Update for Sept.

It was 2AM. I was still awake, after doing all the dishes and laundries, I wonder what was wrong with my go-to-sleep-part of my brain.

The winter is almost officially here. The leaves fell before they changed color. So here goes my fall foliage dream.

I woke up at 6AM yesterday and decided to go to a cafe at 8AM. It was windy but sunny. A man next to me brought his own heavy cream added to his coffee; next door is a bank, someone in suit and ties rushed out the double-door and lit a cigarette. I tried to concentrate on the homework but I simply couldn't, having nothing but the verdict in my mind (To the court: You're so natural - religiously unkind) I started to wonder if the mail was lost somewhere between Schöneberg and Neukölln.

4:10PM. I finished the class and dialed his number. Both of his cell phones were off and his co-worker didn't know where he was. I called the flat.

"What is going on?"
"I am a bit upset." I could smell the ethanol through the telephone.
"I am going to the metro now."

I opened the door, he sat in front of TV with a bottle of Ballantine's. It was half empty. We went into the kitchen and I poured myself a serving. He looked at my glass:"I am not a good example."
"No, you are not."
"How was school?"
"Good. I called the office, L. told me that you weren't there."
"Maybe you and him should talk, he is my friend, and it'd be nice if you guys can get along."
"There is nothing to talk about. I don't hate him anymore. What happened that night in April was so fucked up. I packed my suitcase and the only reason why I am still here today was because my French bank account got blocked and I had no way to buy a train ticket."
"I can only say that I am sorry. I am better now, am I not?"
"So, tell me what happened if you want."
"I had a fight with G. I am not sure what got into him, it was not the first time. So I took my pizza to-go and left in the middle of our conversation."
"Eh-huh."
"And thanks for helping me financially, I really appreciate that."
"Sure."
"I am going to the bathroom, be right back."

I poured the rest of the Ballantine's down the drain.

I laid awake all night, counting the minutes left until my next INS appointment (Monday 29 Sept. at 9AM), the funky part is: they might have a strike that day, and I don't have my verdict. I thought about the vacations I took, friends I used to hang out with, sleeping pills I abused, traffic tickets I received, the shitty jobs I had... all of them seemed so intangible, abstract, transparent. I tossed and turned, tossed and turned.

5:12AM.

"Why are you awake?" he asked.
"I can't sleep."
"Why?"
"I want pancakes."

He made pancakes. We had a gigantic breakfast.

10AM. I walked down the Kottbusserdamm behind my iPod (Sostanza dei giorni miei, Sostanza dei giorni miei) A young woman put her paper cup right under my nose asking for small changes. I made an effort smiled and shook my head. She followed me, shook the cup near my ear, and taped on my arm. I turned with a vexed look:"Sweetheart, you pick the wrong day to piss me off." She suddenly became immobile, like a wax figure in the middle of the street.

Decided to take a break from school after tomorrow. I can't afford it financially and mentally. And yet, having nothing to do depresses me even more.

I should go and take a walk to the Cemetery.