Syl Vester

mental silvestris.
cannot see the wood for the trees.

wake at six clear day clear head
snow out, it being a cold day.

up toodaloo
Online lights showing on the little box.



back in bed, warm up.

wake at ten, bright

up toodaloo,
online lights red on the little box.

Offline daily.


son up, make coffee,
AUX, auld unix system.

his new toy,
delved out of the past

Last day of the year

bangers night tonight
organ concert tonight.

chewsday

get up toodaloo ninethirteen.
Shower, tablets, good mornint son.
Snowday too, big flakes, soft and soggy.


vitamid d stuff
doxy for the rosy see ache,
flew oxy teen, for the mind
the way things go.
Good morning tinnitus.
empty the big bialetti of its old coffee grounds,
put in the fresh ones.

Son has a long-defunct IBM system running on a modern computer.
Main thing is that the system runs.

Burbling Bialettin, turn of gas,
Down stairs bin day, clear snow from path.

See the neighbour, spreading salt.
Morning
mogen
matsch

Monday limbo

slept deep woke refreshed.
No, that is a dream, a hollow one too.

see the light of the sun in the morning reflected from the sky filtered by dense snow-containing clouds. Snowing continuosly sometimes more sometimes less.

Make the daily coffee.
resolve to clean up  the mess in the sitting room.
resolutions revolutions.

nothing moves,outside the snow has probably dampened the sound.

Post christmas pre New year

Soli pa diem, who knows what it means.
sleep deep and drugged. Doctors orders,
Deadly dreams. Nightmares. Couchamares.
Forgotten, receeded to the back of the mind.

Grey day, get up, bathroom, kitchen, coffee.
Peace in the house, peace on the street.
Son up, happy cuddle.
bring the coffee to the wife.

Sunday.

No details to describe the mess in the kitchen, nothing is anywhere and everything is nowhere.
Something to do, clear it up.
do it now, now now

don't forget the pills, avoid emotional upsets.

rise at three, loogo, lookwatch, not three.
Six.
White roofs out.
Snow.

Dark, back to bed.
try hard to sleep.
Tired.


nightmares of following, strange places,

tight stairwells for barock people, really small, really tight, strange.
Dreams of chase,
tight corners, choking

apnoic panic


make coffee.
computer network down.

boxing day, friday

night interspersed by the observation of the light falling in through the window.

reflected town lights, in the glass over the balcony,

otherwise darkness.

That was all that was to be seen for most of the night.

Light comes in from the dawn, it is later.

Sleep, dream mad things. Questioning, interrogation memories. The bastards make you feel more stupid than you are.

Light pouring in through the window. Bright.

Sound of son upsetting a wine bottle making coffee for the wife.

When does this state of luxurious misery 

change?

end?

cannot go on for ever.

christmas holiday 14 first day

deep sleep zolpidem. Only ten to a package, less than deadly. Easy to take, moment of weakness, all gone.
NO.

Christmas day early wakening.Clear up the used plates cups and glasses of last nights revelry. Not much, Three people. Start the dishwasher, make coffee , son cuddles, doing latin, minecrafting, computer systems.
Old game runs on NeXT, steve Jobs big system.
Bring the coffee to the bedroom, rest assured.
Son and wife reading stories in bed.

peaceful.

Grey and warm christmas day.

christmas eve 14

Wake after unconsciousness.
remember the alarm, hours ago
get up sit up alarm off search for clothes...
Wife points out that it is christmas eve. This is a day off work, peace on earth.

Sore throat.

Son up, half the energy going into minecraft going into school instead would make him a genius.

Coffee to awaken
check face in the mirror.
Rosacea receeding rapidly.
that is good news.




happy christmas

day two week twenty three two thousand and fourteen

no sleep, just tiredness, daydreams all night. Unreal, unholy, not to be desired, not to be wished upon anybody. Electronic noises at five in the morning, just as sleep seems possible, was not to be. The shower, same as always, shower head in need of replacement.

Face cream and pills, slow recovery of inflamed areas in the face. Slow coming and therefore slow to go away. Glasses found, go for the car.

Last time this year.

Gear in wrong, touch car in front.

oh.

ah well.

no harm done.

through the tunnel, accelerate up the bee eleven road, make the lights.

Drive through the dark countryside.

half an hour to work. Listen to music.

Joe Cocker died yesterday.

sad.

great singer.

day one week twenty three two thousand and fourteen

hear noises in the dark at four in the morning. To the kitchen, is it mice? what is it? gnashing squeaking noise. Bird on the roof? In the dark? Rats? Cake on the sideboard untouched.
No idea. Listen. Sound comes again, lights are on now. It is from the sons room. Is he having nightmares?
Do not know. Must follow this up. Back to bed, rest, think of half brothers iniquity, stupidy, think of the stepmothers greed, her fraudulent behaviour. Wildo never paid, earned critiscism.



Alarm at five, go to shower, shower, teeth pills, get dressed, leave the house.
Take the car today and tomorrow, work early.
Drive in the dark, through the tunnel under the castle.

Radio four, slow drive.
It is early. Work at six.
Untill sixteen.

Sunday Advent four

Up, wake, barely light. Hypnos grabs his own again, back for another nightmare. Imprisonment at work. Strange. How can you sign your own life away?
 up at eight pills wash and cream the nose.
Son up, go out, get prtezels.
Handy living in the town centre

return, son has set the table, set up the coffee machine
Sunday's daze.

freeday saturday

up late overslept maybe the body needs it no knowing. No no.
Get up find pills little round hard ones big cumbly soft ones, small granular ones. all different. Pill carton bursts again, put it together, keep the pills in order.
Bathroom quickwash, cream face with the doctors cream. No change yet, no miracles, rednosed day like the last years.
Get up make coffee, get dressed son at minecraft again.
Son has set the breakfast table!

go out, go to bakers shop, get brazen pretzels, return, pour coffee for wife, all out
Saturday breakfast

day five week twenty two two thousand and fourteen

19.12-20/4

Dark, beeping alarm dock, lit numbers in the dark.

Five oh-oh. Light on, three tablets, slug of water, go to bathroom, shower, slave. The hot shower drives away that Tinnitus. In the bedroom cream on the face, the nose and the cheeks. Strange slimy cream. Find the watch, set the clock. put on the shoes. Novelties? no way- go down the stairs and leave the house, reach the bus stop only half aware, as my two Italian ladies pass the bus stop's shelter. Early trucks rush down the main road, they have messages to do, errands to make. Early morning work-goers, there are a few, but it is just too early.

