Without real purpose
Finally, after reluctantly turned part of the morning in the Tiergarten district, after eating grilled sausages and salad at an outdoor cafe, I went to do what I was there: a discuss Again and communication technologies, pretend to believe they would upset the world to give humanity a "new frontier". Debates, petits fours, coffee, smiles agreed congratulations protocol, a mixture of languages, asides, ritual exchange of business cards ... I finished in four hours, but because I did not settle anything for myself, I was not satisfied and I wondered how long I'd be able to play this social comedy in which I shut myself up: good father, good husband, good citizen, man little public dispute, good staff ... the very symbol of a life without problems but without originality or inspiration, a life that is left rather live one life to live. It is also true that nothing really inspired me and that if I looked before me, I could see little alternative to a more or less long pursuit of the same: in fact I never had to true and was no longer able to invent myself. When problems are not concrete, there is a certain complacency of melancholy: I roamed the streets in the sun weeping about myself ... so rather than take a taxi, I chose to walk to my hotel. Berlin is a city to live, the streets are wide, the many parks and trees, traffic moving: I think so-because it is a remedy that I have often used as walking-I would see clearer than through neutral zones where there was no reason whatever occupies my mind, I shall succeed to see a little clearer in me. A good hour's walk made me well indeed, and if I still had not decided otherwise, to agree to wait for no-change, finding a happy elementary sense, I felt better. I arrived at the Hotel Aldon ...
soon as I entered the porter whom I asked told me that the keys were less than an hour a man asked me but it does wanted to let neither a word nor his name forty years, he said, brown hair, slightly slanted eyes, but what had particularly striking was his accent that he could not have set the origin ... I immediately realized that it was Saint-Loup
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Expiration Of Membership Letter Sample
Eros center
... I took a taxi, I did drop near the Tiergarten-station near the scene of my-conference, it was fine, broad streets, low noise, low pollution Berlin encourage walking, I had no reason to hurry especially since I had not yet decided what I wanted to do. I knew that was played is one of the crucial moments of my existence and that, because I was too old to procrastinate, the seemingly simple decision for me or not to make my lecture the rest of my life would depend. The area is commercial, it was the end of the morning, the area is the most lively people of all ages, all conditions, all races came and went in all directions after each, for reasons unfathomable, their own paths : the crowd where I could lose myself and ignored me, indistinct and indifferent, suited to my mental state. I allowed myself to absorb in its movements, dropped my gaze to the most mundane events: a red beret mother crossing the street, on a pram, a girl in a green beret, a junkie sprawled on a bench at the subway exit, a band of punks crested red, nose rings, grouped around a miserable dog and giving him the cans on the sidewalk for blocks, a flock of pigeons continued on the spot by a black girl and a couple of obese Americans consulting a map of Berlin; ordinary life ...
I could forget everything and to do more thinking about the hundred days of upset me, be only in the small pleasures of no consequence now: I went into a coffee bar, leafed through a few international journals at a booth, lingered a few windows no other purpose than to lose myself in a neutral, listened mechanically few conversations without interest, spent without reason from one street to another. I finished and found me in front of the Museum of Eros Beate Uwe where two posters announcing an exhibition of erotic objects: first, a young woman dressed very strict, very tight gray suit, turtleneck sweater, small oval glasses, showed, to a splendid male students ivory dildo, the second symmetrical, a young man, also held gray and strict, even turtlenecks, same oval glasses, showed some teenagers a chastity belt. I looked carefully to the man of the poster. Without a doubt, it was Saint-Loup.
... I took a taxi, I did drop near the Tiergarten-station near the scene of my-conference, it was fine, broad streets, low noise, low pollution Berlin encourage walking, I had no reason to hurry especially since I had not yet decided what I wanted to do. I knew that was played is one of the crucial moments of my existence and that, because I was too old to procrastinate, the seemingly simple decision for me or not to make my lecture the rest of my life would depend. The area is commercial, it was the end of the morning, the area is the most lively people of all ages, all conditions, all races came and went in all directions after each, for reasons unfathomable, their own paths : the crowd where I could lose myself and ignored me, indistinct and indifferent, suited to my mental state. I allowed myself to absorb in its movements, dropped my gaze to the most mundane events: a red beret mother crossing the street, on a pram, a girl in a green beret, a junkie sprawled on a bench at the subway exit, a band of punks crested red, nose rings, grouped around a miserable dog and giving him the cans on the sidewalk for blocks, a flock of pigeons continued on the spot by a black girl and a couple of obese Americans consulting a map of Berlin; ordinary life ...
