headache blues and back to February temperatures.
the cock's tail on the black-roofed church is moving so slightly that I can barely grasp it with my eyes. I am nearsighted and my vision gets worse. But I am reluctant to accept it.
The walls of the furniture house across the street are unnaturally close, just a few meters. I can see a middle-aged woman with box frame glasses working at her computer in one window. The window to the left reveals a grey-haired man interlacing his fingers. He is explaining something to a second person whom I cannot see. The windows are one floor below mine on the opposite side. Sometimes I am aware and I shut the roller blind when I come out of the shower or when I undress in the mornings and evening. V. never does that. He walks around naked in the room and says that those office designer people are not supposed to look into his house.
I drink the cardamom seed dust that V. prepared yesterday. I am thinking this observer perspective is getting tiring. At least if those observations would matter. How much reading, traveling, experiencing should I accumulate before I can continue or even start?
To do things with great efficiency that should not be done. This is my greatest fear. To realize too late the waste of energy that will be lost forever.
Two days ago, I dreamed of an afro wig which I got done by a hair dresser in a warm shabby saloon before leaving in a hurry to an unknown destination. The wig gave me headaches and I knew I had to get rid of it immediately. It was attached to my teeth. Discovering this trick, I could free myself. But there was much time pressure and thus little time to enjoy the relief. I was catapulted to another dream sequence. My former ballet class was sitting together on the wooden benches in the dressing room. I was happy to see them and they received me well to my own surprise. I got excited and thought I would dance again after a long time. But I left the room saying that I had forgotten my tights. I walked away on an empty German highway asking myself why I was escaping from something that I used to like.
Yesterday, a friend of mine who lived with me in the same dodgy house on the countryside in Swabia during my days as a Bachelor student unexpectedly visited me for an hour. I have never seen her with such long hair. She used to cut it herself real short. Now it has chin length and it makes her face round and very female. She is doing an apprenticeship to work with fruit cultivation. Her arms and legs look very strong and big. When she hugged me and V. I could see that V. felt uncomfortable with her big breasts. She told us the story of her ex boyfriend who has been stalking her for over two years now. We sat at the table listening and watching her enjoy the funny element in the desperate boy's persecution of my friend in a punk bar somewhere in a little village in Central Germany. I sometimes wonder how it would be to gather all my friends in one room. Maybe I could see a kaleidoscope of my different personalities chatting about random stuff.


Beliebte Posts