Past 10pm. Bit of a heavy head, rough voice, vague mood. A day a sequence of hours a pile of loose, slightly crinkled leaves. Notes that deviated into random scribbles, and trying to make sense of ones own earlier selves thoughts as a challenge way beyond sundown. Gazing at stars, at bright windows, at laptop screens gleaming on desks across the street. There are other piles and other notes unsorted as well it seems. Noises of a truck heading out of the city, the sound of distant trains, the ever-present low frequency hum of all the breaths taken this very moment, left and right of the river. Have a quiet night wherever you are!