notes from the outer world.

4pm and on. Running through calls in tight sequence piles up artifacts that somehow require documentation and attention. Quietly shouting at ones on poor handwriting style so postprocessing all these roughly collected notes becomes an immediate task in order to not lose important nuances. Staring at the cameras as if to make it embarrassed but failing at it. Pondering plays on words and how they fail in other languages all too often. System fans running louder again. Shadows in the backyard. The sun stayed. The day didn't.Β 

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