Past 10pm. Days move on, inboxes fill. Sounds of machines are echoing in a digital void. Always a fair amount of noise in between all signals. Always a fair amount of inner tension even in moments that seem calm at first glance. An ongoing inability to unlearn difficult patterns of behaviour. And a reoccurring insight into ones own flaws at this point. Staring at the lights left and right of the street, lights that grow stronger and warmer these weeks, until they blur and their shapes melt, become a continuum with the surrounding darkness. (The soothing effect of words. Some dreams in between. Have a peaceful night wherever you are.)