10pm and not much further for today. Dust still not completely settled. Tried wrapping head around different terminology and concepts and now struggling to match these onto whatever is familiar. Individual values included. Forehead on a cold windowpane, the sky dull devoid of both real light and real darkness. Neighbours handling dishes and food in a cozy kitchen and it seems this appartment doesn't consist of many more than this particular room. On this side of the street, touching old questions too: Is that home office permanently more office or more home? Unresolved. Maybe there's no answer that doesn't depend on time of day week year. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

Hours later, out of sync and touch and connection and focus. Again. Waiting for remote systems to load and display data, knowing it will happen just the very moment any interaction is being made, effectively interrupting whichever process has been started too much earlier. No way around it. Short periods of rain, and silence in between. Tires of cars on wet surfaces. The voice of a cab driver talking to an intercomm across the street, increasingly annoyed. Weekdays night, open and vulnerable and no dreams to cover it up so far. Sleep safe everyone wherever you are.

Earlier than usual, later than expected and somewhere in between. Lost signal amidst piling irrelevances, trying to extract a few meaningful bits from a seemingly never-ending stream. The city's still in fast pace, a crowd of dark shadows waiting for a late bus, tips of cigarettes pulsing above small pale screens, a dog carrying a green light down to the river. Dull rusty sky, no snow no constellations but the will to dream. Sleep tight at some point, wherever you are.

Protocol contravention, branches in software not traveled before in ages. Sorting out invalid messages and trying to keep them in documentation, at least as a bad example. Also, obvious inaccuracies, tense discussions, limitations on both sides and things unlikely to get much better. Close to 4pm. Some lights, commuters and always in motion.

Somewhere in that evening. Head still filled with these clouds to pile up all day, heavy with the dreams and fragments of too many hours fully planned yet not used. Morning started evening ending with the same music. And a slightly different mental mode. Tired. Night vision. Not-so-euphoric recall. Rusty red light. And the perception of new lanterns devoid of any flickering, painting the moment in its very own textures. A vague collection of pieces, maybe to be fit together later. Have a calm sleep wherever you are.

Hours later again and slightly unsure of certain facts, such as day of week and season and whether the streets are already or still asleep. Just across, a flat is emptied again, books stored in boxes, furniture disassembled. A single lamp shedding cold light, casting strong shadows. Noticing the things while they change, disconnected from names and faces and stepping back into the living calm of this room while rest is a hope and dreams are a promise. Have a peaceful night everyone wherever you are.