6pm, time differences, slowdown and frost still. Watching evening unfold on the sidelines of the flow. Calming. As s conscious and demanding effort. Maybe it works out.
4pm, cautiously moving on. Splitting days into different pieces, each covering different concerns. Dangling messages, interrupted flow of thoughts. Small steps, no solutions so far. Windy afternoon outside. Grey clouds. A sense of rain.
Later than usual. Heading home. Watching the lights blinking on cars in a long queue. Temporarily enticed by seeing how the subtly different frequencies then and now seem aligned for a few beats to then drift apart again. Too many faces and a load more stimuli to scratch an already tensed surface. Returning. Stepwise.
Innehalten nach schneller Fahrt, die immer in die falsche Richtung zu führen scheint. Den Wechsel der Nachbarschaften erkannt an den Schemen und Strukturen, die sich durch den Rand des Sichtfeldes schleichen. Tee an der Heizung, während die Kinder unten jene Energie abtoben, die der Wohnungsdonnerstag offenbar zurückließ. Lieder, laut und falsch. Bausteine schlagen hart auf den Boden. Eine beschwichtigende Stimme verhallt erfolglos. Und wieder Regen auf den Blechen.
4pm and on. Entering city twilight, en route through different neighbourhoods and their unique moods. Not a single cloud to touch a wide blue sky today, the crows are heading for the parks and river shores again, trains filled with commuters crossing bridges heading elsewhere. Watching. Listening. And in the end hiding where the frost is. With all its coldness.