I could forget everything and to do more thinking about the hundred days of upset me, be only in the small pleasures of no consequence now: I went into a coffee bar, leafed through a few international journals at a booth, lingered a few windows no other purpose than to lose myself in a neutral, listened mechanically few conversations without interest, spent without reason from one street to another. I finished and found me in front of the Museum of Eros Beate Uwe where two posters announcing an exhibition of erotic objects: first, a young woman dressed very strict, very tight gray suit, turtleneck sweater, small oval glasses, showed, to a splendid male students ivory dildo, the second symmetrical, a young man, also held gray and strict, even turtlenecks, same oval glasses, showed some teenagers a chastity belt. I looked carefully to the man of the poster. Without a doubt, it was Saint-Loup.
Rockport Ladies Sandals
Posters
As if I had already decided what I should do, I still took the subway: Friedrichstrasse station, closest to the hotel where I Aldon-down during my stay in Berlin. For the Europa Center then I should take one of several routes to the west who would bring in the Tiergarten: I took an eastward. I knew I had time, and although this decision is irrational, I could not help wanting to go to Alexanderplatz where there was now one hundred days, I found Saint-Loup.
When the train reached the station, I left the train, walked to the precise location of the corridors where I first found: a metal bench set under a large poster advertising. I remembered, because it so contrasted with the attitude of Saint-Loup collapsed on the seat, on April 11 that the poster was an advertisement Kookai yellow background representing a woman's foot with nail varnish were green by a hand holding a fine brush while, caught between his fingers, four men dressed in white t-shirt trying to free himself. Of course, this was not the same: this time, a man from behind, young naked buttocks underscored by a wave draped labeled "Frieder Russmann, 2005, head turned to the right, shaved head, loop the left ear, thin goatee and pointed to the East with engraved knife in the center of each of the two major back muscles, the numbers 24 and 25 boxes, he checked a bloody cross again. Below the photo, a frame with a yellow background with a Swiss Army knife out of the open enrollment "Russmann spielt Lotto." The bench was empty.
I still could not bring myself to leave the premises immediately: I shot the huge station, finding nothing, I went out for a coffee at one of the stalls of one of the stores Alexanderplatz. Beside the bar, a shop of a local photographer with some few of his shots. I threw a glance mechanical ... One of them, a smiling couple, gazing into the eyes: Saint-Loup and Zita
As if I had already decided what I should do, I still took the subway: Friedrichstrasse station, closest to the hotel where I Aldon-down during my stay in Berlin. For the Europa Center then I should take one of several routes to the west who would bring in the Tiergarten: I took an eastward. I knew I had time, and although this decision is irrational, I could not help wanting to go to Alexanderplatz where there was now one hundred days, I found Saint-Loup.
When the train reached the station, I left the train, walked to the precise location of the corridors where I first found: a metal bench set under a large poster advertising. I remembered, because it so contrasted with the attitude of Saint-Loup collapsed on the seat, on April 11 that the poster was an advertisement Kookai yellow background representing a woman's foot with nail varnish were green by a hand holding a fine brush while, caught between his fingers, four men dressed in white t-shirt trying to free himself. Of course, this was not the same: this time, a man from behind, young naked buttocks underscored by a wave draped labeled "Frieder Russmann, 2005, head turned to the right, shaved head, loop the left ear, thin goatee and pointed to the East with engraved knife in the center of each of the two major back muscles, the numbers 24 and 25 boxes, he checked a bloody cross again. Below the photo, a frame with a yellow background with a Swiss Army knife out of the open enrollment "Russmann spielt Lotto." The bench was empty.
I still could not bring myself to leave the premises immediately: I shot the huge station, finding nothing, I went out for a coffee at one of the stalls of one of the stores Alexanderplatz. Beside the bar, a shop of a local photographer with some few of his shots. I threw a glance mechanical ... One of them, a smiling couple, gazing into the eyes: Saint-Loup and Zita
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)