The smoker standing outside the square, with his little pig tail, bowing before the wind trying to light his cigarette. Say good morning, good morning.

The big blonde girl his two baldy guys working with her in the cafe. She is still slow, but getting faster by the week. coffee with a lid, coffee on the go. Hedgehog is there, alone. There are fewer people today, a general holiday atmosphere, pleasant.

Leave late for the platform, that platform number six. The train is waiting. Waiting for eight minutes past six, when it may move.

        Punctually it moves. Sit and write, look at the other passengers, most of them asleep. Look and write. The lights in the carriage are not as bright as always, why, some of them are'nt even on. This makes the people sleep, this lets the people sleep. Dead silence, just the rushing noise from the wheels, with the occasional rattle as functions in the track, or level crossings are passed.

        It is completely dark outside, the moon is possibly new, or almost new today. Just the occasional light from a house, or a streetlight seem to rush by the apparently motionless train. Entering Moosburg the chemical plant has a few bright lights, The Netto discount store advertises itself in an obscene bright yellow glare with red lettering...

        Next stop Frcisirg, alone today, Friday before

next Tuesday's Christmas eve. 

day four week twenty two two thousand and fourteen

18, 12.2014. 6:46

       

four beeps, digitally displayed figures  showing in the dark.

Turn it off with care, sit up, light on.

Now, what did the doctor say? one little pill for the face, one bigger pill for the mind, one for the wife, the sun pill. 'Now go for the bower, then cream the rosacea face. If this goes on much further there will be no need for breakfast.Get dressed, electric shaver, leave the house. Unconscious walking, passing under the gate, the two Italian women approaching from the bridge over the river,. The one is so overweight that she can barely balance on her heels, waddling, almost.

Wait for the bus, alone today.

The railway station Bicycles lying about in front of

the railway station block the usual thoroughfare, be careful. There is no-one smoking outside, it is raining.

Inside, at the cafe, a scene of gaiety, and laughter. A railway man, a train driver joking with the girls. He is cheerful and friendly, in no way overdoing it. Anastasia and The blond one, both amused and cheerful.  Coffee taken, the Italian man in his grey working overalls buys his croissant

Pausing to collect a lid for the paper cup, go into the cafes, good morning hedgehog, Moustachio. Both under the silent TV with a copy of the Bild. Italian arrives too, settles down to tearing his croissant bag to display the contents. He always tears the bag open. Is that typical of Italians?

Laughter and gaiety from the counter. 'Have they perhaps been taking something special today?

Or is it because of the cheerful train driver? He has gone now.

who knows.?

Say good morning to the pig tailed maker, he grants "Mogen"...

        Platform is not as full as it commonly is, many are already on their christmas holidays. Train rushes in, brakes later, passengers-to-bes see all their carefully- made plans for advantageous, pre planned boarding destroyed, rushing down the platform chasing the passing doors. Sometimes you would think that they would do murder to be the one to board first.

        Step forward, turn right, train finally stops. Doors open, people get out.

- Onboard first, no chasing, no pushing, nothing-

Luck will beat planning and scheming any day.

The train is roomy and peaceful today

Wildo has a well-lit table all to himself now,.

day three week twenty two two thousand and fourteen

night light sleeper, non waker, alarm beeper, four times, shut off.

The day starts with a beep.

Doctor day today, spots on the nose. Pimples, as excemas, too old for acne.

Rest a while, shower. The shower head needs repair, needs a thorough cleaning! The hot shower reduces the hissing tinnitus, hissing in the right ear. For a while, anyway. Back to the bedroom, get dressed.

..It is nine much later today, it is later than usual. It is seven, the son is up and about, rushes in, morning hug. His hair is very long now, it is to be seen that he has grown, the top of his head is at Wilde's shirt cellar now. Tall and thin...

        _  singing on his way to school.

                The coffee water, unscrew, Bialetti empty old grounds, fill with-water, grind coffee, put it in, screw the lid tight.

                See the old coffee residues in the bialetti top can, rinse them out, all absent minded. Put the

whole lot on the gas, go to check the time of the doctors appointment, go back to the machine, see that it has water in it, is full, take it from the gas happy that it was so fast. Get a fresh cup, fill it up. It is full of water, not coffee!. Forgot  to pour it out, final rinse was a mistake.

Take that machine apart, burn fingers, hot now, superstrong coffee bursts out all over the table, what a mess.

         The coffee water, unscrew, Bialetti empty old grounds, fill with-water, grind coffee, put it in, screw the lid tight

  Waiting forth coffeemaker, talking to son, speaking to the wife. Son finishes breakfast.

 _  singing on his way to school.

      wife complaining about the rubbish collection. They did not collect, just this house, too much work for them to walk around the building site.

        Down the stairs, out the door, down the street. House number twenty eight,.that  dermatological doctors practice.

                On time, up the stairs, door looked.

                Read notice, see opening times, door locked.

                sit.

                wait. 
Wait for the doctor with some others.
All are late, no one there

day two week twenty two two thousand and fourteen

broken sleep ends in broken dream.
clock off, sound gone, sit up, take pills, one for the master, one for the dame, none for little tommy who lives down the lane....
bathroom shower, socks and drawers from the clothes press. all on and move it. Set the imprecise hall clock and
leave the building.
LED lit cyclist, white bright light hurtles down the lane in the rain. Cars driving where there should be no cars, at speeds unallowable, one way streets the wrong way.
It is all possible early in the morning on an overcast rainy day in a middling european town.
The two plump leggings girls have a voluble italian-speaking young man for company today. Talking loudly all excited, gesticulating wildly. Most Italian in his behaviour.

Dolotes at the busstop, good morning.
Nod.
Eyes closed in the bus, listen to the driver's radio, hear the stope being announced, one after the other till Hauptbahnhof,
get out, cross road, greet the pigtailed smoker and his friend, order coffee from anastasia, efficient fast polite unsmiling doing her job type young woman.

The shaven haired bloke is working today too. He and A. get on really well together, works fast, laughing, the two of them. Nice to see.
¡Moustachio! and Hedgehog, at their table talking and laughing.

Train in train on time crush and rush people get on.

Stand back and watch the enthusiastic trainboarding maniacs, wait, let the trains gaurd out first,
get in, find seat.


