Defrosting thought patterns

Not a breakdown, just a pause. Back on track!

It was quite a week. A lot of things on my list to sort, do, dismantle, put back, bugfix, rearrange, question, ponder — it’s not a surprise that these things still followed me into my dreams.

Dreams of a confusing kind, which you mostly forget but which linger on your subconscious, making you wake up trying to find out who you really are after all.

Day plans scattered like snowflakes.

Fears of slippery ground.

Plastered legs on TV.

Noise. Chaos.

Calm breath, piano music.

Bugfixing on my own without AI.

My pace.

Sharing my experiences on Linkedin.

Gentle coders in different places doing their work as usual.

Nights in linted white cotton. Dreams of stuffy hotels. I lost my way; after a few minutes of walking in the mountains, I suddenly came out at a rusty lakeside factory near a big city.

Me like: taxi? Unzipped my bag. Shocked: Why does that mountain map I supposed to have packed now look like a city map? 😬 Grateful that the coffee still knew my place… 🌸 ☕️

You’ll see: the best thing I could do is take a walk, … write a poem, and order pizza.

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Defrosting footsteps

My sleeping patterns seemed to break,
I tried to sleep, was wide awake.
My thoughts and dreams, no time to rest,
Yet every day, I tried my best.

I wake up early, shivering,
Sneak out of bed, sit quivering
To do my needs, again, again
while pondering ‘bout now and then…

I look out at the street at night;
That lonely lantern’s shining bright.
The winter shows its awful teeth
Of snow with slick ice underneath.

Some bushes look like star-nosed moles…
I fix chains on my thick boot soles.
I’ve got to walk and fill the fridge,
Somewhere among the poor and rich.

It seems too cold for them to strew.
The obligation’s not quite new.
It’s not worth putting up a fuss
’bout what they shovel on to us.

My thoughts wander around in spring
Of bugfixes and songs to sing…
Distraction outside is a risk!
Stay focused! It’s no time to frisk!

My chains make noise with every step.
My hair heats up under the cap.
I walk the aisles up and down,
Not finding things, it makes me frown…

I stay inside until it’s noon,
The footprints back get better soon.
My feet make noise like spoons in rice,
Salt starts to melt the hardest ice.

Too cold outside to hear a bird.
Pancakes with raisins and some curd
With cinnamon will make it sweet.
Some better days and plans to meet.

🌲☃️❄️❄️❄️❄️🍊🍊❄️❄️❄️❄️⛄🌲

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash