Finally, 10pm and slowing down. Putting down headphones, as if they had turned too heavy to wear all of a sudden. Music still playing but into an earless void, much more like a memory and maybe that suits well the choice of tracks tonight. With the month moving on, last Christmas lights finally disappeared from the windows and balconies over there, rendering rooms and facades darker again. And even while the days are gradually longer again, there's still so much light vs dark in these moods right now. Standing below backyard trees, breathing winter while mentally yearning for all kinds of possible springs. (Have a night devoid of gloomy dreams, wherever you are!)
📷 lost-in-moments
10pm and on. Late lights early dreams. Everything left behind of that path morning to dusk seems hiding behind a wall of blur. Surrounded by trees and facades and bushes and abandoned structures in between. Too: The loud voices of pedestrians echoing in the street, entering, leaving the pub, taking their beer and their bags and all their burdens home. And the comforting feeling of being reasonably far, invisible and separated from these aspects. Keeping as much silence around as possible, every day anew. Have a peaceful night wherever you are.
📷 lost-in-moments
10pm and on. Things to deal with later that day: Digital services asking whether one's actually a human being. Unsure how to respond. The model has no real idea either, but apparently most people just confirmed and went on. Others end up wondering most elementary identity and belonging again being confronted with those unsettling questions. (Closing the corresponding windows. Opening the actual one, to catch some air and a glimpse of whatever winter it is right now. Flickering pub lights, music reduced to bass lines, and the ever-present distant hum that feels soothing much more than intimidating at this hour. Have a peaceful night wherever you are.)
10pm and on. The late hours to follow a slow afternoon. Always sundays, like looking ahead briefly, eyeing what lies behind the next dusk and dawn. Knowing the specialties of the hours in between. The weird paths of these dreams to start randomly and be gone again in early morning. Everything washed into consciousness once more before a new week returns to its familiar rhythm. Somewhere along the backyard, some TV station is spreading news again. A few stars blinking above silent roofs. Air's a bit cooler, has a soft scent of fir trees, wet meadows and a river. Breathing, inhaling. And focussing on senses and perception for a moment, trying not to process, to evaluate. A challenging exercise, again and again. Sleep well and calm dreams everyone, no matter where you are.
Way beyond 22pm. Accepting to have slowed down a while ago. Emptied the glass again, taking quality time standing in the backdoor frame, briefly staring out into the dark. Grasping a lot of different sounds at once and failing to identify where they belong and what is causing them, in most cases. Except for the constant, wake flow of the creek on its way to the river, maybe. Reflecting on another week passing by, and the ages that seem to have found place in it. Processing some, ignoring others for now. And trying to set a stage for short-term dreams worth being dreamt, heading for the morning again. Have a peaceful night wherever you are.