Pen gone today, all by memoray

day one week twenty two two thousand and fourteen

        15th December, 2014

        Better sleep, silly beep. alarm clock blues, five in the morning on a Monday. No wish to proceed, but get up anyway. Bathroom, shower, teeth and hair. Bedroom, grey shirt, brown trousers, blue jacket. Woolly winter jacket, looks like tweed. Time flies, set the clock, pendulum is insulted. stops. Start it again. Tickety, w-Tok. Not right. Two M*x bells-out. Down the lane, up the street, round the corner, down the street,through the gate. Dolores at the bus stop. On closer view, she has new footwear. Mountain boots, of a sort. Her Leopard  patterned handbag does its job, as before.. Bus comes in, driver gets paid. That is the weekday routine, the way to work, the work-way on the work-day.

       Pig Tailed smoker, smoking in front of the station, good morning, morning, Anastasia, and the big blonde one. Anastasia is the boss, the Blondie rolls her eyes when she is told what to do. Makes dumb comments too. Get the coffee from her today, same rave coffee as always, Hedgehog is there, shortly to be joined by Moustache io. The Italian, with his overall, and his carefully ripped open paper bag, it functioning as a tablecloth for his croissant

leave to the tracks at six in the morning, the train runs in alongside platform five, the railway service obviously cannot make up its mind. On friday it was platform tight. But it is ontime, punctual, driver rolls further than usual, down the platform. The driver is gentle on his brakes, persons on the platform, running, jostling past, like bargain seekers after their prey, putting,-pushing, " do not let the train get away", "no other person will get that perfect seat", "push past", disregard others.

It must be pure hell in a real mass panic . Anaheim. Unimaginably nightmarishly hellish.

Couple of older office people are the neighbours in the Train, Chatting together avidly, going to keep this up for the whole ride to F arsing. A gentleman from africa turns up, sits down across the small table, opposite to the chatter.They look at each other, shut up, silent. Why? No matter, the result is peace and quiet.

¡actually, it matters.

a lot!

third sunday

NO
not again
NO NO
Lie awake, pain
NO NOT AGAIN
gasping mouth agape,
snoring nightmares no air-
Pillow under head, breath steadily
It is bad to think of it, unawareness impossible,
Slow Steady now, day of rest sunday, no panic, sleep if you want to,
DO NOT if you don't, won't, can't,. Like a plant, let the world move on.
calm, stay in shape,
lie on the side, pull up the knees.


At eight, awake,
grey overcast, look at the window reflecting the sky on the other side of the yard,
through the bedroom window,
from the bed.
day begins
clean teeth

in the bathroom,
make coffee,
chat to the dear son,
he is talking about Pluto's moon,
and how Pluto is much the same size
as the Moon,
and Pluto's moon,
is much the same size as

Pluto

blueskysaturday.

if sleep was for the wicked. then wildo must be a saint. Saint Wildo.
No, No. that is not even a dream.
wake worried about the time. Go to bathroom. Double relief it is only three.

Grey light from a clear sky before dawn. The view of a window sill that has not been tidied, cleared up, or dusted for the last yonks. Get up, kitchen, cold coffee, see son in sitting room at the table doing his homework. Is'nt he a saint? German homework. German Grammer. Learning to write logically. Do him no harm, would do nobody harm.

Cuddle, clean up the kitchen, tidy here there and so forth. To clean up everywhere would take a long time. Make fresh coffee, start the dishwasher wipe the table.
Bring her a cup of coffee for the wife, her morning rest.
Son is now at mathematics.
That sky has turned blue with one streak of condensation from a passing jet bisecting the view.

day five week twenty one two thousand and fourteen

Nightmare choking, rumbles screaming abuse, alarm sound, breathgasping tinnitus whisle.
Recover.
Light on, pills in, start up, pyjamas off, bathroom.
Shower, dry,okay. One bell sounds outside it being quarter past the hour. Return to bedroom, get clothing, find shoes, search for glasses all over the place, find glasses, leave the building.
two tinny-sounding church bells from the jesuit's church, walking down the lane seconds later the sound of the two big bells of Saint Martins.
Church windows that are tall and slim, gothic; illuminated from inside with yellow light.
Somebody forgot to turn off the light.
Rumbling cars on the cobbles, big trucks, all trying to get their jobs  done before the first customers arrive.
Chrismas lights everywhere,  on the walls, hanging over the street, in the windows; looking the worse for the lack of snow.
In the shelter at the bus stop there is a really strong smell of shit today. Overpoweringly strong. Looking out through the glass back of the shelter two large heaps of what is probably dogshit are visible on the grass shining black in the lamplight from the streetlights. If they are not dogshit........ who knows what?
Leave the shelter before the smell becomes a habitant of the nose and is an accompaniment for the rest of the day.
It is good that it is not raining. Office people pass, all talking wildly, one man with two women. Those two heavily built women pass again, black hair, sad expressions. Both with dark jackets, and one with a floral black and white pattern on her leggings. These are of that warm type, midway between tight trousers and stockings.
Two persons board the bus, wildo last.
one Euro and ten Cents. That is the fare. Fair.
Cross the station square, enter that building.
Greetings from Anastasia are a big and charming smile, the like of which has been invisible for the last months.  A cheerful, happy and friendly smile showing a neat row of white teeth.

All she said was
"Guten Morgen"

....and it was so.

Postman playing with his mobile at the bistro-style table in the cafe, hedgehog and ¡m! at another table talking and flirting with the big blonde waitress.
A pen, bought at the newsagent, lands in the pocket of the shirt.
On returning from the newsagent the pig tail man standing in the corner wishes good morning. He is indoors today, wearing a big grin for some reason.
The longhaired black dressed, stool-dragging girl arrives, her open hair is not black anymore but brown with blonde streaks.
Bleach?

Whilst on the platform there is a strange announcement over the public address system informing travellers that the train for munich will be leaving from platform six TODAY.
Up untill today it normally did that, every day.
Then another pre-recorded voice informs that the train will be leaving from platform eight.
Everyone down the stairs, into the tunnel, up the steps and onto the oldest platform in the station.
Train comes in, blowing its whistle

Climb aboard, the platform is a very low one. Drink the coffeee togo standing.
Sit down.
At Moosburg a man reeking of garlic gets in and sits down one row back.
There is no such thing as continuous good luck.

day four week twenty one two thousand and fourteen

11 defender 2014

Shower confusion, wrong liquid, not shampoo. Mirror view, red hair. Horror.

beep; sleep, beef..

