Today, feeling incomprehensibly relaxed, I ate rather less than the several days that came before. It is not due to financial reasons though, since my expenditure has become not only minimal but also routine. it is due to other reasons, I assume, perhaps all of them compounded.
I now live perfectly normally. I would eat when hungry, drink when thirsty and breathe. When the orange juice runs out I will churn downstairs to Rewe to fetch another half a dozen. And usually after dinner, or lunch if it were to be judged according to my schedule, I put on my leather shoes and take a walk along the main road at Rosa-Luxembourg Platz. Interesting things might happen there, and delight me in the time after sunset.
Unfortunately, or likely not, during the evenings I no longer play computer games. After spending almost an entire day last weekend on them, I decide that it is not that appealing a pastime afterall. At the meantime, there is the void of having denounced my previous pastime while not finding a new one that congests me. It is an apt time to set off again for something refreshing and new, like the nearby sushi bar that is mentioned to me a few weeks ago and of which I am quite interested in, or the Italian restaurant I have seen earlier, where the gentlemen and their spouses dined, oblivious to the matters outside, or Mama India, with a tremendous logo design. I have always admired that. Though from the look of it, it might not be authentically Indian.
The room feels a little chilly as I am writing this and quickly warms up as I close the window. A deliberate arrangement that is - an iPhone with its flashlight on behind my laptop, and the familiar icon of iTunes playing Mozart in the background, for my enjoyment. I also keep the newly changed lightbulb closed in the main lamp. The room isn't too unsightly when well-lit, but after all there are too many varieties of objects on a desk as small as mine.
I intend to sleep before 1 AM today, since in the coming Monday I have a 4:30 train towards Bremen to get the work permit. However, conscious enough that sleeping early has never been a successful task for me, I submit to the good-old sleep late tactic, while entirely free of feeling guilt in doing so. I'd probably doze off well before expected anyways. And what other pursuit do I have worthwhile tomorrow even if I don't sleep late?
Two days ago, when I woke up I had a stiff neck. It came so casually that I thought it will be gone in no time. It turns out that I am still unable to comfortably turn my head. How beautiful must it be! How beautiful must it be if somehow tomorrow I could wake up without it.
Here, in this rented room once full of grandiose aspirations I take my time to write, to listen to music, to drink juice, to sustain myself. No one knows it better than I do. "I am still here; I am still here." Thusly I call.
Eh foolish young man. The party is over. Let's light-up the cigarette, sweep the floor and wash the dishes. Behold, behold, truth to be told, who doesn't have youth. Under the umbrella in the puddles of rain we sigh, without either hope or regret, the cap of the bottle, the collar of your coat, say good night and o' tomorrow!
