Heading for 8am. The hours between breakfast and lunch, the hours of drawing routes and sketches repeatedly. In iterations. A lot of waste to be accumulated this way. On many levels, mentally as well. But at some point getting clear of a few things which is probably good in itself.
Closing in on 8am. Collecting and penning down requirements, in between other priorities. Also, watching the status lines of remote systems pass through, unsure whether responses are needed beyond mere watching. Leaving a brief note at the border of the screen, for the sake of it. Not sure how far awareness will take this day.
Halb auf der Strecke, wieder: Milder Wind über den Flachbauten. Unter anderen Supermarktdächern geht die andere Nachbarschaft ihren täglichen Verrichtungen nach. Bauarbeiter warten in der Schlange des Imbiss, ihr Radio singt draußen unerschrocken das Beste aus vergangenen Jahrzehnten und hält Menschen auf Abstand. Die übliche Strecke, die üblichen Päckchen, Gedanken immer halb irgendwo anders. Der eigene Hochstapler führt die eigenen Unsicherheiten aus. Wolken werden lichter. Ein Hauch von Sonne in den Dingen.
8am and on. Partially initialized. Putting pieces in its place. Watching the doves outside start their routines too, lost for a moment wondering what on earth a doves daily routine could actually be. Different coffee different mood and a fully planned day, just one small step ahead.
📷 office-life
8am and on. A drill on concrete, somewhere in the building, right to the depths of nerves and senses. That fuzzy grey cloud out there are doves that made their way back in between these houses. Office workers doing phone calls while looking out of the window, on the opposite side of the building. Also: Letting in a breeze of air. Wondering whether anyone has been here the last three weeks. Probably not. Old dust old calendars and thriving coffee mug civilizations.