An evening, again, of feeling that gap between mental time and measured hour. Clouds and sun and clouds came and went, indecisive and ephemeral, leaving damp, warm air, hot stones and the mood of these nights in the midst of the year one tends only to remember but rarely to consciously live through. A bunch of teenagers sitting on the sidewalk, almost motionless, maybe in conversations or just in a shared moment of silence. Wondering, for a split second, how this age felt, cigarettes and cheap wine included. And not putting very much trust in ones own memories right now, in images seen while looking back and things how they actually happened. (A plane descending, a couple of swallows circling high above. Golden leaves, an inbound phone call elsewhere, early dusk just before the streetlights wake. Maybe sometimes abstraction just gets into ones own way, on whichever level that is to happen. Have a calm evening wherever you are.)
đˇ lost-in-moments
Past 10pm again. Empty roads, small paths through parks, quiet lakes and that wilderness that roams at the heart of the city. A few people, sweaty and in narrow, bright clothes, submitting to physical exercise, running through clouds of dust and mosquitos. Late light of a sun that set already a while ago. Resounding conversations, a sensation of familiarity and still an perception of increasing distance, a notion of being more than just a few steps off that track. Thinking values, priorities, goals. And maybe years to dedicate to visions of whichever kind. That ever-reoccuring urge to question oneself. Never stop. Have a quiet night everyone wherever you are.
Past 10pm once more, considering checkpoints all along the course of arbitrary time intervals, but missing any meaningful place to keep track of it. Also, with a still bright evening, torn between opening windows wide to be a bit more connected to everything - and locking down well enough to not be visible, to be safe from anyone taking notice of ones own presence. Dark jazz in a neighbourhing appartment. Bats circling above crossroads again. Slowdown, as a conscious effort to focus on things outside the actual focus. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
A lot later again, focus finally may wane. Catching fragments of conversations out there, in between ones own noise, the one that's really there and the one that's just floating in between these walls as the day recedes. Archeology in software. Trying to make sense of stuff people, including oneself, wrote ages ago and yet just yesterday. Feeling humbled at what's to be found, even more so considering the sensation of superiority back when writing it down. Perspectives on the same reality, stories of imposters and experience and still being an apprentice after all these years. A deep breath, a sigh, and an invitation for the night to enter. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
An evening to slow down. The drinks, the conversations and music, different layers and different kinds of attachment. Wind got stronger, shaking the trees and howling through the windows and doors. The silence of the village, the few lights, the stars in the clouds and a feeling of detachment, then and now. Again. In several ways. Where do we dream when we're completely on our own? Have a peaceful night wherever you are.Â