October 3, 2005
Sights For Folly Done and Said, Twist Our Narrow Days, But I Must Bless, Must Praise [...] (W.H. Auden)
But let's go back to return (again).
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the sun;
For nothing now can come to any good.
W.H. Auden
Were did I stop?
The flight was pleasant, the line-ups a Heathrow long enough to leave only a little time for a coffee, before British Midlands lifted off again to carry me the rest of the way across the North Sea. The reunion of parents and son was heartwarmingly short and topped with Greek food. It felt like any Christmas vacation. The absence had not had a chance to sink in.
Two days of laundry, to days of organizing. And the first windmills to fight. In contrast to Miguel Cervantes' imagined windmills were the ones I faced less imaginary, but imposing nonetheless. German bureaucracy has become a metaphor for what I was to face. I spent three and a half hours at the local human resources office trying to apply for unemployment insurance I was told that I would have to do that at the one in O., which is still my official place of residence.
Onehundredthirty-two kilometers west the next day. After queuing up again for just four hours and beindg able to speak to an agent for seven and a half minutes, I had a printout of the exact same forms I had gotten and filled ut the day before and an appointment to hand these forms in in three weeks. Medical works along similar lines. As soon a I get a document stating my official unemployment elligibility can I sign upon for medical. Unemployment will then pay for my medical starting the day I returned. I am just unable to claim anything untill then nor am I officially insured. Ironic. And try to sign up for internet in this country.
However, I was to move into the small bedroom in my old apartment giving Clemens a day notice. He was sweet, had moved some of my furniture ito the room, had put up prints an pictures to make me feel at home. And we spent an evening catching up. Our history still stands between us. And I am unwilling to talk for now.
My body is still adjusting; still hoovering in the state inbetween. My slepping patterns vary, but stop at 5 am CET every morning. The addition of carbs into my dietary habits gives me an energy boost that makes me jumpy. I fail to concentrate on writing and reading. But for now I cherish the state inbetween. Reality will soon kick in again.
For anyone interested ...
... the rest of the apartment
... and autumnal impressions culturally entrenched by
Herr, es ist Zeit [...]
Thanks Shawna *lol*
| LOOK OUT! ïòð |
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From Go-Quiz.com
October 2, 2005
The things he feared
So the prodigal returns. Or not, for something inside of me still refuses to accept. I am sorry for all conversations that stopped short last week. I have been unable to secure sufficient means of communication so far and--at the same time--been preoccupied with the creation of a place to squat and moan. This is the view I get:
But let's go back to return.
"Belonging is a Map to the Door of no Return."
Dionne Brand
"One cannot read without opening oneself to the desire of language, to the search for that which remains absent and other than oneself. Without a certain love of the text, no reading would be possible. In every reading there is a corps-à-corps between reader and text, an incorporation of the reader's desire of the text.
Jacques Derrida
The flight was pleasant, the line-ups a Heathrow long enough to leave only a little time for a coffee, before British Midlands lifted off again to carry me the rest of the way across the North Sea. The reunion of parents and son was heartwarmingly short and topped with Greek food. It felt like any Christmas vacation. The absence had not had a chance to sink in.
2 days of laundry, to days of organizing. And the first windmills to fight. In contrast to Miguel Cervantes' imagined windmills were the ones I faced less imaginary, but imposing nonetheless. German bureaucracy has become a metophor for what I was to face. I spent three and a half hours at the local human resources office trying to file for unemployment insurance I was told that I would have to do that at the one in O., which is still my official place of residence. [continued tonight]