Weitergezogen, angekommen, zumindest örtlich. Die Stadt verbirgt sich noch hinter viel zu vielen Menschen. Enge Gassen, hohe alte Fassaden, überall Düfte und Klänge. Überwältigt. Sammeln, heute: Die Texte, die entstehen aus den ganzen Worten und Fragmenten, die vorbei treiben und nur teilweise hängen bleiben. Und alles, was sonst so ungesehen am Wegesrand bleibt.
10am and on. About finding oneself in other places. Glaring sunlight, morning scent of traffic and industry, and people preparing for the weekend in between. More encounters than desirable, training ones social skills, noticing ones deficiencies. Also: Starting to perceive most behaviours just broken mechanisms of coping with uncertainty and fear, how does the world change by that?
Weekends, different cities. Concrete, carts, queues. Random involuntary communication, along the track. That strange mismatch between expensive cars and cheap groceries. Haze between hills and sun. A day that seems unsure whether or not to turn bright out here.
11am. Withdrawing from the bustling city. On the roof once again, with all the different means of transportation passing by in plain sight. Could stay a bit longer. Yet, too: Ready to go, somehow.
9pm and on. Bach, Vivaldi, Händel: Echoes from another age, or: There's always something to be found in music. Also, watching the flickering of lights in a different city. Unfamiliar street patterns. Traffic of a late day. Fireworks of the impatient ones. Business as usual.