Beep off!

Upon wakening, check the mirror, see the truth hair really grey, Shower shave, dry, bedroom, pants and socks, watch. Set the slow clock, pendulum badly hung.

Dry now, pack umbrella.

Down stairs, unlock door, walk through the building site. Admire the newly decorated window of the leather shop,-pass the church, wet, deserted lanes here.

The Altstadt street has five huge delivery trucks parked across ways, trade ends to the shops, unloading. Man in a white coat, baldheaded, elderly, busy running about. Van, Marais, Bachmeier, the others are further away . This is all provisioning for the ehristmas holidays, foodstuffs and gifts.

Underpass the city gate, bus stop, no-one there.

The river sar is gleaming sullenly in the dark, the reflection of the street lights from its opposite bank, and the still-illuminated deserted hotel, adding their highlights to the black water.

Two young women, generously built, dark haired, pass,  conversing in, maybe Italian. Both wearing black jackets, and stripy-patterned white and dark leggings..., Away to the town centre, through the

city gates in the orange glow of the street lamps. Police ears and delivery tracks enter the town by the same route.

That number one bus, with a new driver, halts, after slowly approaching the stop. The buttons, and switches, on screen displays and audible signals the driver needs to care for., almost let him forget the fare. No luck though, five stops to the railway station, deserted forecourt.

 Anastasia fast, feeding her customers three at a time, looking tired. Bigblondie overfriendly with

a tray of tomato sandwiches, cannot pass, pushes and squeezes in the constrained space between Anastasia and the coffee machine

They do not yet get on, these two.

H and M. are at their places under the television, silent, showing football, haddball. A cigarette- stinking unshaven young  gentleman in a postal service uniform stands at one of the tables drinking coffee from the ubiquitous paper mugs.

No-one else Today.

        

Cargo trains pulling wagons were into the station and stop, thereby blocking the view upon the tracks, Two trains, two directions, view twice blocked.

Five fifty nine according to the white numbers on the screen of the television. Bottom right hand corner, five-fifty-nine.

Time for the railway platform. time to' join' the crowd in its daily game of trying to predict the position of the Trains doors...

The pigtailed smoker playing that game too.        Personal advantages taken, first on, place of choice.

day three week twenty one, two thousand and fourteen

10.Dec.2014

four thirty, four forty five, four forty seven, four forty eight, wife awake, four fifty nine,

Five in the morning, alarm clock beeps, get up, go to bathroom. It is not rocket science, it is just the daily norm. Shower slave, admire the spots that have grown overnight, back to the bedroom, put on the clothes from the. cupboard clothes press, from the wardrobe, put them on, take the tablets, drink some water.

Search for the glasses, find them, wear them, hair combing, jacket on, do not forget the shoes.

Down the stairs, two bells from st martings, leave the house, thread through the building sites. Oldies gold shop looks exciting and mysterious, a tailors dummy in a shawl, a single bulb,..

Down lane, no people, wait for the bus alone.

There is a flock of women passing, maybe office people. as the bus opens its doors. One fare for a short distance.

The pigtailed smoker, smoking at the smoker's yellow- bordered square, talking to a highly dressed, white- haired woman who smokes too. Fiftys.

say good morning,.

Freindly glance from the short-haired, near shaven man. He is getting good at his job now.His talkative blonde colleague is making jokes with its ¡moustacheio! trying to cut tomatoes for sandwiches at the same time. Hedgehog is there, the Italian man at another table. He does strange things to his paper bag, crumpling it. He has finished his croissant. Long haired black handbag girl, 

dragging the stool the Italian had been siitting across the floor to the H+M table, sits down, chats.

Leave for the 'platform, the train is in.

Inside the carriage; a strong smell of garlic body odour starts to fill the space as the train heaves out. Before reaching Maesbury, change places. An unbearable stench, at this hour at the morning, too.

The brain will possibly fill in Moosburg. See, it does. Chattering people, zipping their bags, getting their newspapers.

Head in a daze.pk renewed. At the previous place they are all coughing now, choking coughs It cannot really be the garlic, but who knows?

It is a bad time for vampires, more people leave that corner of the carriage. All wearing strained expressions,busily remaining polite

Freising. 

day two week twenty one, two thousand and fourteen

wife wakes shakes tells the time
overslept.
disastrously
again
find
clothing
around
fresh socks
brush teeth
take car
walk down street,
past the police#
there it is
blue benz
get in
drive past the christmas market
into the tunnell
out of the tunnel
leave landshut

head in such disorder.
No regular pattern at all.

day one week twenty one, two thousand and fourteen

8.12.2016

       Check clock at three, establish that there is time left to rest, time until five. The dock alarm has not been set, sleep on and doze untill six. Much too late, shower. Overslept, stupid. Take clothes from the wardrobe, find socks in the drawers,. Put it all on, wonder whether I should use the car or not. Swallow two pills, the days dose.

             NO

                Rain today, rain reigns ok. Steady patter, noisy spatter. street sweeping machines cleaning the streets gutter, spraying more water on the rain-soaked cobbles before brushing over them with one of the rotating brushes. Brigh flashing orange LED lights, very bright, very abrupt.

        it is later, there are people in the streets, big trucks delivering wares to the stores, it is still very dark. A man and two women wait in the bus shelter, sheltering from the rain. Bus in five minutes.

                It has more passengers than the earlier one. It arrives at the station as the Train to Munich is leaving, Yorma's Anastasia, giving away small chocolate father christmas models, gets her money for the coffee after my struggle with the wallet. Of course all the other people usually there have long gone. Time has elapsed, 'sit in the cafe, fifteen minutes wait for the next train.. Make notes, drink coffee, No choice, just

wait.

People hurry past outside, time is passing, 'platform six, seven oh eight.
Doubledecker train

late late late. 

sun son day

dim dim quiet, lying down. The head whistle is quiet, will get noisy later. Get up, take the tablets both, both for the mind. Sleep breaks, strange dreams in the night. A  television showing publicity for some organisation selling electric chairs for the execution of death sentences. Horror, holding breath , the screen is black, as a hooded head might see it, the click of an electric switch, a scream cut short. All a nightmare, disgusting, terrifying, heart race, gasping. It is over fast.
Racing an undefined vehicle into a dip, deep hole in the road filled with water, swerve, violent muscle contraction and waken, gasping for air. Strange dreams, odd nightmares. See the sense in all of that, speculate on madness.
Dim. Manchmal, sometimes, then clear as a bell the silence of Downey's day pours purely in through the window, with the inviting soft light of the day.
It is eight thirty already, still lazy day.
Get up, go to bathroom, return. Clothing black, shoes take this little silver machine to the sitting room start writing.
Son up, gets books, starts to learn his latin. Peaceful morning.

