freezing point in Freising

Wed; 30 november 2016

Night of strange dreams, awaken to the quiet hissing from the mask over the nose. Listen, think. And sleep again. The seaside melody from the small mobile 'phone, awaken again, turn off the sound. Remember the dream again, the nightmare. It is still present. Go to the bathroom, shower and wash the teeth. No-brush the teeth. There is no need to shave today.

go down the stairs. The lower half is not dean, that is a job for the next weekend. There will be no time before then. It is yellow bag day today, all of the houses in the street have these bags in front of their doors; Return to the house, go to the yard to collect the other bags. It is too dark, there is no time..
The alley is grey and unwelcoming today, it is a black morning. An orange pickup passes by with a roar from its exhaust. It is a municipal vehicle, street cleaners
on their way to a street that they have to clean.

Walk through the town, there are people wrapped in winter clothing, so highly padded against the cold. At the bus stop, there is the bog cotton man and Dolores. 'All told, all cold.

The bus driver today is a woman wearing a Turkish head scarf, a cheerful woman. She has problems with the machine for dispensing the small change, it is jammed up.But after a few careful manipulations it works again. The bus has a bellows in the middle, at the joint between the front. and the rear halves at the bus...
The young girl with the Rastafarian hair is on the bus, she is wearing the same uncleaned boots as she was some weeks ago.

Later, in the cafe, after having left the lass and crossed the station forecourt, see that she has pale blue leaguer on her finger nails, applied with care and precision. The shoes, i.e. boots, must be part of the outfit, or the look. ft black wool coat, mittens with no fingers. Unusual.

One large coffee, paper cup, and a small round high table. Look at the television, news of Loch Ness is being shown Also, a tragedy in south America, a complete football team lost in an air crash.

Hedgehog and friend chatting at the table opposite, the small dark haired man-still talking nineteen to the dozen.
Seven more-than he should.

and the train is in, it is time to leave again.

Platform six, the train is in already, and with Moosburg past and the Freising stop imminent, stop writing these notes.

The temperature in Freising is well below freezing point.

black streets,basalt cobbles

Tue 29 of November 2016.

The seaside melody and the neighbour's window across the tiny yard. He is a potter, a ceramicist. He is up very early every day, turns his light on. Illuminates his window, with the four panes and the blind.
The mask in it's place on the tablee, get up, go to the bathroom.

The cat is outside on the chair, it awakens as the light goes on, yawns and purrs. Put it on the head, stroke it behind its ears.
In the bathroom, a short shower. The dessictor is. still working, it has dried the room. It is not good. for the orchid, the plant loves the damp air.
Showered, return to the bedroom, a brown- shirt, not the hooded pullover. Too informal, even in informal Germany.
Wear a brown shirt today.

The cat has changed its location from the hallway to the bedroom. And the glasses are on the window ledge, where they should not be.

Look at the mirror, check  the appearance. Old and scrawny. but that is the way after this mass of sentient material has used this tiny part of the planets mass for more than half a century now. Leave the house, through the black streets, basalt cobbles.
There is a maroon Volkswagen van taking an legal short cut through the pedestrian zone.

- On the way through the town gate the wobbly cyclist approaches.This is an old person, barely moving at walking pace. Mayhe seventy, maybe eighty. Maybe female, maybe male, hard to tell, the person is so thickly clothed.

In the distance, there is the bog cotton man standing at the bus stop, blowing clouds of smoke into The cold air. Maybe this is his first cigarette today, who knows. Dolores is in the bus shelter, in all her leopard skin print finery, bag and headscarf. And teachemann arrives too, neatly dressed, with a camera bag over his shoulder with 'Nikon' written on it. Going by the size at the item, it is a small camera.

The bus is crowded, there is one last free seat. There are many people about today, the station is full as well. The telecommunications blackout of the last weekend has made the news on the wall television in the cafe. All those teenagers without Internet! What a shock!

Drink the coffee, watch hedgehog and his friend.
Chatting

peril

late late late night last night.
Watching films on the television, alone.
A string of serialised stories.

For four hours.

Wake late, sleep through the sons preparations for and departure to school.
It is Monday, the regular day off on the forty hour four day week.
A new invention, a new work model,  which can be ended at any time.

Now it is eleven, the day half done,

And that is all

The day is hard to use, there are no friends in this town,
just strange people working away.

It seems to be all about power and influence.

What human relationships are really understood.
A constant background his, this may just be a message,

A message of insistance and importance which
is just not understood.
Like the alarm call for an unkown peril.

A4

a steadily growing grey dawn lights the glass between the wooden frames of the window. Dawn again, Sunday dawn, there is no need to get up early, get up, anyway
it is not really early, it is half past seven, the cat is up and about.
Go to the bathroom.
That will be the first job later today, to put up a new washing line in the attic for all the washing done yesterday. Twenty metre long lines, and  the attic is seventeen long.
All good.

put on the clothes, and see that the son is already up, watching television, some stories of restaurant rennovation.
Good Morning.

