Wyclef Jean feat Mary J Blige – 911 von Tettori
.
December 21st 2000, 12.30 p.m.
It’s fucking cold, too cold to kill the time outside. Residing in coffee shops is absolutely necessary. The new shoes are dressy indeed, but not suitable for such a cold.
It’s also something of that sort. I want my blue pumps back. Norbert had to squeeze into, and now they’re definitely too large.
He was laughing and said: “Impossible! I’ve got tiny little feet!”
But I can’t swallow this. There were too many things like this. The Walkman, the CD-player, my camera, the glass-table, money…
He’s living from hand to mouth. I wonder if he’s got any idea of how short the period since Halloween was? And how much got broken since then?
Yesterday I saw him from the distance. I was with Maria and Rudi. However they didn’t know about our recent situation. I also perceived from the distance that he was sober and he wished the ground would have opened and swallowed him up.
Then Maria walked up to him, and they vanished into the station building. Of course I seized the opportunity and went home for a shower.
.
.
Then I was sitting in the Kö-Galerie and filled in the physics work sheet and sent back the answer card. Good to know this fail-safe now, cause the rest is to be due not until the new year. In Ottobrunn I’ll surely have my peace to do this.
Then it was cold and boring and I went to Erol’s place much earlier. Also because I was curious, if Norbert nailed it to appear in Café Ko La on guy’s day.
But Erol didn’t go to Café Ko La. Um.
There was a co-worker, sorta, at his home, and I was finished anyway and went to bed early.
Just this minute Gypsy-Jupp entered Burger King. He split up with his wife and now he’s living in the homeless shelter near Flingern station. He claims, he’s fed up with her, she’s bitching all up. I guess, it’s exactly the other way round.
But it ain’t that easy. Erol allows himself to be talked over by Lotta, tonight she wants to sleep there too.
Jealousy trip.
But I also fell asleep crying. This helpless, desperately unhappy face of Norbert hurts me.
Nah, I don’t wanna think about it.
Maybe there will be a miracle, on Three Kings Day, when I’ll come back, then he will have got the place in the living community or he’ll join the methadone-program, and the heap of shards and the mountain of guns will be gone.
But I fear, this is just a dream.
Well, now I’ll make a move, get my finances checked, then to Café Ko La to find out what Norbert is doing or not, then I can look for someone to come with me to help me with packing and carrying the box with my journals and the luggage.
.
.
December 22nd 2000, 11.15 a.m.
I’m at Burger King. Again. That’s not to say I love this joint. But the coffee is quite cheap.
Waiting.
It’s too cold outside. About 28° F.
At two p.m. Nicole wants to come home with me for packing. Yesterday I asked thousands of people, they’re all cowards, they don’t wanna mess with Norbert. Super. Only Nicole said, she’ll help me.
She says, she knows him long enough, he won’t harm her, he will wait till he’s alone with me.
But if she’ll be there at two, is the other question.
She says, out there she’s listening to stupid jealousy operas of Norbert and Lotta by turns.
I’m sleeping at Erol’s place now, because it’s the only place where I can go, there’s the trick. Just because all the others are so incredible losers, jabber-boxes and cowards. Uwe got a black mark for this too.
It’s a one way ticket to a madman’s situation… play back on MTV here at Burger King, perfect match (I like the song, but don’t ask me for it’s name.)
.
.
Time. Time is out of order. Cold hours that drag on like chewing gum, blinding blue sky and cutting wind, I have to string together single minutes, and then at two adrenaline rush, and if possible somehow take a shower in Café Ko La, what I look like, my facial skin like leather from the cold, didn’t wash for days, and who knows what will be missing then, and finally tomorrow the horror-train, standing place all the way to Munich?
At Erol’s it’s getting colder and colder, the heater doesn’t work, the blankets are much too thin. We spent the night cuddled up, otherwise you’re freezing to death. But with the blankets between us, and I was crawling into the duvet cover, cause the dog’s hairs were itching all over my body. I don’t even have pajama pants with me.
Well, we were talking about sex. But we’re keeping to no. We can’t tell everywhere there’s nothing, and then after all…
That’s alright, we’ve got enough problems, emotional chaos, heartache… then a guilty conscience on top? No.
But there’s another point. He has to go to jail yet again. And then I will feel all alone and forsaken. Reason tells, I don’t wanna get involved emotionally.
I told him already, I can’t bear another period frequenting jail, caring and doing and stuff. Not after Norbert disappointing me that much.
.
.
Anyway, where has he got to? Yesterday he crossed my way at Worringer Platz. He was acting as if he didn’t see me. Erol was standing in front of Café Ko La – so he didn’t come from this direction. Again hunting coke? Or did he sleep at Tyson’s place?
I went home when it became dark. There was no light burning in my room. But who knows, I thought, maybe he just had a hit and is sleeping now? So I only took the new sheets out of the post-box and went off.
I hope Nicole will be there at two.
Maybe he just vanished till I’m off for vacation and will get his stuff later. Or will he now join that trip to Dresden for kicking off?
I don’t know.
It only hurts.
To top it all I surely will have to justify myself on Christmas. Mom will bombard me with questions and she knows everything better. For her all guys are villains anyway.
Tabitha is in her stupid film. I’d like to shout at her: “Fucking film! Come back to earth!” But she’s pregnant and you can only handle her with kid gloves.
Actually nonsense.
She’s pregnant, not sick.
Anyway, both did their bits to this heap of shards here. I’m really pissed off of both. And now I’m gonna spend the holidays with them of all people.
In between there are wicked attacks of longing for Norbert.
But I have the feeling, even if everything else would be fine again, we destroyed all about sex, that’s broken and can’t be fixed again. But I wanna stay friends. And I wish him to get well again.
Erol went home to see his Dad. To have a few bucks in his pocket on Christmas at least. His Christmas will be cold and lonely anyway.
Tonight it will be my last night sleeping at his place. Tomorrow morning I’d like best to break up at 5 a.m.
Now let me finish this cigarette and drink the cold rest of my second cup of coffee and then go out and look how much time I got killed yet.
.
Read the full post and comments »



















