Refugee – a.k.a. coward

Today I fled from the bookmines.
Around midday I was sitting in the overheated room and found myself staring at the computer screen. Books to my left. I had forgotten what I wanted to write into the data sheet – a multi volume Weltgeschichte from the 19th century, each volume with a single Untertitel, a decision had to be made how to write it all down into the catalogue … and I realised that I had forgotten my prior decision that was all justified and well-balanced. I was sweating and my brain was empty. Regular readers may state that this is the norm with the author of this brabble and that they only come here for the music, but for me it was a kind of Erkenntnis. I realised that there would be no satisfying work over the afternoon, forget the evening or the night. Alternatives would be a march over the meadows towards the superette to haul in some drinking alcohol, playing pool alone in the basement of a silent guesthouse – or to check the time table and jump into a train towards home: My own bed, my own bathtub, my own kitchen, no mosquitoes … a dream.
As you know I use a bus from Ansbach station towards the institution, simply because the bus delivers me literally to the doorstep of the institution I work in. But there is a train station somewhere that carries the institution’s name, and I saw signs pointing into the woods with the word Bahnhof on them.
It was a fine march over mostly paved ways under shadowy trees, took me just forty minutes. The train arrived on the dot, and because it was the early afternoon one there was space in the waggons and ample silence, even the air condition did it’s job well.
The “city” greeted me with overcrowed pavements, people blaring into portables and generally putting up a nice show – what an excitement to watch. I mean the institution only knows “on” and “off”. And “off” means that the fat farm cat simply lies in the middle of the farm-yard in the shade of a barn at 17:00 – she/he/it would be run over by tractors, cars, bicycles, whatever, in no time in July or September – not in August, vacation time.
The cat btw lays there even in the night when I make my way back, just two nights ago I nearly stomped on her. On further thinking I realise that she choose the place very well, best overview available there.
The heat finally made me give in: It’s simply draining. I can not sleep at night, only in the morning. So I sleep longer as usual (and “usual” is already not very bourgeoise), get up and ready to use around midday, when the heat is building up again. The afternoon is a drag, then there’s the need for a nap, something to eat and a shower, and the computer sees me again in the early night. There should be time and energy to do some work by now, but I am stumbling around the web, because this is the only time the bloody stick works to it’s promises. But it’s still hot, maybe some thunder and lightning, rain even, going’ home for good to catch some sleep – and the torture never stops … the rain makes it even worse. Yes I’m whimpering. Ad that I had good  company over the last two weeks.
Finally tonight’s thunderstorm arrived, very nice, very dear, very close, with rain – rain! Wind …

So let’s have it:



14 thoughts on “Refugee – a.k.a. coward

  1. Ja, the heat is why things move a little slower in the hot Southern climates.

    I sleep with two fans and an air conditioner on. It is difficult some times…

  2. Some nigts ago I made a mistake with the light and the windows, and the mosquitoes came in. One specialist bite me into my right leg, I really felt it munching. It is swollen and still hurts two days or so later – and what puzzels me most is that the blood coagulated so fast, I have some medication that should prevent this, I should have been bleeding like the proverbial swine. Here at home there is not even a bloody fly! I’ll put some Silvaner on it.

  3. And did the storm bring relief? I do hope so. Here in Scotland we hope for some heat before the summer is officially over.

  4. It changed: The sky is cloudy and there is wind. It is warm and humid. I stepped over yellow leaves in the streets when going out this midday. I am glad to hear from you Eryl!

  5. I had no French at school, but I went to a “Arbeitskreis” for a year and we worked through the book. I remeber that there were jeunne fills and boquiniste a la riviere gouche – but I am not even sure about the spelling of all this …

  6. I will ask the wind god to blow over some of this nice gentle breeze for you.. Its been three weeks, but the rain is supposed to come back for a visit tomorrow. I can feel the change in the air pressure.

    Last night I watched an interesting documentary called “Urbanized” from 2008, I think. I don’t know if you are interested in Architecture as it pertains to Culture and Community, but I found it very interesting. It discussed the “Suttgart 21 project” do you know if they have continued with this project? So sad to see the people crying as the 150 year old trees were cut down. They said that even during WWII when people needed firewood they did not touch the trees in this park, but the governement allows them to be cut down in the name of “progress”. tsk tsk

    btw I actually did a post a week ago. I don’t think anyone but you would really have noticed since its been so long.

    Take Care,

  7. “Stuttgart 21” was a big fraud from the start to the bloody result – and I mean bloody in the true sense. A man lost his eyes because he was badly hit with a water throwing machine by the police, others were hurt and clubbed when demonstrating.
    It is a totally legal action: The idea is to remove the old station which is a “Kopfbahnhof”, where trains stop and have to go out the same direction, and make it a “Durchgangsbahnhof”, where the trains can move onwards – to the South, as part of a large North-South-Magistrale. Fine so far. (BTW: it would make the trains arrive ten minutes earlier, really.) A lot of the structures would be underground – and so a lot of land, some hundred hectares I think, would be available overground, in the best city situation / area, a feast for “investors” – and that is what it is all about.
    It was cleverly orchestrated from the start, when the council of the city waved through the original papers and “Beschlüsse” it was summer brake some years ago, nobody really understood what was happening and what the results would be. The main newspaper btw shut up until they simply could not ignore the people on the streets anymore. People woke up when the old train station was to be bulldozed and when the trees were to be cut. In the wake of all this the conservative gourvenement of Baden-Würtemberg was swept out of office (unheared! The reigned for thirty (?) years!), but finally all is saied and done: The whole thing will be built. Even one of the major arcitects who was planning the whole thing saied that it should be stopped – simply because of problems with ground water that WILL come, and whose dimensions were not clear at the beginning – no way: Deutsche Bahn will built this. They already have contracts about the ground that still does not exist, because all the instalations are still over ground – it’s just money working, at it’s finest. Who cares for some old trees – plant some new and that’s it. Who cares for citizen’s participican – the plans were publicly reachable, eh – weren’t they!? Somewhere in the basement of city hall while nobody knew what it was all about. Do not start me about this bloody shit.
    Yes arcitecture is important. I will think about important, or better: “significant things”, significare is an interesting word, and will write.
    I’m glad that you came by, Proxima.

  8. Ja, all of the railroad tracks dead-end at the Stuttgart Hbf. I hope the Stuttgart 21 plans preserve the old building itself, which is architecturally very interesting.

  9. They already tore a part of it down, XL. If I remember the plans correctly it will be partly preserved and integreated into the new structure. The bis three-point Mercedes star on top of it was very useful when one visited Stuttgart, because this thing was simply always visible, one could always find the way to the station

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