the city in the middle of a transition—from the natural light of day to the darkness of night. And what filled me with quiet delight was something that most likely goes overlooked: that brief moment of dusk just before the streetlights turn on.
The remarkable thing was that my whole body had registered the shift in light before my mind had a chance to catch up or name it.

To my psyche, it was as if the Matrix had encountered some beautiful mathematical glitch—an anomaly the great programmer hadn’t yet figured out. And in that glitch, we’re offered a rare chance to witness the world darken in its own, unassisted way. No tricks, no artificial lighting, no external interference.
Just us, letting our eyes adjust to the fading light and noticing what we really see when whats able to be seen is no longer controlled. Letting our gaze wander freely, unshaped by norms or directions. Giving our brains a bit of freedom, a moment of creativity—or even something more primal.
Letting all of our senses lead the way. Choosing how and where to walk when it’s not the straight lines of lampposts and sidewalks guiding us, but something quieter—more connected to our inner desire or will.

That twilight, brief as it may be, feels like a fleeting reminder that we can still owe time. That the rhythm of the city, society, even Instagram—or the endless list of things we should be or do—haven’t yet stolen it all. Because for a second, they all fall away, quietly, into obsolescence.

So let me dare and remind y’all that There’s still hope.
There are still moments untouched by someone else’s clock.
Little unregulated instants when we can be lone wolves, selfish, inward-facing souls. Wildly absorbed in our own worlds—whatever they may be. Rebellious toward every rule or schedule, if only for a moment.

At least, until the streetlights turn back on, drawing all the shadows into one single vanishing point.

If this piece resonated with you, feel free to leave a comment or share it with someone you think might enjoy it too. It really helps — the more we share, the further these quiet moments can travel. 🚀🌒