Critiscise the homework pages that lie all over the floor. A light scattering of A4 pages, windfall from the homework done before the show on television started.

Make coffee in the kitchen, after clearing the cooker of yesterday's utensils.
And then , to the bathroom again. On the return, the coffee is finished.
Now hurry a bit,a slice of bread, a large cup.
That is it.

And when the cook show has finished, the son gets back to his Latin.
Early roman history.

Politics have not changed much, despite democracy.

And the day is grey, the right hand side of the head hisses.

hissy sunday

dis as ter

Seven in the morning, take off the breathing mask, a new one.
Has it helped? There is no memory of sleep, so who knows.

The bathroom, the clothes, the cat.
the kitchen is untidy again, a mess of things just put down and left where used.
A disaster to wake up to

Saturday.
avoid stress, avoid bad humours, avoid rage.

The son is up and about, Working at the computer.

And later he says that he will have a concert with the school choir.
A Christmas concert.

Find the coffee machine standing behind the plastic bottle of coke
Empty, the machine empty too.
Unscrew the top part, empty the grounds from the little metal sieve.
Clear away the store of packed vegetables just deposited in front of the coffee grinder.
Press the button
loud grinding noise.
Refill
Button again
Grinding noise.
Oh, fill the machine, turn on the gas,
butter some bread,
just leave the mess

This was nothing to come home to, It was there last night, but the tiredness was just too great.
Living in other people`s mess.
Family disorder

unbeatable enmity

25th November 2016

'A transition from sleeping to waking, from dreaming to think Every morning, get up, hurry, prepare for the day, wash, shave before showering so that the shaving cream will just wash off..

Put on all the clothes left out last night. And that is that.. That is all.

It is another dry, cold day. The slow nation cyclist is on theater street again. Very slowly wobbling over the cobbles. There are a few other people walking, more asleep than awake.

The town has hung out it's Christmas lights. Strings of tiny white lights over the streets. Christmas cheer, all the shop windows decorated. A festival for consumers, there is no sense of anything else. Christmas time. A festival for the rich, and for the poor. Any others just go to work as always, take advantage of the holidays, or goats on a tourney, or go on a journey, a holiday trip, to somewhere.

Teacherman-arrives at the bus stop. He says hello, and the bus arrives. The bus is full today, there are more people working, more people going to work early.

At the station, the smoker is solitary in the square marked on the pavement, marked around a ground-bolted silver stand with an ash tray on top. He is standing at the very edge of the square, on the yellow line. A small protest. -

good Morning.
The cafe is full of people standing at the counter. They all seem in good humour. The-girl behind the counter, no, the young woman behind the counter looks up, recognises, and says 'gross Kaffei.
ok
For all of the Christmas Activity, the train is empty, and quiet. There are people, young men, at the nest tah talking loudly and continuously. Because the Train is so empty, it is possible to find another seat, and to continue writing these notes in peace and quiet.

The train is slow today, for some reason it needs to stop and wait in places where it normally does not do that.

But otherwise, all is quiet, only the steady hiss over the right ear, the unbeatable enmity, makes it's hiss. It is quieter today, it was loud last night.

24c

24. November 2016
Uncertain dreams, dreams of strange circumstances, nightmares. Brought to a sudden end by the sound from the flat round cornered mobile telephone. The warm water in the shower awakens, five minutes, shampoo the hair, wash the body, Five miniminutes.
Return to the bedroom, make the bed, find fresh underwear. Dressed, brown shoes, ready to go in ten minutes. The cat is on the bed, relaxed and yawning, stretching, Down to the street, all bare and cold. It is now near the end of November, it is five in the morning, it is cold. It is dark. There is a song.. But that is long gone. And it's writer died this month.
In the main street the security people are on patrol, driving their cars up and down the street, into the side streets. They never leave their cars,
two security man cars are stopped side by side on the main street, their drivers talking to each other from their seats. from a distance it looks as if the cars themselves are talking.
: There is nobody at the bus stop, then Teachermann approaches out of the distance, simultaneously the bus, and things take their course. Pay the fare. The bus is quite full today. That is good, it is not quite as depressing as an other days.


At the station thread a way throught he masses of parked bicycles, leaving the smokedrs square on the left, end up the stairs into the railway station hallway. It is loud there, people conversing noisily, the benches on the left are all occupied. The cafe us in the right, past that bank telling machine. Stand at the glass counter untill the big-eyed girl looks up, inquiringly. Order the "großer Kaffee", and wait, and give the discount card for stamping.
And wait until the coffee has finished dribbling out of the big red machine. The girl hands over the coffee, that is the end of that transaction. Pick up a plastic lid from a small piece of furniture at the door, a piece of furniture holding the plastic lids in two sizes, and also dispensers of the various juices and syrups for flavouring the coffee.


%

and then take a space opposite to Hedgehog in the cafe waiting room, he is being talked to by a short, dark haired man, The man is angry, every second word in his tirade is "scheisse".
Excremental punctuation.

AT six, leave for platform six, wait for the Train.