Somehow somewhere, later. Sunday but as a memory to still write itself. There's always that mood at the edge of the week. The list that lurks in the back of the head is growing longer and longer and the outline still misses some sort of structure or shape. Exercises in patience: Leaving things as they are. And getting used to this. More on desirable yet absent superpowers... . Have a soft night wherever you are. 

A lot later and concluding the day. Along the lines of week. Myriads of raindrops drumming on roofs and running down pipes and spanning a fuzzy veil between here and the streetlight near the crossroads. There's music in the flat below, the sound of water in a bathtub, a conversation across the rooms and the sounds make for an interesting, calming background texture, all along with the weather. Ignoring calendars and clocks, for now. The mood of dancing along horizons. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are. 

9pm and not much further today. Merging realities. A roll of dices, a serene moment lost to music no one else should know about. A deep breath, ideas of ongoing winter and more frost in the trees, a visible agenda and a hidden gut feeling. Sleepy and overwhelmed, for a split second, by all the loose ends to catch up on, soon. A few chords and no voice, singing never works. Have a soft night wherever you are. 

Concluding a silent day, images of ice and frost in mind and slightly shaky while emptying the cooled-down mug. Listening to the city that's struggling to stay awake, yet thoughts wandering off and senses giving up on processing this,nocturnal input. A sleepy cat, a tiny star, a quiet sigh and then there's to a new week. Soft dreams everyone wherever you are. 

Later again. Sundays fading. Neighbourhood giving up on the evening TV programme. Trying to find a few chords, but the piano and the self don't resonate today. There are hours like these. These hours to feel out of sync and tough with oneself. These hours, after all, to recall the usual mood and flow just with a new week dawning beyond the mental horizon and the boundary of night. Clothes, pens, paper, thoughts, mind sort of put in place, ready to pick whatever is needed a few dreams from now. Sleep safe everyone wherever you are.