Sunday silence, cold coffee. start the day

sadderday six

Sore and sleepy, friday party night.
up six back to bed. Son up rushes around, good humoured.
ten thirty up and about.
son, do that homework


please

haircut today, hair looks like a grey mop,


get it cut

day five week twenty two thousand and fourteen

5 Dec 20/4

"Remembering yesterdays catastrophic oversleep wake, reach for the clock, give it a knock, falls to the floor, batteries fall out. Clock dead. This is a mess. Light on, find clock, find battery, insert battery. The clock shows the time again, it is four forty five. Lie back, celebrate those fifteen minutes. Five oh one, shower, shave, try to comb the hair. go for a haircut today! get clothing, find the jacket. Put on new watch, set clock, it only has five minutes today....

Up the street, sunken-headed, past building site, blin, through the annual forest of christmas trees in front of a cafe, unopened as yet. Karstadt, all brick and concrete, gloomy. Wait for the bus, watch Dolores arrive, slowly walking to the stop, same clothing.,, leopardskin - patterned handbag. Boots undone, felt boots, sloppy. Young woman with heeled boats and a tight outer jacket clicks by,

to be ready and waiting at the exact spot the bus will stop at.. Efficiency and neatness, in purity. Much like many others, hiding behind perfect appearances.

        The bus driver today is an overweight man,

filling out the drivers enclosure, seems uncomlfortable. Give him the money, donkey's scone..

        The bus passes the austere facia of a deserted apothecary place at the Hofungerweg bus stop, 'Dolores leaves the vehicle.

        Anthill the mornings greetings from the pigtailed smoker and the dressy elder woman there are no memories left to report. Yormas cafe, the girl serving today rushing about in haste, unrelieved, not particularly efficient. Calls the other woman, lewd blonde starts makin  familiar greetings to the customers, whether she knows them or not. The service girl  trys to show her where help is needed. The blonde sticks out her tongue at her back, grins at the waitingcustomers end-commences general conversation. Silly. Al burn

        The cafe waiting room, Hedgehog and !M¡ at their usual places.

        Italian type worker arrives, trendy glasses, clean but worn working suit, and commences to rip open the yoma's paper bag, carefully, a series of small tears proceeding untill the croissant inside is lying naked on the table, on its flayed covering of yellow- patterned paper.

- The blach haired black dresse handbag girl drags a stool  across the floor.

        Mosaic maker arrives, her overalls fresh, her hair done, laughing. She is bad and cheerful (..

Proud of her status as a craftswoman, maybe.. A working artisan, off to work in workers clothing,  the pubevenings still in those clothes. A careful risky fashion, her pierced ears and careful hairdo may tell other stories.

From the seat in the train the little diesel train is now visible, on it way back to Rosenheim on the wobbly by-rails of the sidetrack across all the villages

In Freising, the stairs from the station underpass to the platform are covered in fresh vomit..

good morning! 

day four week twenty two thousand and fourteen

sleep pink dreams, grey awakening dark out.
sleep
sleep

Honk hooting wifes alarm rips an end to sweet dreams and evil thoughts.

time
six forty five
overslept

get up find clothes get dressed it is too late anyway find alarm clock swithced off in hallway.
Alarmclock switched off?

Ok, own fault.
Good morning sonnyboy, off to school after twodays sickness.
get feet dressed, no small feat.


get out down street into car
go to work

late 

day three week twenty two thousand and fourteen

3.12.2014

awake alarm after a night with little sleep and bad dreams Stare at the still-dark cieling, look at the clock, reads 5.05.  S.O.S. Get up, shower bathroom, return, find clothes, all new today. go back to bedroom, get the clock. No wristwatch, Set the impressiv imprecise wall clock, the one that ticks quietly, the old school thing. Walk down church lane as the bells sound twice for the half hour.

        The old street is full of racing delivery trucks, all in a hurry, doing their christmas delivery for the Christmas trade. Driving-like maniacs.

        Dolores is not at the bus stop, apart from a group of cyclists  swooping by much as the swallows fly, intently, quickly. Swoop!

        Find change for the bus, to keep the bus driver happy, board the bus, have a ticket now. A fair fare.

        Station, well lit, christmassy, the smoker with his pigtail.

gut wagon. Huygen.

        The big blonde and the shaven headed man at the cafe today. He is preparing the days sandwiches, she is serving, effusive, slow. Hard to ray why she is so slow.

        There is a bad smell of stale bread and old coffee. Perhaps the rubbish needs to be taken out. They must have a lot of rubbish, that cafe.

        Hedgehog there alone, the Italian worker with his snotty stylish glasses too. Moustache is there, and the long haired handbag girl arrives in a new winter jacket in the style of a figure advertising french automobile tyres. But in black, true to that woman's style.
Rosenheim train is in, so leave for the platform. There is a puddle of what looks like urine in the station underpass. A smells of beer, in passing. No further analysis,required, there is a train to catch.. There are people all practising assertive boarding  techniques today, after the train has slowed to a stop. Grim faces, The concept of not doing their best to be the first onboard is entirely foreign to their way of thinking. Struggle, as if there is no time,. 

Wait inside the carriage for the train to leave the station. Small black squares on their velvet-like seat covering, plastic-covered headrests. rests. The antimacassars have gone, fewer people use hair oil anyway. This went out of fashion fifty years ago. Wooden armrests, formica tables, linoleum flooring.  Fluorescent tlght tubes, glaring bright. That their colour is really very greenish is clearly visible in the facial shin colouring of all the passengers. pale greenish yellow, unhealthy.

A man leant with a huge beard leaves the brightly lit train toilet. It has wide sliding door, and is lit inside by even brighter lights. This illumination pours out on other ride of the man  standing centrally in the opening- hands on his hips, beard flowing.

Encounters of some other kind.
It looks as if he has been teleported in from another time, like a filmic depiction of time travel, hollywood lighting effects and all.
The door closes behind him, with a Star trek hiss, like some kind of airlock to another dimension.

