Egg

I once had the idea of going into a restaurant, just as they are closing and ordering something small. They would tell me that they're closed and I would offer them 1000 euro. I wonder if they'd serve me then, and if they did, what they would serve me.

toilet: the drunk ones' church

there is a sacred place near me. it's a center of some flux of this dirty city. it's a center of some dirty flux of this city. it's where my life happen. too. not only mine. it's the corner of the graveyard, where there are a bus stop, a bakery prison and a cheap tavern. the street ends and starts the mud with all those plastic bags and bottle caps and food for vultures. but the dead humans aren't vulture food. maybe the alive ones. anyway, it isn't any kind of nightmare to me. it's life. one of its sides, the one where i am, when i am. alive and outside. high and clear. alive and outside. and end to this bullshit

well, i stoped at the bus stop to... wait for a bus to stop. there is a seat in the corner where i used to sit everytime i wait for my bus. i don't know why, but people go outside their homes to sit in the graveyards sidewalk. i could be old people nasty habit, but the people wasting their time there are young too. and they aren't waiting the only bus with pass them by. it's a kind of trainspoting, don't you think? well, there where someone siting in the middle of that seat. ok. it was a large seat, enough for five people. well, why not sit there. but the guy there, a bald skinny tanned man with glasses, wearing t-shirt and shorts and sandals, as me, started complaining. he yelled at me: "hey, why are you sitting near me?! are you gay?!" i've just watched him while he stood up and went to the sidewalk, five metters away from me. i was looking almost at his direction, to see if the bus was coming. i think he thought i was staring at him, and he began to make some gestures, as he was searching for a fight, or asking why i was staring at him. i just ignored him while he went away and disappeared from my sight.

this same day, when i was going outside home, i found my neighbours. it's a very narrow corridor until i hit the street. my home is the last one. that time i caught them when they were just exiting their home, locking the door. they were a couple. the woman saw me, but the man was locking the door. i said good morning, and the guy jumped as scared as someone being robbed. i opened my largest mute smile and i went on, whithout caring about their explanations.

it's daylife. it's my life

heart failure

my heart has no owner. this heart in my chest isn't mine. it isn't yours. it belongs to no one, miss someone. because it beats without a reason. all the other muscles get tired. this one i don't even feel moving, crushing into itself and exploding more than a thousand times per minute. or less. much less now, i guess. and while it happens the dna sequence gets tired of its work and begins to make some mistakes. one of those mistakes could get me a wing, or a new tail. but most of those changes ends in great failures. no planing. as i said, this heart has no owner. no desirable end

Slow Motion

Riding the underground, I saw a group of women talking. Two of them were lesbians, I'm not sure about the third. They were speaking German. They weren't foreigners, no... they were native speakers but something was just not quite right.
I could hear their speech, but their mouth movements were somehow not synchronized. I felt like I was watching a low budget, badly dubbed movie. I wondered if they had some sort of speech impediment or if it was just my fucked up perception.

Coincidences

There's something about the air in Neukölln, it makes you feel as though you've got to live life over and over again.

Last year, I met an Austrian guy called Andreas, who was a politically involved anarchist. He was staying near Boddinstraße and met with contacts at the anarchist café in Prenzlauer Berg "Morgen Rot".

Last weekend, I met a German guy called Andreas, who is a member of a political party called the 'Pirate Party'. He was staying with a friend near Boddinstraße on Schiller Promenade and met with contacts before the "Freiheit statt Angst" demo at café Morgen Rot.

On Wednesday, I met a German guy, who is also a member of the Pirate Party, who was running to be the lord mayor of Dresden. He was also staying with a friend near Boddinstraße on the Schiller Promenade.
We were walking along Flughafenstraße at 10PM and saw the political candidate for the suburb of Neukölln, Yusuf Bayrak, handing out plastic roses with his picture on them as part of his campaign for the election.

What's waiting for me this weekend?

Identify

Who are you? Are you a lawyer, are you a mathematician?
Are you an economist, a humanist, a specimen?
Who are you? You are a planet, I planned it.

Australian

Today I was Australian. I said, the next time you go there, just call me. I didn't mean it of course, although I gave my real number. All I wanted was a better story to tell. A better story, I need to start writing again soon. I don't know what's with my future, whether I'll go or whether I'll stay. There are positives and negatives of course, like always... I just have to figure them out again. New or known? What is it that I really want?