Past 4pm again. A huge file created, structure added, flow loosely defined. Waiting for things to fill up now, not completely sure how. In between knowledge and communication again, wrestling individual opinions, differing objectives and an ever-present imposter, never really quiet.

Mittagswehen, rauhe Ecken an glatter Technologie, Küchengespräche - über die saubere Oberfläche des Kaffee-Vollautomaten, darüber, dass man besser nicht wissen will, wie es innendrin aussieht, und jede weitere Überlegung dazu ein einziger Abweg aus verstörenden Analogien und Bildern. Kollegen und Praktikanten ziehen fahrstuhl- und pausenwärts, eine weiße Linienmaschine mit orangefarbenem Leitwerk steigt in die Wolken, gegenüber auf dem Dachfirst versuchen die Tauben, den richtigen Abstand zueinander zu finden. Bewegung in allen, es ist kompliziert. Nur wenig Leerlauf, Arbeit an sich selbst und dem immer noch unterentwickelten Vermögen, Stille dort zu schaffen, wo sie dann und wann dringend notwendig ist. Die leeren Räume im Takt und die Möglichkeiten, die sie böten. Theoretisch.

Contrails on soft skies, crossing each other and sparking thoughts on travel and distance. A step or plenty of miles, with noticeable changes or barely getting anywhere. Dimensions and aspects to it. And the next tasks sneaking into attention span again. 7am and on, another neighbourhood waking and this state of being seems the same all over.

The rain and the sun to dance below ruptured skies. Another attempted connection inbound, not taken until knowing where it originates, what it belongs to. A day of having more water than coffee and maybe it's small achievements to celebrate as well. 4pm and on and never getting used to machines wanting to check ones state of still being human.

Moving on in between. The odd insight of certain music triggering other perceptions, like for different scents: The waking concrete of the city. Early traffic. The vanilla flavoured cigarette of another office dweller, reminding even more of earlier jobs, earlier colleagues before ways parted. The small kitchen, an open dishwasher, a fridge filled to the gills. Garlic, damp cold, old heat. One cautious step back. Eyes closed. Breathing near that window. Conversations with a waning moon.Colour-effect morning clouds. A quiet sky. A small moon on the upper right.

📷 lost-in-moments