Wake up, Moosburg has gone, we are slowing down for Freising

day two week twenty two thousand and fourteen

2.12.2014

        Clatter of doors, steps in the bedroom, the son of to the nightly toilet. He comes back in a panic, cannot talk. His sore throat has taken his voice, he is frightened.

He leaves all the tlghts on. 

It is four in the morning, beginning of December

        Up at five, on account of the clock, waking light, wakening beep. Take two pills, vitamin D (for the wife), fluoxetin (for da doc) of to bathroom and shower, shave dry brush teeth, all these things :clothes en, can find no sorted socks.

        Check all The clorks, all are five minutes off, one way or another..

        Five twenty eight, out on the street, pass saint Martins churg as the bells go for half past.

        Dolores in the bus shelter, small, portly, waiting far her bus. two There is no knowing what she does, where she comes from.

        The bus arrives, from Peisenberg. The number one , the first today. The five stops seem to pass by the windows, five minutes later we all arrive at the station.

        Pig tailed smoker, feet on the outside edge of the yellow smothers square, first cigarette or fifth, who really knows?

        Anastasia and the headshaven man seem to get on, he is keen, she is proficient....... He is courteous, and dailybetter at the job, doing customer service in a station cafe. Anastasio remembers that wildo drinks coffee. The day is saved.

        The strange Italian comes to the table, with his cross aunt, with his coffee., well dressed in clean working clothes. Tears apart the bag the croissant was given in to use this as a plate, or a tablecloth. Tidy little man with frameless glasses.

H&M, the two usuals, joined shortly afterwards at their table by the girls, long haired black bagged, chair dragging, and the 'mosaic maker with her long hair cropped over her ears, many metal rings there too.

Silent television on the wall shows football players rushing around their pitch, no professional, nor very trained. The best of the test, and still one side has to lose.

Both cannot win the game. Earlobes pierced all over

Platform Time, there is an unusual warning not to leave bags unattended. Is this an account of a new bomb threat, or are there thieves about? The threat of terrorist bombing is immanent, * how they imagine that this is a workable method to further their ideals is beyond understanding. Perhaps it is just pure humble impotent hatred- that causes this.

Train rushing in, far down the platform, it is almost as it the driver forgot to apply the brakes.

Find a seat, make these notes, pass Mossburg, arrive at FREISTNS. 

day one week twenty two thousand and fourteen

1.12.14

Dreamy dozes, beeping clock., Three beeps, turn it off, stretch. Feet out of bed, feet on floor, push and vertical. Go to the bathroom wash. Sore throat, an earache, headwhistle. All reasons not to get up today, but for habit and duty. Blackish brown cords a black shirt, black shoes. check the clock, turn the light out..

Five thirty two, leave the house, past a brown Opel, down the lane. In the middle of the tweet, in front of the church, there is a shiny christmas decoration on the ground. A silvery reflective ball on the cobbles, the cobbles of dark basalt.

        Dolores and a blackbird at the bus stop, men in orange working clothes working in the brightly lit doorway of the storeroom adjacent to the public public lavatory's entrance. They are fifty yards away, but so dearly visible because  of the dark surroundings, the bright light and those reflective suits. 

Dolores leaves the bus at the Hofangerweg, The same dragging gait as she always has.. Dolourful, not colourful. Anastasio nervous, with her piping voice, serving fast, everyone has their coffee or whatever in no time 'flat. Mousitachiv and Hedgehog chatting and laughing, the black haired, black coated, black hand bagged flatheel booted girl joins them, drags over a stool first,

- and after a few records starts to read the paper. later she is to be seen running to the ticket machines, and joining a queue in front of one of them. She is late, the train is in early.

It is Monday, the first of December, the train is full. After Moosbuvy, it is packed. A woman opposite has patterns painted on to her fingernails in a deep red color. On first view it looks as if she has hit her fingers with a hammer. That effect was unlikely to have been unintentional. 

inelegant last sunday in November

Grey november skies are inviting pull make remaining in bed inviding. Young man takes the short cut through the bedroom to the bathroom. Tinkle flush wash return, complains of dizziness and cold. A start to the christmas season, first advent, season of goodwill. A bad omen in the time of good will to all of man.

Sits on the sofa staring at the television showing sentimental rubbish about the beauty of old fogeys and their grandchildren taking relaxed walks on the shore of bavarian lakes in summer after protracted breakfast on hotel patios over the water of these lakes with paddle steamers paddle steaming over the sparkling morning-sun illuminated surface delivering early morning postmen wheeling antiquated bicycles with their post bags- cut to the commentator saying this blue landscape always fascinates him.
the stupid asine logorohoic git. Quasselsuechtiger Eselhaftiger Volltrottel.

You think wildos humour is not up to the mark?
It is in miserable order.

Everyone coughing hawking, no spitting yet.
And they show pictures of half-dead fully demented pensioners enjoying the eve of their lives in the overpriced summery environment of the bavarian lakes near Munich.

Why get wound up.
Bring the bialetti to the balcony, put the old grounds into the waste bin, return, pour out the sons peppermint tea, give it to him, that asine show was too much for even him, put the bialetti together and turn on the gas flame.

Headwhistle joins gas hiss.

misery

saturday,end of November, 2014

stand up got bathroom, still dark, brush teeth, five am,
estupido
saturday, home day, day of no profitable work for any employer,
but the family, they don't pay, but are the only matter worth that.

later, son rushes through to bathroom,
same story.
jumps into parents bed on the way back
cuddles
warms up, it is cold and the fire is not on.

Wife complains, she needs her sleep, says she.

Get up get dressed, go to kitchen, admire mess of yesterday.
ugh.
Unscrew coffee maker, bialetti brand, grind coffee,
fill the machine, tighten it up, turn on the gas,

let it steam,
hissing sounds, gas burning,
let it steam
When the time comes she will start to bubble,
black brew pouring into the mug,
let it steam
hissing souds gas burning
let it steam.

think of the long time you can live on a dead beetle.

Find the computer
join the son at the table
him doing homework, wildo blogging

day five week nineteen two thousand and fourteen

'Not a thing 'of enjoyment, a sounding alarm dock, beeping, creates panic. Shut it up before it wakes the house, the neighbours. Wrong button, it will start again in five minutes. Take it to the bathroom, to the shower. It rings again, step out , silence it. Find clothes, get dressed leave for the street, dry cold morning, go past the blue building site tarpaulins. The market stands are being set up for the mornings market. Long trucks, sausage salesmen, fish people from Bremen, local mulled wine makers. The Christmas season has begun. Plastic bicycle tail light lying on the cobbles where it must have fallen after being shaken loose by the vibrations.

