9pm and on. Exercising new routes and again and again ending up on old tracks. Overcoming forces of habits as a tedious daily work. Also, spending increasingly more time setting things straight late, knowing the self of the early hours is increasingly unforgiving when it comes to missed details. A late bus departing, a taxi waiting in the middle of the streets, suitcases, backpacks and cigarettes. Giving up on finding good music for this evening. It adheres to its own melody. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
Fireworks again. Sound only, lights hidden behind houses. The big small city. Pictures of hours and days lining up, intertwined with the leftovers of conversations and the unresolved pieces kept on the shelf for later, in between the protecting covers of books. Sunday evening mood, a wave of perception making heart beat faster and mind race around itself at increasing speed. No stars so far, no dreams and still waiting for the new dark as a mental bedcloth. Unsure whether sleepy or tired. Have a soft night everyone wherever you are.
Past 10pm and the heavy lightness of an early night. Not able to escape the piano for now, remembering old melodies from when the years used to have their own sound. Spotlights dancing across a silent nightsky, there's music out there too but distant and unrelated. The joys and sorrows and odds and ends of the days to fly by, always just a dream from here. Sleep tight everyone, wherever you are.
A bit later and yet almost night. Drums out there, heard not seen. Two camping chairs on the side of the road, beer and the small glow of a lighter again and again in the dark. The different approaches to escape the warmth of the houses. A police car on patrol, a dog barking at late spirits, a shadow, a breeze. Flipping through a book without its paragraphs making sense. The state close to sleep but only a bit. And a week clinging to the moment. Have calm dreams everyone, wherever you are.
Somewhat later and somewhat off some tracks. Listening to the still bustling neighbourhood, surprised to hear that amount of activity out there. Barking dogs, old bicycles, bottles opened on the sidewalk in front of the pub. A few people resting on a few balconies, some in conversations, some hiding behind their screens. A stronger argument going on on one of the lower floors but as close as the sound seems, as hard it is to recognize voices or words and the tone leaves a slightly dark, concerning mood. Sleep is close sleep is far from here. Have a soft night still, everyone, wherever you are.