The hot haze over Colombo
Colombo is too hot to work, think, or even exist. It is like breathing soup and seeing through a haze. It feels like someone has left the oven on, or that someone is following me around with a hair dryer. That is, it cannot naturally be this hot. But it is. This has a soporific effect on mood. I wake up with the sun, but I don’t want to. Because the sun is trying to kill me. Yet it never does. It just spends the day slowly bludgeoning a person.
This is not especially enlightening. My brain is honestly too overheated to think. It’s just that this is the dominant factor of my day.