Saturday

June 29th



Yeah... 2 years on the spot...and I almost forgot about what I thought it was like, that bottomless barrel with a million definitions. But there is something somewhere deep inside of me that remembers something that felt like it (my own little personal kind and type of it).

All in all I feel like that job (more the actual "geting to it") knocked at least 10 years of my life-expectancy and still I can not go to where I want to go. Now that it is over I am strictly spoken kind of under obligation (not to say owned by) to the local authorities. Because after I read the "guidelines"(---ah nice german word) in the handbook for the unemployed ( those without "Arbeit/Freedom") it emerged to me that I probably only just exchanged one prison cell with the next as this country (and all the ones who shoud come up rather soon with an economic plan that actually works. Frankly I do not want to know what they are really working on?) mastered the meaning to her ancient motto remarkably applicable.

Because wasn`t I able to dedicate the remaining hours around 4.40 in the morning and 8.00/9.00 at night to activities I would choose to engage with truely out of my own free will and choice. (Wash up, tidy up, have the 1st bite to eat in 24 hours, try to keep my eyes open, try to stand (look as if I am standing) upright, try not to shout at strangers because I actually can not do it (the standing upright) anylonger.

Then on saturdays (after I finally gave into the demands of my bone constuction every friday around 10.00 o'clock the latest by crawling into bed on my hands and knees.....) get the shopping, spin a washing... try to get the grease of my hair, call my mum or somebody I would rather not have to close to me (as I would only shout at them too) to let them know I am actually still alive (somehow).

Till I kind of start to feel something like "me or myself" on Sunday. Though the last remaining moments to that condition I spend mostly dreading the fact that in a few hours it will all start over again and I will feel nothing else but "normal". Just like the rest of the overcrowded commuting population, travelling the line from depression to agression and vice versa five days a week. Most of them (well with a few exceptions) as straight as my middle finger on a bad day.

Still have this idea to sue the "Rheinbahn". Not just about all the delayed and cancelled trains or hour long waits and walks in the pissing rain/freezing cold at (in the best case) mostly though to the next operational bus stop.

It is more about the actual amount of braincells I had to let go off squeezing in with the rest of the rushed. Coughing and sneezing stuck to each other in an over filled and air free vacuum. (That was what we learned at school 30 years ago that once their gone they'll never grow back....Your brains... in case you ever had any)

" What in gods freaking name was so wrong with the good old fashioned window!!!!!!." 

As there are no more not on trains and not on buses. Though there will be sockets for everybody....

One could almost feel tempted to think of this as some kind of conspiracy some contribution towards globalised stupor of the masses. Stupiditised and brain erased (due to lack of oxygen)... more effective than the average choice on TV to accompany the nationally preferred narcotic number 1.

And on top they charge 150 euro every month for your participation.

Imagine all the real good bottles of vino (tinto) that amount of money would have bought me. So maybe I wish I had at least boozed my brains away instead. Certainly I would have kind of somehow experienced a more pleasant sensation but this constant feeling of being choked to death rather slowly but surely, definitely most efficiently.

Well it looks though like they let me go to Prague at least...because the trip was booked a long time in advance. (..not because I so urgently need a breath of fresh air or a change of scenery)

For the rest I will officially not be allowed to be absent from my home address, obliged to check my mail every day and not entitled to holidays. Participate in the suggested "measures" and gladly accept the "invitations" to the so called "psychological assesment sessions".

Oh people, people, people (as my moany old real dad would say).

Maybe all this is not more but what in the best case could be described as a poor choice of words (why having to come up with new terms when it is so easy to copy and paste from the past). A so called lack of linguistic ability...? Hopefully!

Even if it came closer to a disguised subconsciously implied fear stir... it should ring a bell somehow, but probably does not.

As this is the year 2013. And we are all (made to believe in that we are) free citizens, intelligent human beings? (And that the sky is the limit.) This is not George Orwells 1984, not Hitlers 1932 or Huxleys Brave New World. But I am very much wondering what they would say if they would find themselves in these times.

Mostly I am wondering what the fuck am I actually doing here on my 1st day of..........not really sure how to call this period yet......

Writing letters to the ether. Trying to get all this of my chest...

Lets just say... that all I really want to say about those 2 years (well the 1st spring and summer I felt actually quite alright) I better leave for my a....hole movie. 



Frei-day

June 28th

And now it is over....

No more of this:

and no more of that either:

Still in a million years I will not have the place my brother celebrates today, so I do not exactly feel like partying.

But anyway I have changed my favourite motivation-tune from here....

to there.....

Monday

June 17th

Though I rather had someone or something (at least) to count on...!





 Saturday

June 15th

Countdown is on!!