One of the people surrounding me cries out: It smells like piss! Another person points his finger at me.
I say: Sorry, that I am leaky. I will have to have a husband stitch done.
Then I go into the bathroom. The structured window has changed into nomal fully transparent glass.

On another continent, in another country a special programme is offered, some kind of ‘amusement park’. The group of new arrivals observes how another person shoots an animal, an antelope. They discuss: “Yes, everybody receives a weapon. Whoever gets a weapon will shoot it’, ‘Not everybody will survive this’, ‘Whoever kills animals, has to do this with humans more than ever’. Some kind of Fight Club, some kind of Escape Room. In the savannah.

One man and another find each other, they sleep in the same bed. On the next morning one of them is looking for his partner, even looks down into a deep duct and doesn’t find him. A third man confirms: He is lying down there, he is dead. Faggot!

After days and weeks three men survive and are looking for the exit. They don’t find it. Like small children they cry and stamp their feet. The dictator himself shows them to the exit. And shows them the memorial for the killed, which is placed there. A nice holiday….

‘Another Mile’ is the name of the film, which yet has to be shot.

A female and male cop are on patrol in an underground station. An infamous fare dodger gets caught. He tries to flee. The male cop, a giant, is very fast. The underground runs on overpasses, behind an abyss. The fare dodger tumbles down there and remains lying on the ground helplessly, probably he has broken a limb. The giant climbs down after him, pushes the man to the ground an penetrates him anally. He leaves the man to his dying. Back on the surface a superior questions the cop couple. The woman reports what she had observed. The boss says: This has to stop! The giant: Ok.

A young man is fleeing from the police. He finds a hideout with his mother. The mother compells him to an incest. The police catches him there. He is still clinging to his mother. Some pals encouter him while being walked off and they laugh at hi

I walk from my flat towards the city. A group of three stops me. The woman: “Do you know what kind of institution this is around the corner?” “Sure. That’s the psychiatric hospital”. “Do you know what schizophrenia ist?” “Sure. I had been treated for this disease for 13 years until it was clear that I have a complex PTSD”. “So, the situation can change?” “With real schizophrenics, no.”

One of the two men disappears. The woman’s mobile rings. “No, no, it’s not your story!” She hands me the telephone. The man who had dematerialized , cries out: “This is my story!” I give back the mobile and say: “No chance”.

I learn that the sick man is a celebrity. I say goodbye and continue my way. Just in that moment a car rolls beside us: “An interview? We could have breakfast together?” “No!”

The healthy companion of the woman catches up with me, I follow him into a dark corner. “No”, I say, “Even for a penny I won’t talk to these muckrakers”. The man hands me a paper roll filled with handwriting, I surely could auction this off this one day making a profit. I say thank you and walk away.

Already, I hear the schizophrenic approaching. And I hear how he, with a deep distorted voice, sings a song in which the word ‘mafia’ drops, I hear how he tortures the other man, I hear the latter’s shrill shrieks until they fall silent. I am not sure whether I took the correct turn and continue to walk into the dark.

I am living in my home town and I have to walk a couple of kilometers out of town in order to get into a trade area. I go into Norma, Penny, Netto, Aldi and the like. The shops are full, I wander through the aisles and need quite some while to get my stuff together, beer included. I pay and try to forward my package – a big bag and two pouches – to the outside. People are crabbing because I am too slow. So I tow the bags one afte the other outside. With the last walk the other two bags have disappeared, stolen. I go back into the shop in order to ask whether somebody has observed something. The collector of anther check-out, not the one where I had payed, tells me that she remembers me from the summer because then on a hazy day I had been dressed to lightly and she had thought: another doll who doesn’t know how to dress appropriately. Apart from that no more information. With my only left pouch I head home, out of money. And promptly I get lost in a suburb. There are street signs but they only show the directions to the ladies’ and gentlemen’s restrooms or to a businesses’ guided tour. I choose the latter. And enter some kind of community center. I look around helplessly and call: I do not find the way out! The answer is positively yelling. I follow the shown direction and end up in front of a double-window inside of a café. ‘This is a good idea, all right’, it sounds from somewhere derisively. So I climb through the window into the outside.

I lived with my mother and brother in a trailer on a mountain. I asked the mother whether she would give me money in order to buy some blinds. She consented. I climbed the mountain over rocks and shrubbery, sometimes the sun would be shining, sometimes there was snow. I walk until I find the travelling woman with her sales stand. I buy one blind made of bast and one white adornment curtain. The toothless old woman is laughing at me: Have fun with theses. I am happy to have gotten rid of that rubbish at such a high price. You will see whether they fit.
I had chosen the items by visual judgment and was unsettled because of the possible waste of money. When I arrived home I fixed the bast blind on the door between mother’s and my room. It fit fairishly. The adornment curtain was to be attached to the window at half height. It did not protect me from looks from outside.
The mother entered my room, as usual without knocking. She said: Your brother is going to get another delivery of eyes. Would you like to be with him? I declined. I hate those eyes in the organ boxes.

With a group of slobs I leave the rehab clinic for a day excursion. One of the freaks is steering the VW bus. We drive into a town and get drunk. We continue our journey doing wiggly lines. It is easily combustible despite the little traffic in the streets for night is falling. I have to scream, strike and curse until the driver stops and lets me out. I'm standing alone on the nocturnal street. I recognize the location. I am in Kempten on the level of the old spinning and weaving mill. I enter the abandoned factory ruin. Inside there is a people of gnomes who are copulating. All around there is dirt and feces. I take flight. Again on the street, I try to call Robert. I can't reach him and start heading into the direction of Memminger Straße where I have a flat. Upon arrival I continue drinking. Daylight arises, night is falling again. I am afraid as nobody knows where I am. I don't call in at work, I don't call the rehab clinic. Finally I manage to get Robert. He takes me to hospital.

A small boy on the hand of his mother goes to the playground in the Calgeer site. They take another way than usual, they approach the park from the right side. There stands a massiv buliding, half in ruins. “This used to be a zoo”, the mother explains. The boy wants to see it. They enter the area passing a stone gate. In front of the building is a park. In it lies a homeless man on a blanket in the sun. Through another gate mother and child enter the ruin. On the front-side of the big hall a stone lion and elephant sit on pedestals. In between them two sinks. The boy turns the faucet of one of them and the water is rushing clear and strong. “That’s why the bums love to be here”, the mother explains. The boy goes outside through a side door alone and finds himself in Parkstraße above Calgeer site. He crosses the street ignoring a red light so that a brown old, but well-kept Mercedes has to brake. An elderly gentleman in tails, with hat and cane gets out of the car and teaches the boy that the latter had done something wrong. Therefore, the boy has to stand at the car, hands on the roof, and the man abuses the boy.

Uninvolved the boy enters the park that is named Calgeer site. He goes down the slope, passes the mill wheel and home.

I was in company with a friend I didn't know in real life. Wie intended to go with the tram to the other end of the district. The railway and the street were blocked out. However, there was a stairway into the underground. Wie went down and followed the tunnel. Wer were reckoning with a long way. At the level of the next stop there was another stairway going above ground  Let's see, perhaps wie would get forward again upstairs. Upon arrival overground in the glaring daylight we were standing on a platform looking down from above into the sky on a cover of clouds. If I fell from the platform I would dive into the sky into nothingness crashing to the earth. .