montag morgen

Erwachen im Bett. Schmerz. Keine Kontrolle über das Denken. Will nicht an M denken. Will nicht an Schmerz denken. Will endlich wieder leben. Weil so tot war Leben noch nie.
Schule. Ich wollte heute gehen. Ich gehe nicht.
Es ist zum…
Die Folgen zweier Mails. Hatte ich zuvor gedrängt, bedrängt?
Nein!
Also noch immer die quälende Frage nach dem Warum.
Weil M mir helfen will?
Nein!

Freundschaft II oder Wie ein Fuchs mich zum Lachen bringt?

August 2008.

Der Zerfall.

Reunion?

Wann?

Entering The Thirties ?

Is entering the thirties really such a big event. Some years ago I would have said “NO”, but today going to be thirty I start to wonder.

A really fast review:

Growing up, going to kindergarten and school, falling in love the very first time, passing high education, falling into relationships, graduating form university, falling in love a second time, entering a job which provides you with food and a roof above your head and since the last part of this short bio pic there is not much to add except for “working, working, working, never ending work”. Money, spending it, working, having fun, just a little, but having fun, working and when the weekends come around, wondering “That was is it?”

NO!

THE D BUS 5

5

The first six months passed and they still hoped for a new life, a new start, but after they have established themselves in a new community, which was not as difficult as they expected, the past came back with even more stupendous force. By now Brenda was almost nineteen. Her hospitalization left her addicted to morphine, which was the only remedy which could allow her to endure the past, present and future.

After the collision, Brenda’s neck and face was covered with a little and a medium sized scar running parallel, which could not be fully ameliorated by plastic surgery. After some weeks in the hospital she revived her vision completely but her olfactory organ was entirely disturbed by little, undetected and not fully extracted splinters. From the outside the nose looked perfectly reconstructed but the inside was irreparably destroyed.

After her first notion of having lost her “prey”, she tried always to remember her burgeoning feelings that she encountered in the bus but she was not unable to recover them from the deep hole of her soul. She knew that Bailey died within seconds in this crash. She had even seen it happen. She saw how Bailey flew across the bus to the end, thudding with the head on the last bench of the bus with such a tremendous force that Brenda could finally see only the eyes staring straight into hell. Maybe heaven. Who knows? All the joy she felt, which lasted only thirty seconds, were gone within a minute. Forever.

THE D BUS 4

4

There was almost no time between the crash and the death consequently many ToD’s were within seconds. It was not just the impact of the truck that killed so many passengers; it was rather the shattering of the windows which killed so much more. Later, when the newspapers reported about this accident there was a common notion that no one could believe what happened. Not only that the truck driver suffered a heart attack, which finally caused the crash, but also because the rescue was not in time since the whole accident took place outside of town. This area was just inhabited by a few people who even did not have a telephone. This was for all too much of a coincidence but as every reporter wrote, it did happen and cannot be proved wrong. (…)

THE D BUS 3

3

“What is your name?”

“Hm, do you mean mine?”

“Ja, what is your name?”

“My name is Brenda and what is yours?”

“Bailey.”

“Nice to meet you, Bailey!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Brenda. What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Nothing special. Just waiting for another day. And the weather does not look so nice either.”

“Would you like to have a little walk with me?”

“A walk … into this storm!”

” … you are exaggerating!”

“No, I’m not. … but why not. I never did something like that. Going out when you are supposed to be inside because you know it would be better. But actually, I would love to go and become a part of my books.”

“Books? … Let’s go then.”

So, they were going downstairs, holding the umbrella in front of them and finally walking along the river next to a nice park which is green during the spring and summer time. The snowflakes are huge and thick and upon landing they cover the pavement whitening their path. Meanwhile they walk, they do not talk at all, they just feel the presence of the other. They feel the touch of their arms and enjoy the warmth of their bodies, which are connected through the link of their elbows. It seems as if they were the only ones walking along the path leaving footprints outside and inside their mind. They will always remember this day since none of them had done that before. They walk in silence and both are thinking about the happiness they feel and how lucky they are that the other is there but neither of them is saying anything. They just saunter in appreciation of the other, and wonder about the beauty of the snow. The trees are wearing soon a white coat, the river is freezing during the last minute and the snow is just falling as if it would never end.

Wie schreibt man Schwan?

Jeden Morgen fährt sie mit der S-Bahn Richtung Westen, um zu arbeiten. Manchmal überfällt sie ein mulmiges Gefühl, wenn sie die nun unsichtbare Grenze überschreitet, denn irgendwie ist sie nicht ganz angekommen, obwohl sie in dieser Welt nun schon zwanzig Jahre lebt, und nicht nur für den Sport, sondern auch für ihre universitäre Ausbildung in den Westen gefahren ist. Es gibt dennoch immer noch Tage, an denen sie sich fragt, wie es gewesen wäre, wenn sie nach ihrem neunten Lebensjahr in die vierte Klasse der EOS gekommen wäre. (…)

The D Bus 2

2

Brenda was a happy child. She was living with her parents in a four-bedroom house in the wealthier American suburbs. She never had to suffer from famine, like her parents did, she never had to wish for clean water, as her parents prayed for. Since she has been born she lived on the bright side of life, as the saying goes. Her parents were lawyers and had moved into a nicer neighborhood to fully protect their only child some years ago. She grew up without scarcity and developed a fine sense of poetic justice. (…)