status

10pm and not much further. Filing the weekend, storing pictures of forest and meadows and rivers, for whichever later moment might care. Calls and conversations echoing in an inner realm still veiled by both ones own conflicts and worries and pondering the global insignificance of both. Watching the candles burn bright, watching other rooms across the street go dark one by one. Just hours from tomorrow. Have a calm night wherever you are.

📷 lost-in-moments 

In between hours. Watching the play of Christmas lights above the backyards. A late bus passing through the stop, empty, like a blurred yellow ghost heading outbound. Restoring some rudimentary order: Living room. Kitchen. Tired laziness wrestling that anxiety of how next morning might welcome a sleepy soul. No real sense of time yet.  

📷 noir

So here are the seconds in between the hours. The time to hear ones own heartbeat, ones own breath, the sound of ones own joints moving between rooms, silent as if any careless noise would be to wake up the whole house. Right now, to feel oneself one in everything, one with everything. Except sleep, maybe.

2am and on. Interlude, state changes. An imaginary clock ticking, breath and heartbeat trying to align yet fail. Lying half awake, waiting for silence to cover this hour again. 

Sehr viel später. Suche nach Musik, wieder, die zu den Bildern passt. Oder nach Bildern, in denen die Musik widerhallt. Abgegriffene Sätze, alte Gedanken, Nostalgie und ein zum Erfühlen naher Montag. Gegenüber hinter den Fenstern wird auf der Couch gelesen. Kein Kerzenlicht im zeitgemäßen Minimalismus. In einer anderen Realität duften Räucherstäbchen ein feuchtwarmes Bad aus: Patchoulli, Joy Division, Paul Auster. Und dann Terminspiele, Statusnachrichten, müde Server. Die Stunden zwischen diesen beiden Tagen haben ein ganz eigenes Gesicht. (Have a peaceful night wherever you are.)