Golden hour, when the sun leaks away and with it. the day. It’s when I like to think, usually of my family or friends too faraway or wonder what my boyfriend is doing. I think about that man far too much. I’ll always try to be outside as the sun sets, even if it’s only the walk to the gym. Or maybe I’ll have a coffee and think of the dreams I have at night, which are too intense and too terrifying, they leave me restless until at least lunch. But golden hour is best by the beach or ambling down a great big boulevard, which is what I suppose Paseo de Gracia is and that’s the street I am on in these photos right here. The road of ‘all the thousand euro stores’, is what I call it, where everything I want is at least 1 k and I’ll look yet always promise myself I’ll come back another day. I never do. And at sun set, I think of you too. I hope you, whoever you are, had a good day and I’ll hope you come here again before you sleep to read what I wrote and peek what I wore. And always at sunset, I allow myself what I usually avoid all morning through to afternoon; all the overly sentimental thoughts that can be distracting or heartbreaking or too exhilarating at work. All the things I’m anxious about, excited for, doubtful or distressed. I think of them all, very quickly, quite like shuffling cards. They scatter, I speed through them and as the sun goes away, I arrange them all again and go back to whatever I was doing before the day slipped away.