Finally, returned. Lazy mind in a crowded city, steering along detours, understanding how different neighborhoods do work, today. Unfamiliar directions for an early weekend. Mostly lost track and orientation in at least time with the week coming to a slow halt. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
Closing in on 10pm, fast steps tired steps. A recap of the hours spent since morning. With the decision to keep track even of shorter periods of time, things get messy and confused and at some point the brain needs to look at something else. Swinging between a giggle and a sigh, noticing the evening lights across the street, that appartment that's not so empty anymore, the late dinner and these candles on a large table, just barely hidden behind the curtains of the balcony door. Too late for tea too late for wine and maybe the night is willing to settle still. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
A lot later again. Music resounding in mind, even louder while world calms down for this night. Mental images of snow and winter and gazing for stars through the frosty air to cover the hills. Slightly dizzy, and never running short on some kind of sorrow. Candlelight red wine, here and breathing these permanently changing weathers. Sleep safe everyone wherever you are.
(Late drive, narrow roads. Fuzzy silhouettes of animals in light bushes. A car parked in a dark crossroad, headlights on, a cigarette glowing nearby. Some more turns and corners and a steep hill to spot the village again. Leaving the day behind, taking some early dreams with the rising night. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.)
That evening, in between. Different stories and some things the day still tries to keep up. Also, watching the neighbours adhere to their early night rituals, noticing the huge screens, the fast images, the strong colours. Not yet ready to get back to the piano, but once more pondering making a zine, or writing down lines pages ideas by hand for the mere sake of it. Not wanting to think purpose that much, just to add some things, some odds and ends to counter too much dark cynicism, sarcasm spread all across the fabric of these months. And be it just to keep oneself from that, always at least a bit in certain hours. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
Finally, concluding another long day. Wondering where that particular time went. Once more that last check on busy machinery, late the evening, to be a bit more ready to let things settle. Questions remained unanswered but sometimes it's good to have them asked and written down. A party to celebrate the weekend filling the appartment behind the corner terrace, coloured lights dancing on white walls, some shadows moving in between, turning into brightly illuminated faces then and now just to disappear in their very own twilight again. Slightly exhausted. Waiting for snow. Have a soft night everyone wherever you are.
The night and lost for words, lost voice lost thoughts. Returning home far beyond dusk, trembling being sleepy and cold. A plethora of conversations circling, partially unrelated and this feels quite strange. Common past but disjoint worlds. All in itself an issue of synchronisation. Or distance. And always vague dreams in between. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
Very much later again. Thoughts and pulse back to normal speed. A lots of notes taken and filed for another day. A candle flickering on the windowsill, small island rocks casting archaic shadows, a strong yearning for the sea once more. Watching the street sink into sleepy darkness, late commuters returning home, old and new neighbours concluding their days, students powering down their computers and moving on to more convenient tasks. Different facets same hour and a cautious flirt with a cold bright moon. Have a pleasant night everyone wherever you are.
Same day yet a lot later. Dimming the lights, flipping the mental page while mostly falling asleep even with the very first paragraph of an actual page. An ever-growing pile of books, feeling guilty for how many of them remained unread, feeling at odds with writing as a mere ritual of handling weeks and hours. Some stories touched some stories cut today. And the void of an endless nightsky, waiting for a soothing moon. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
Another night, rather late. Different routes, different moods. Sinking for a moment into that music resounding this day, with the noise and chatter of a party, the scent of a small wooden fire waving over from another backyard or another year. Not sure right now. Emptying the glass again, yawning and ready for new ephemeral dreams and memories. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
A lot later again, crossing the river twice, carrying a few thoughts both ways, and a whole bunch of different aspects to different topics that seem inseparable at times. Dense clouds random gaps a few cautious stars in between. Waters below the bridge too troubled to leave reflections being more than abstract patterns. Breathing the incoming night, drifting in its light, still here and almost home. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
Evening calm, after all and outside at least. The day fleeing again, soul still a bit off sync with the hours. Like dreams waiting for their time while mind still tries to run in circles. Artificial stars and artificial pumpkins, lit in bright orange, on the terrace above the backyard. A scent of night in a late year. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
Seemingly weeks and just hours later: Slowing down. Feeling muscles and joints in every motion, overstimulated and half asleep. Hot water cold water and a sip of tea. The humming of the city outside, the thoughts a bit more quiet than usual inside. Still not completely pleased with the day. The common habits, the familiar flow of program. Have a soft night wherever you are.
Very much later again, this days story comes to a close and its words to prevail will mostly be about the season, the wind, the lazy sun and the early dusk. Collecting some of the rusty street light, some of the sounds and moods of the evening traffic merging with the neighbourhood, its houses, its concrete, its parks and meadows. Out there, returning. Doors opened, doors locked again. The echo of ones own steps. Home beyond office. And a new night. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
The early late hours again. Still operating oneself in conscious manual mode, but focus slowly waning. The day the leaves the autumn in the trees the scent of wet earth and the melodies of different lifes moving on behind different opened windows and doors on that evening. Both soothing for the soul, too stimulating for the mind however to get real rest. Running on remaining battery charge for now, a deep breath and a pale screen and no new dreams. Things to change things to stay the same. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
Immer wieder an der Dämmerung. Füße auf weichem Boden, Tau und Regen auf ausgeblichenen Blättern. Die Sträucher und die Beeren, rot, orange. Kinder, die Kastanien und Eicheln sammeln, und verschiedene Arten von Eltern, neben den Hochhäusern und Parkplätzen. (Der Nachmittag floh, rasend und fast unbemerkt, wie die Stunden davor.)
📷 lost-in-moments
Very much later again. Considering bedtime rituals, varying shades of dark and the amount of mutually exclusive topics to squeeze in between the covers of a single day. The pleasant ones. And the demanding ones. Beginning, concluding things under kitchen ceilings, sipping on a late tea and watching the windows of the neighbourhood dim the lights one by one. Pub backdoor releasing a thin veil of music into the night. Floating with it for a moment, until focus wanes and hours flee. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
The light a late city chose to hide. No stars in between.
📷 nocturnal-deviations
Unfinished but done: The evening settling, pictures of the day slowly fading, conversations quiesced. Muted notifications, a sip from a slowly emptying glass, eyes following words that form lines and paragraphs, trying to decipher both rhythm and meaning and being not particularly good at both. Temporary cognitive limitations, a state of mind more than just slightly tired. Have a soft night wherever you are.
Way later: Entering standby mode. Bottles opened, emptied. Thoughts wrapped up, shelved again with the book of the day. Stars in a silent dark, spots of light in a cool room, mind drawing lines around random constellations once more. Strange animals, clueless stories, all along the edges of a sleepy consciousness. Have a soft night wherever you are.
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