13.5.2014
the light in the window, shining in faintly shows the time piece, the first sight of this wakening day. The small light on, the tablet, for the sake of order.
Just a regular grey day. The perverts scruffy grey beige trench coat, save drenching a bit. A Barberry would be better, but that is a big brand. Expensive. The cat- needs feeding, is fed. Simple needs can be served with straight forward solutions.
A careful check shows that there are no waste bins in the street at all, despite its being Tuesday. So much for that.
The huge backside of Martin's church at the end of the street, a view daily pictured by tourists.
As always now, the first spokn words are "futon Morgan". to a woman who nods and says the mowgen. She is a a stranger. First words, no more. The bus <= leaves and arrives, the short journey is unconscious.The hairy smoker is at his place, friendly today, his ponytail is everyday grey. Coffee-and a greasy bite to eat. The girl in the kitchen. So neat and tidy. Unsmiling. The days ciruit runs, there is a change in the weather, it will be brighter tomorrow, brighter wtilt the rummer wanes to the Autumn, the Winter, and back to the spring .To forget the past is to rob the future of any value that it may have: The past will only charge in the mind, the future can deliver the unexpected, that which the past can explain, illustrate, inform, and provide the true structures to be dealt with.
The present is a fleeting instant, a jagged, ever- rising peak. It is the instant of now, its amplitude is determined by what went before and that which will follow.
sitting in a train with a yellow sign in light emitting diodes on the bulkhead ahead. The writing says 06:27 München Hbf. Blueseats, the cloth with black squares on it.
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