Abend ist auch, wenn alle möglichen Fäden sich wieder ineinander verheddern und zu jenem Knäuel werden, das man schließlich in der Schublade verstaut. Im späten Licht verschwimmen die Farben und Muster, wirft die Aufmerksamkeit irgendwann das Handtuch, bleibt Ablegen, Vertagen, Ignorieren die beste Menge an Optionen. Verschiedene Postfächer. Verschiedene Dringlichkeiten. Kurzes nervöses Zucken angesichts roter Ausrufezeichen. Stundenabhängige Prioritäten, stimmungsabhängige Förmlichkeit in der Antwort. Die Bäume wurden zu Schatten, gegenüber bewachen Nussknacker einen hell erleuchteten Engel auf der Fensterbank. Fahle Bildschirme dahinter, blasse Gesichter, ein großer Hund, der auf einer Couch schläft. Verloren in tonlosen Geschichten ohne Handlung und Ziel.
Deeper darkness again, after all. Day used to fade away, taking most focus with it, as well as a bunch of some familiar tensions, some replaced just with other ones to bear for the hours to come. Powering off screens. Shutting down machines. Keeping connections alive despite, including those to oneself. Letting thoughts wander, turning a page, wondering to take some notes already or just let it blank for now. (Have a peaceful night wherever you are.)
Past 10pm. Days move on, inboxes fill. Sounds of machines are echoing in a digital void. Always a fair amount of noise in between all signals. Always a fair amount of inner tension even in moments that seem calm at first glance. An ongoing inability to unlearn difficult patterns of behaviour. And a reoccurring insight into ones own flaws at this point. Staring at the lights left and right of the street, lights that grow stronger and warmer these weeks, until they blur and their shapes melt, become a continuum with the surrounding darkness. (The soothing effect of words. Some dreams in between. Have a peaceful night wherever you are.)
10pm and on. Watching the city fall asleep again, as much as it uses to do that. Physically back, mentally still elsewhere. Petting a tired cat, feeling soft fur and yet just being barely here. The scent outside bears winter, the sound echoes sleepless dreams and moving without getting anywhere. Talking to oneself. Not listening. Not sure it would be worth it. Have a calm night wherever you are.
10pm again. A day laid out around re-occurring landmarks. Across the street, some cinematic crime scene unfolds on a way too huge display again. Even with all technological advancing, imagination doesn't, and it remains to be seen whether this is good or bad. Fantasies running in cycles. Utopia withdrawn by a lack of kind dreams. No retreat for the searching. Left for now: Calming down near the windows. Noticing clouds embracing the high-rises beyond the park. A few smaller and larger spots of light clustered around balconies and staircases. The sound of an electric car gaining speed between the houses, heading outbound. About to smell the rain. (Have a soothing night wherever you are.)