A lot later. Outside, inside, taking the stairs and unlocking apartments, locking doors and keeping this fading days world out. Overstimulated, too little water, too much caffeine, amidst the enthusiasm of people doing what they do with dedication and commitment, and the stark contrasts in different realities carried by these weeks. Still late dusk, another long night, a bit closer to the change of seasons. Separated from the motion of stars and yet somehow a part of it all. Waiting maybe just for that perfect lineage or a better Moon. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
Erheblich später stolpert man über Orte und Begriffe und verfängt sich in einem Kaninchenbau aus Erinnerungen, gräbt sich durch die Suche in digitaler Weite, um sich vergangene Projekte, Themen, Namen wieder zu vergegenwärtigen. Und bleibt erfolglos. Von Sichtbarkeiten und Verstecken, von losen Enden und verlorenen Enden. Und von Wegen, an denen man irgendwie vorüberging.
Very much later. Cleaned up again. Bottles emptied, the last candies gone, lights dimmed. There's a party somewhere in the backyards but it's only about hearing chatter and glasses and drums, while the people to celebrate remain hidden somewhere between bushes and trees. No fires for now. But a wide open black sky bearing all the stars one could imagine and more. And sometimes at night it's there again, that weird childhood mood of speechless silence looking at this vast endless void in between here and there and distances not even imaginable, let alone being able to travel them. Grounded in between firs and oaks. Watching. Yearning. Have a soothing night wherever you are.
10pm, finding rest. The different days breed a different way of feeling tired. And with the huts and shelters preparing to end their year, all the small bright spots are disappearing from the black canvas of the mountains, one by one like stars fading into void. On the other side of the lake, headlights of a larger vehicle cut through the trees along the road, drawing ghosts that haunt nervous dreams on the wild edges between civilisation and nature. Waves hitting the shore. Some rain in the trees. And not much more for what remained of the day.
Und wieder Nacht, wieder Mond, wieder die gewohnten Klänge in der Straße. Ein bellender Hund, Kronkorken fallen auf den Gehweg, dunkle Stimmen erzählen, Flaschen klirren leise aneinander. Lärm eines alten Mopeds vom Fluss her, unten weint ein müdes Kind. Kerzen löschen. Stühle zurechtrücken. Bücher ins Regal legen. Lang der Tag, ein vorsichtiger Blick nach vorn fragt, ob die Träume all die angesammelten Momente werden tragen können. Ein Zwinkern entfernt nur von der nächsten Dämmerung.