A man hurries past carrying a suitcase, on a nervous look on his face as he makes progress up the road. He is wearing a tan raincoat and is carrying, not wheeling, an old-fashioned. suitcase of the name colour.. Short haired man.

        shop people pass in the other direction, heading for town, for their employment. Todays bus driver has fair hair down to her shoulders, is efficient, and drives well fast and gently, all the way to the Station, Stadtpark, 'Hofangerweg, all the five stations the bus passes announced  by prerecorded message on the loud speakers.

Pigtailed smoker gesticulates wildly in an animated conversation with that colourful woman, both smoking in front of the station. As always, just-outside the designated smoking area. These are rebellious people, non-conformists. Well, maybe half-non-conformists. Anastasia has her hair undone today, unsmiling team leader, directing her shaven-headed colleague around, he seems still to be in training. She is faster that he is, he is straining to keep up and to do everything correctly. She has her hair in a ponytail today.

Today is a discount stamp day, all the stamps are on the card. No paying money. Goody.

¡Moustachio! and Hedgehog, longhaired blackbag girl and mosaic maker all there, all talking, chats and jokes.

Italien gent at the table tears open his bag and eats his croissant in a gobbling fashion, head lowered over the table, spraying crumbs.

The Rosenheim train comes in .

Platform No.6 is full of fridays travellers.

On the train: One man writing notes in blue ink.

A man hurries past carrying a suitcase, on a nervous look on his face as he makes progress up the road. He is wearing a tan raincoat and is carrying, not wheeling, an old-fashioned. suitcase of the name colour.. Short haired man.

Sweating

He must have walked those two kilometers from the bus stop to the railway station.

day four week nineteen two thousand and fourteen

  27 Nov. 20/4

        Alarm, tablets,. water-

        bathroom, shower, teeth

       find socks, shoes and pants,

        check the bag,  pockets,

        watch has no function, leave it.

        down the stairs, into the street g 'down the lane.

        Dolores ahead, walking slowly, dragging herself along, almost.

        guitar 'morgen, gutew Morgen, bus stop greetings:

        Man passes, talking to his colleague, good warning.

Guten morgen

        The bus arrives, Dolores on first.

        Bus driver cannot count. It is early,

        Pigtail smoker at the station. 'n Morgen. Morgan Shaved headed service at the cafe, is faster, than last week.

        The blond service woman at yormas is making her daily jokes with !mouotaehio, Hedgehog sits and looks. The longhaired black bagged girli  makes scraping noise as she drags a stool across the floor. There is the mosaic maker iv, up bright and early, in her working outfit. Jokes all round, humour .

        'Leave for the train as the small train from Rosenheim

- rolls in , seeming to puff and blow, almost, maybe because of its unusual diesel-engine noise...

        Down the stairs, along the corridor, up the stairs to the platform just as the train for Munich comes in.-

        Find a seat, see familiar faces, no knowing who they really are behind their books and knitting, mobile telephones, tablet computers, laptop computers, electronic books, newspapers.

        Some are just sleeping, the attendant passes by and he

- look at all The Tickets.

After the illuminated chemical plant has passed by the windows in a glare of high-wattage white light, the train moves into Moosbury station and stops. People come on board, reeking of perfume, aftershave, cigarette smoke, bags full of fruit, papers.

        All on their way to Facing, where the local train waits., ready to take people on the last part of their journey. Or the part before last. In the usually filthy littley station in Neufahm there will be a bus.The last half hour of public transport.

        Until this evening, just the mornings journey in reverse.

        The days work will be the usual mingling of incompetence and boredom.

        No great chances.to he missed... 

day three week nineteen two thousand and fourteen

26.Nov 20/4.

        awakening uneventfully, find a pill in the dark, tastes strange, more bitter. New pill, new taste.

        Shower shave, teeth and all. All the clocks show different tines today.

        Yellow bay day today. Recyclable rubbish in yellow bags in the lane, to be collected by people in orange overalls. The bakers truck, Mareis, unloading at the bakery, standing at right angles to the houses, blocking the street.

        Dolores, alert,silent, today a quiet good morning. She has, a black knit cap on today .

        Dark and cold, today, the bus seems to arrive more suddenly than usual, the driver, a morose man who  has difficulties with his ticket machine and does not appear to be able to count the change. The station seems almost the next stop, glow of many lights behind dosed eyelids...

        The pig-tailed smoker standing at the yellow square painted around the ash container. 

Good Morning. Mo gen.

Brightly-lit Railway-station-foyer, people standing about, huge screens showing moving pictures. Timetables and stationers, bakers and cafes... Yormn's, Anastasia with plaited hair today, hair in plaits. Coffee as always, fast as always. The colourful woman, dose cropped red hair, silly tattoos, is putting spoonfuls of sugar in her coffee chocolate drink.

        Hedgehog, moustachio, and the other man are at their usual place under the television. Clowning with that other waitress, who is doing her work preparing sandwiches for the mornings rush. Anastasia points out a fault. The big woman does not like being corrected by a small young team leader, and to make matters worse M+H commence making fun of the situation.

        leave for the train reset the watch. It is five fifty nine, in twenty - five minutes the train will be in Freisin, in one and a quarter hours the bus  will be in Garching. 

day two week nineteen two thousand and fourteen

25. Nov. 2014

        At three, a sudden panic. Check the dock, see that it is three, go back to sleep. At five, get up, get dressed brush hair wash teeth. Forget to take the daily tablet. Trying to net up

the dei@ywlem.it does not work. Probably hacked in the night, who knows?

        Turn off the lights, look the door. Dolores is not

at the bus today, today that chatty bus driver. He is trying to be funny, or friendly, or both....

        Railway station in the dark, a confusion of bicycles. on and around the cycle stands, blocking the way, waiting for their owners to return in the evening,. Anastasia in her element fast friendly,. salmon sandwich special for the woman with the red dyed hair no problem, coffee yes of course and thank you... Her grouchy sidekick makes the sandwich, sort of spoils the effect.

by being rather dour and windy.

        Hedgehog and moustache, chatting, laughing at their table. Make salacious comments about th slow waitress. She implies that she would show them her middle finger, but for the fact that she was a decent woman 

        Down the steps, to the underpass, up the steps to the platform. The knees and the hips hurt in the cold, a warning of bad times coming.

