are on the table, candles, imBackofen fresh, crusty rolls that exude the wonderful aroma of a bakery, often there is also a croissant and pretzels on the table or a cup of hot coffee. Cherry and raspberry jam are lined up next to the honey and chocolate, different kinds of meat, a tasty sausages, some cheese, a (washed tomato), fresh milk and cocoa, on the breakfast board an egg cup with a soft-boiled egg. . . from the living room soft music swells in the kitchen. . . No, it is not Sunday. . . it's just a normal morning, 06:30 in front of you sits a freshly-shaven and well-kept man who smiles at you and asks you, while he cuts open to you if you lack a hot roll or something. . . you smile back fondly we enjoy the few minutes before we shared tears of public transport and the daily work of our little luck. . . a few meters to the subway and then 2 stops by bus. . . there you go
CUT. . . Change of scene. . .
It is 5:45 sings his song as Eros Ramazottis L 'Aurora from my phone. A nice Alarm clock. As fog dissolve the last confused dreams disappear into nothing and it is to get up at the time. A hand reaches for me, unfortunately without intent, it notes only that I must have sweated in the night again. The morning is just as dark as the flat and bare feet I tap on the bottom of ice-cold, half-blind to the bathroom. Some music from my phone quietly, quacks like a good thing that it is Internet radio. I wash my hair and actually find a single towel. From the toothpaste tube is able to squeeze me with extreme force a last effort, pea-sized residue. should indeed be a new one somewhere, I remember. . . a cursory Blick in den Drehschrank. Fehlanzeige . . .
Mein Weg führt mich wieder zurück ins Schlafzimmer, zu Dir ans Bett, mit dem Gedanken im Kopf, dir beim ausziehen vom Nachthemd zu helfen und dann mit meinen warmen Händen deine großen *piep* zu *pieeep* . . . . Mmh? . . . Du klingst erkältet, dann wohl doch keine guter Moment, um zu kuscheln oder Fieber zu messen . . . Ich mache das Bett und tapse in die Küche. Sie ist kalt und leer. Gähenende Leere im Brotkorb und das fahle Licht der Dunstabzugshaube beleuchtet schwach die ebenfalls leere Arbeitsplatte. Ich schaue im Froster nach und nehme ein tiefgefrorenes Roggenbrot heraus, was eindeutig Ähnlichkeit mit einem Ziegelstein hat. With difficulty I break off a few slices and stuff it in the toaster, which then gives off a little heat. In the fridge I discovered next to an expired cottage cheese, which you can eat but still, some sausage, plenty of cheese and 2 slices fresh bread, which I had brought along as a precaution in order to eat on the work of something. I grab another abundant bananas to brown and the rest of tomato salad from last night. At noon, the rich probably grade I think, as I store everything in my gym bag.
As the rye bread steaming jumps from the toaster, I distribute the raspberry jam on which I had also brought a few days ago. A little appetite Mümmel I on the bread around but the sugar in the jam and cocoa, which I've been hot in a small pot so that it stops me shiver, will hopefully bring the think tank on my shoulders going.
you come into the kitchen,'ll cut 2 slices from a cake, is connected to almost silently into the living room and begin to immerse the cake in your cold cocoa. I sit down to do so. . . On television we see as a zookeeper feeds a penguin, then news, a 16-year-old has been hit by a freight train, dead. . . Nick goes to Spongebob. . . for a few minutes, the sad thoughts of the fly dead teenager, this sponge and his starfish and the demented Tentakelviech succeed to make me laugh. . . but only briefly, I want you to not stress so. . . and turn around again. A few more minutes of music from VIVA and MTV. . . Then it's off to the cold gray November morning. . . freeze at the bus stop freezing, at the station while we wait for the crowded Regiozug freeze at the central station comes to the Schlenkibus let me happily tilts at my company. . .
2 acres in Berlin. . . Once in Berlin Lichterfelde and once in Berlin Wilmersdorf. . .
CUT. . . Change of scene. . .
It is 5:45 sings his song as Eros Ramazottis L 'Aurora from my phone. A nice Alarm clock. As fog dissolve the last confused dreams disappear into nothing and it is to get up at the time. A hand reaches for me, unfortunately without intent, it notes only that I must have sweated in the night again. The morning is just as dark as the flat and bare feet I tap on the bottom of ice-cold, half-blind to the bathroom. Some music from my phone quietly, quacks like a good thing that it is Internet radio. I wash my hair and actually find a single towel. From the toothpaste tube is able to squeeze me with extreme force a last effort, pea-sized residue. should indeed be a new one somewhere, I remember. . . a cursory Blick in den Drehschrank. Fehlanzeige . . .
Mein Weg führt mich wieder zurück ins Schlafzimmer, zu Dir ans Bett, mit dem Gedanken im Kopf, dir beim ausziehen vom Nachthemd zu helfen und dann mit meinen warmen Händen deine großen *piep* zu *pieeep* . . . . Mmh? . . . Du klingst erkältet, dann wohl doch keine guter Moment, um zu kuscheln oder Fieber zu messen . . . Ich mache das Bett und tapse in die Küche. Sie ist kalt und leer. Gähenende Leere im Brotkorb und das fahle Licht der Dunstabzugshaube beleuchtet schwach die ebenfalls leere Arbeitsplatte. Ich schaue im Froster nach und nehme ein tiefgefrorenes Roggenbrot heraus, was eindeutig Ähnlichkeit mit einem Ziegelstein hat. With difficulty I break off a few slices and stuff it in the toaster, which then gives off a little heat. In the fridge I discovered next to an expired cottage cheese, which you can eat but still, some sausage, plenty of cheese and 2 slices fresh bread, which I had brought along as a precaution in order to eat on the work of something. I grab another abundant bananas to brown and the rest of tomato salad from last night. At noon, the rich probably grade I think, as I store everything in my gym bag.
As the rye bread steaming jumps from the toaster, I distribute the raspberry jam on which I had also brought a few days ago. A little appetite Mümmel I on the bread around but the sugar in the jam and cocoa, which I've been hot in a small pot so that it stops me shiver, will hopefully bring the think tank on my shoulders going.
you come into the kitchen,'ll cut 2 slices from a cake, is connected to almost silently into the living room and begin to immerse the cake in your cold cocoa. I sit down to do so. . . On television we see as a zookeeper feeds a penguin, then news, a 16-year-old has been hit by a freight train, dead. . . Nick goes to Spongebob. . . for a few minutes, the sad thoughts of the fly dead teenager, this sponge and his starfish and the demented Tentakelviech succeed to make me laugh. . . but only briefly, I want you to not stress so. . . and turn around again. A few more minutes of music from VIVA and MTV. . . Then it's off to the cold gray November morning. . . freeze at the bus stop freezing, at the station while we wait for the crowded Regiozug freeze at the central station comes to the Schlenkibus let me happily tilts at my company. . .
2 acres in Berlin. . . Once in Berlin Lichterfelde and once in Berlin Wilmersdorf. . .
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