Another day started and went by, another night with the air outside turning colder and colder. Skies of vast clear blackness, shining winter stars and a surreal promise of snow. The pub seems opened for the first time that year, dirty blue lights casting light silhouettes on sidewalks and parking cars, music caught and suppressed by closed windows and maybe other means of filtering reality. It's about training and adoption, it seems. And about getting rest at the right time which is hard to figure out, every day anew. Sleep safe everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #evening blues #the sleep is a slow story

Entlang von Quartieren und Straßen. Im Schein erhellter, geschmückter Balkone. Nah genug an allem, um auch Nuancen wahrzunehmen. Fern genug von allem, um den Strom der Eindrücke beherrschbar zu halten. Auch: Auswählen. Entscheiden. Und wieder heimwärts ziehen. Geschichten über Gewohntes und Schönes und schlechtes Gewissen und das allgegenwärtige Gefühl von Schuld im Schatten eigener Prioritäten und Schwächen. Dunkelheit aus Samt, scheue Gestirne in unerreichbarer Höhe.

#outerworld #concrete city #stories of habits and intentions #evening blues

Online and reattached. Watching rows and columns of numbers fly by, looking for traces in a pile of shapeless garbage. Broken pipes, broken analogies. A frosty night to pull in across the neighbourhood. Moon in hiding, blue lights blue notes from the pub and a lonely electric scooter hibernating on the sidewalk. The boundaries of electric dreams. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #evening blues #late stories past twilight

A lot later again. Not really slowed down so far even while feeling uneasy with this kind of continuous speed. Still watching progress, small steps, random errors, odd complications. Taking notes for the new day to resume. The neighbours seem busy rolling out all kinds of coloured lights and ornaments to their terrace railings, the sparkling brightness is astounding even seen from a distance. Wanting to grasp things in paragraphs, but words seem stuck and thoughts all wound-up in itself. Little rest for the weird. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #evening blues #the late hours #stories of technology and temporary fixes

The laziness of warm surroundings later that evening. Darkness outside, and a few distant noises are suggesting teenagers resist the night and the cold on one of the parking lots, doing whatever feels appropriate on their way into night. Slowing down. The sensation of water, yawning at the mirror self and not trying to align perceptions anymore for today. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #evening blues #no night lights

Lichterzimmer, Fortgang. Nachbars Kind mustert aus großen Augen sprachlos die goldwarmen Sterne, die auf dem Nadelholzstrauch am Treppenabsatz thronen. Man begegnet sich wieder häufiger. Und manchmal versucht man zu verstehen, wohin die eigene wortlose Faszination geflohen ist.

#outerworld #evening blues #concrete city

Mondlicht im Schleier, Mondlicht auf künstlichen Sternen. Wacholder, Staub, zerkratzte Hände. Altes Holz. Durchmischte mentale Verfassung. Das Viertel im Dönergrill, und ein paar neue Gesichter. Nachtrand.

#outerworld #concrete city #evening blues #all these stories

Many hours ahead, or behind. Sitting on a metaphorical bench, waiting for the soul to catch up processing the images and noises and scents of the day, still. Feeling limits to ones own vocabulary, in some situations. No matter the language. A brief glimpse across the dozing neighbourhood, a feeling of comfort in the many small yet bright windows, the alternating colours of the terrace stars, the nuances and textures of a cloudy nightsky spanning hill to hill across an urban sea of light. Heavy-headed, barely awake. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #evening blues #half awake half asleep

And then it's late again. Weekend ending, mornings drawing near, topics of the busy hours resurfacing. Night as an option, dreams as a promise, memories stuck somewhere in between. Across the street it's a late dinner today as well, and a cigarette near the open kitchen window. The evenings and the silent skies. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #evening blues #late weekend

Vorabend etliche Straßen weiter. Geduscht und müde, heiße Herdplatten und unvorsichtige Handgriffe. Fehler bleiben nicht lang verborgen. Aber aber zumindest die Reflexe funktionieren auch an diesem Ende des Tages noch.

#outerworld #concrete city #evening blues

The later hours. Music faded, lights dimmed, the pub seems more quiet than usual during this time of week. A cab passing through the crossroads entering the street, about to pick up a young couple and two huge suitcases. And for a moment mind starts wandering across the houses. Considering appartments and balconies and feeling surprisingly concerned by the idea that many of them might be just home to very temporary inhabitants. But maybe that's nothing for now to care about. A deep sigh, a quiet breath, and always one dream on the shelf for situations like this. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #stories of late light and late minds #evening blues

Us, as in the autumn winds.

📷 lost-in-moments

#lost in moments #outerworld #concrete city #evening blues #smartphonephotography

Return of artificial stars to terraces and balconies with the year passing by. Neighbours engaged into disputes, windows opened way too wide to ignore. Once again. Monday in retrospect: An unordered collection of random sheets in what just vaguely resembles a book or magazine. A late pot of tea and a plethora of unresolved pending tasks. Progress but too little to be satisfied. Maybe tomorrow. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #evening blues #where we are we are #stories of light and the memories it conceals

Die Farben des Nachmittags: Laubgold, Himmelblau, Neonweiß. Andere Gassen, selten gesehene Märkte, Regalreihen auf Fliesenboden und fremde Stimmen in fremder Sprache. Schokolade, Fisch, Eis, Wodka. Man sucht, was man braucht, zahlt, was verlangt wird, vorsichtig gehalten, Freundlichkeit zu erwidern, auch wenn der Augenblick keine Interaktionen möchte. Und dann schließt die Tür, wird man wieder Teil des Abends in der herbstlichen Stadt.

#outerworld #concrete city #evening blues