        Them. electronic notice boards, warning of a train that will be late due to a construction site on the railway at Eggmuhl. Repair nooks.

        TD epresseet-waitng 'people waiting for the mornings journey to work to be over, sitting, reading, acting working chatting.

        The six-oh-eight to Munich. A regional express from Passau.

        Every day of the week.

day one week nineteen two thousand and fourteen

End of dreams, muffled beep. The clock under a sock. Remove sock, clock off, doze.

Dream.

Two minutes tater, awaken, take the sleeping clothes, bathroom, shower.

The shower head bursts, silly flimsy cheap plastic construcktion, goes well when bought, then it just dies, and breaks. Sprays ice cold water all over the bathroom in its first spasm to release the built-up pressure, before turning into an incompetent dribble.

Clean body mash hair, brush teeth, too la too, Find clothes, gather the money for the fare. Son up, urgent desire,need for the bathroom facilities, still half asleep, says goodnight. Back to bed, back to sleep, two hours more. Downstairs, out into the church lane hurry on see nothing. Past the church, see Grimm store with bicycles in front of it. A single lamp lights the shop's sign. Down past the town gates, car runs up from the rear, swerves. Fast security person, fall of the importance of his job,

good Morning. Dolores; her accent could be eastern European, maybe Balkan. She drags herself to the bus, pays the driver. She only goes to Hofackerweg one stop earlier than the railway station.

Ländtorplatz, Christ us Kirche, Stadt park, Hofaeherweg Hauptbahnhof. The daily   run early in the morning with themunicipal bus service.

Anastasia, neat, fast efficient, puts on the coffee forgets nobody. Des Werden Der Jurgen hotwireleiterin.

        There is a broken beer bottle won the ground, and on t drain, in the underpass. A late last night, celebration, a party perhaps. The beer has gone down the drain, the battle broken bottle bits did not .

      By the time this has been written, Moosbug is past, and Freising is nearing... Monday proceedings, the weeks is starting its trot...

        A shy head whistle, then the train rounds its horn. Slows down, speeds up, on it's way. Two things that have nothing to do with one another.

cold grey sunday

wake, light from window grey and dull. Sounds of sleep, of clocks, Wheeze and ear whistle, chest pains, immobilise, make lazy.
later, eight, iterate.

son up, joue avec l'ordinateur
minecraft.
ugh who would understand?
in his sleeping clothes, amid his schoolbooks
fantasising in a world of blocks,
"grau ist alle theorie,
und grün des lebens goldener Baum"
so much for the memorising of things read
scratch the head and go back to
bed.
Dead tired.
No sense in forcing form upon a shapeless day

saturday, 70th week

Son rushes through the parents bedroom.
Shortcut.
In a hurry to the bathroom.
Returns
dives into the parents bed.
cuddles, warms up.
It is colder again today, and he has been up.
Dealing with his homework.
Translating his latin, this is an exercise.

Falls asleep.

Getup,
tooda loo.
Back to bed,
wife drinking cold coffee
son gone to computer.
Rest a while more.
Admire sons chaotic heap of plastic building kits in the sitting room.
Interspersed with schoolbooks

Him sitting at the computer again.

Make coffee, good for a start

day five week eighteen two thousand and fourteen

sudden pressure in the night dictates, get up toodaloo, dont wait.
tinkle hear five bells- That late?

back to bedroom switche of that alarm.
The wife has done that already. She says so.
Disgruntled.
Lie down, think, car day today, five minutes more okay.
Get up,  shower head lime choked, broke.
Wash hair dry face towel damp ugh.
Fresh towel hair dry back wet so what?

bedroom get dressed, new socks, shirt pants.
Leave the old trousers on, work today
Drink cold coffee, recharge the bialetti,
with fresh ground grains and water,

A nice cup of brown black brew,
and a slice of bread butter cheese.
carbohydrated morning news.


Find glasses leave the house, find blue car
drive, turn on the radio, take a short cut-
up a one way street the wrong way.

day four week eighteen two thousand and fourteen

20.11.2014

Choking sleep, sleep no sleep, no refreshment. Some need the window open, some like it cold.

Up again, fresh clothes. Find jacket, somehow the time goes. Two martins bells, time to go. The little Ato keeps time perfectly .Free paper, on the doorstep, wet now. Maybe a passing dog, maybe the rain. Not a soul around, just a shadow turning the corner, hurrying. Cars speeding past The bus stop, anarchic. Dolores approaches out of the distance, slouch, leopard shin handbag, sloppy boots....

Wait.

                Bus comes in, today is the day of the garrulous driver, making jokes about the money, about the fares. Such humour: The sound of somebody else's headphones, listen to the squeak rattle and pop. It would drive you insane, mad, anything but half heard bits of music with the beats reduced to spits coming out of the wrong end of a pair of earphones. There but not there. Loud enough to be disturbing, too silent to listen to..

        The pigtailed smoker, left of the yellow square, gives a hearty ""Mawgan''. Do the same for him and stride on to the station, need a cup of coffee.

        There we have it!A huge headshaven bloke behind the counter, with.that capless eyeshade in yellow that the girls wear too. The man is wearing sports shoes, not boots. He is alone and slow, so he calls for help.

        A depressive gentleman in a like attire, just crumpled, comes around the corner. The whole man seems crumpled, like an insect fresh from its pupa. With a lethargic took he

        1)  takes his money

        2) gives a stamp

        3) puts on the coffee,

        4)  gives the change,

        5)  serves another

        6) places the coffee-on the-counter with a grunt. 

All done.

        Slow, and surly glances out of an unwashed face.

       ! Moustache ¡and Hedgehog, chatting away, under the television silently showing scenes from some incredibly brutal science fiction film. Hedgehog has his skullcap cap on-his head, over the crown of his head.

       ! Moustache ¡ is flirting with the slightly larger, talk- alive waitress, who has turned up late, and is trying to clean up the mess untouched hitherto by those two gentlemen, who are still getting in each others way serving customers..

        Leave for the platform, the train from Rosenheim is just coming in. Small train, diesel driven. That route has not been electrified. Coming up to the plaform on the granite steps, hear the Agidls  coming in fromt Ingolstadt,-punctual and gray.

        The six o eight to Munich is being announced, and it rushes along the platform two minutes

later.

a woman is knitting in the seat opposite. grey wool, large pattern.

She talks. You can talk whilst knitting.

It is more difficult when you write. Different occupations, different people..