When there's too much buzzing around in the outside, you often visit the non-places of places. The liminal spaces of the world. The bathroom, the parking garage, the back alley. The rooftop that nobody ever visits at night.
It's quiet. It's just you. It's cold, but not cold enough to make you leave.
You once watched a video that condemned these non-places. The places nobody ever wants to be in. You think they have some benefit, though. Definitionally, nothing ever occurs in them. When you visit, there are no memories of people, of conversations tinged with sadness or friction. There are few good things, but also few bad ones. Sometimes that's what you need.
Maybe sometimes what you need is just to be [[away from people->Away]]. The memories of people, which evoke such loud feedback loops that cloud over your other thoughts until your only clear concern is what the other person thinks of you.
Or maybe you should try to [[make something of the night->Make]]. Push through the fog and find the light behind it.you stay in the darkness. the cold envelops you for a little while longer.you go down the stairs, and walk toward the lights. compared to the darkness before, they're blinding.