01.02.2024

02.02.2024

I’m supposed to do the music for several short films for F. They already have music as a mood and I play guitar to create a similar sound. I meet A. and B. in a restaurant. I go up to B. to greet her. Several women are at a table with her. She is lying on the floor and tells me that a child has vomited on her daughter. I say that I have to go. A. hands me a bundle of dollar notes. I run the scene from one of the films I’ve been asked to create a soundtrack for. Two people are running up a hill in a forest.

03.02.2024

I meet someone in my old flat in Choriner Strasse. It’s raining outside. I go out onto the balcony. A neighbour is standing on his balcony, I can hear and feel him. I go back inside and aerate the flat before the visitors arrive. I go into the bathroom and hang up my oilskins. I think that a cubic metre is calculated with three axles.

04.02.2024

I cross a bridge with R. I meet my brother and my father. Surprisingly. At first I don’t recognise them, then I give my father a long, tight hug. My wife or girlfriend is there. That surprises me too. We want to make love. I touch her vagina with my fingers. She’s wet but my excitement fades. I would have liked to finish quickly.

I go to the house. It’s locked. I’m afraid I won’t be able to get in, but the kitchen door is unlocked.

C. is sitting in a wheelchair on a running track and filming the children running fast. He is filming professionally. It’s a relay race and one child doesn’t quite touch the next runner. But it doesn’t matter, the race isn’t that important. C. is holding something in his hands to accelerate the wheelchair and films a scene in motion. I see everything from a bird’s eye view.

Then I sit in front of C.‘s laptop. There’s a flat object next to it. At first I think it’s a hard drive, then I recognise a second keyboard. It allows you to execute special commands with key combinations. Some keys are labelled with pictures and are closer or further apart. I ask C. what program he uses to clean up his computer. He tells me the name spelled in two different ways. I make a note of it but won’t use it until after the tour so that I don’t accidentally delete anything now. I’m sitting at a table. Opposite me, a couple are talking. The people to my left and right are talking over me. I slide deeper into my chair. My mother isn’t there.

05.02.2024

I’m standing at a ticket office and we get tickets. I realise that my credit card is gone. My bank card too. We have no more time. C. disappears. I call for her. Nothing. I click through various displays on my watch and see that we have 14 minutes left. The shop assistant knows nothing. I shout for C. again. Nothing. I’m going to the advertising film festival in a suit. Why am I wearing a grey suit and not a black one? I ride in on a bike, but have to push it out again to park it. I then walk through empty corridors and disappear into them. I go to a toilet. Someone calls me. The connection is bad. The person calls and wants to meet me. But he must have called the wrong number. I talk to him calmly and think he should be grateful for this.

Then I’m at the station. I’ve been drinking alcohol. I sat at a table and drank from a wine glass but said it was Coke. I look for my green bag but can’t find it. C. has already left with the children. I see them walk past and knock on the window. I wonder if I should go and look for my bag. I wonder if I’ve left it in a restaurant. It seems unlikely and I have no idea where I might have left it. I wonder if I can go on the planned journey without my wallet. Then suddenly the bag is lying in front of me next to my guitar effects unit. I must be very confused. I write my dream on white plastic bottles from which I peel off the labels. I find it very pleasant to write on them and wonder if I could make paper out of the plastic bottles. Because the bottles are difficult to put down with the other sheets. The stranger calls me again.

06.02.2024

I find myself in a huge old factory building. The floor is made of sand. Old black Molton cloth hangs in front of the high windows. I wonder where I should set up my music. The best corner is where the kitchen is. But that would be inconvenient. I fly across the room up to the windows with the Molton cloths and land in a dark shaft.

07.02.2024

I do maths with D. and explain percentages to him. N. comes and wants to join in. I interrupt her so that she leaves frustrated. I divide by 100 with D. and then multiply by a number. Then we do the same with time, so we divide by 60. I use my mobile phone for this. The calculator app looks strange.

08.02.2024

I’m walking through an elegant hotel. I’m wearing a hat and feel interesting. Outside on the terrace, I look out over the sea, see the glitter of light on the water and mourn my two dead parents. I go back into the hotel and want to buy a golden ring for my first love. I want to pay with cash but only a card payment is possible. I ask to see the ring again because I’m afraid it’s too masculine. But it is delicate with a pattern. I drive to the airport in a small car. I’m afraid I’m too late. I drive fast but don’t get flashed. The cars stop in front of me, I avoid them, can’t brake sufficiently, but manage to avoid a collision. I don’t know the way. The sat nav is very small and positioned far to the right in front of the passenger seat. I can’t read it. Eventually I arrive at the airport. I want to park the car in the underground car park so that I can use it again when I arrive at the airport I’m going to. I walk through the airport with C. and our daughter. I see the stand in front where I bought the ring and fear that the saleswoman will approach C. about it. I hang back a little, relieved that she won’t associate me with my wife. C. sees that I have something in my bag. She says that we have a problem. I say no. I think I might as well buy C. something and bring it to her. I race through the terminal past the gates. The displays are empty. I don’t know where to go. Downstairs I see a crowd of people in front of a display that seems to be working. I have to get to my mother and help her.

I walk into my mother’s flat. It’s tilted 90 degrees. I wonder if I should walk over the walls for fun. The doorbell rings. It takes me a long time to get to the door. My brother arrives. A hoover stands outside. I see that I’ve made a bit of a mess inside.

In the bathroom some tiles need replacing. There’s a large catalogue with examples. Lots of text and photos. Some of me bending over working on a wall. My sweatshirt hangs down like a breast. There are also lots of photos of small breasts. I realise that a friend of my brother took them. They don’t belong in this catalogue. A young architect explains something. There’s a bulge in the wall that needs to be removed before new tiles can be fitted. The architect says it’s caused by gas escaping from the wall. D. rings the doorbell even though he wasn’t supposed to come. He found out that my mother has died. He stands outside the door and explains something.

09.02.2024

I walk up steep roads in Switzerland. The path also leads through an exhibition. People come towards me on narrow steps, complaining that I should let them go first. My mother overtakes me on a very steep section. I come to a field where my mother’s coffin stands. She has died a second time. She has an injury on her forehead. I stroke her hair and tell her that I love her. She is lying at an angle in the coffin, as if she has moved. A woman stands next to me. My mother’s eyes slowly open. She comes to life once more. I think she is coming back for a moment so we can say goodbye. I call my brother to come. His son picks up. Loud music is playing. I tell him it’s urgent. But my brother doesn’t answer. I call a second time and insist. My mother’s eyes blink in disbelief. I’m not sure she’s happy to be alive again. I think she will only live briefly. I say we should put up a big wooden cross here in the field.

10.02.2024

Our flat has another bedroom. It is the actual master bedroom. It’s similar to the bedroom in Menorca. I think we could use the room now. The walls are high and the ceiling is angled. The bed is in the centre, with the desk from Menorca in front of it. A staircase leads downstairs. Wouldn’t it be time to use the room? C. could also use the desk. The room doesn’t have a bathroom. I say I’d like to sleep here.

11.02.2024

We take the boat out. It’s dark. We drive back as if through a tunnel. I’ve accidentally opened something at the front so that water is pouring in through two wooden boards. I want to check our position because I’m worried about a collision. When we get to the end of the tunnel, we drive out exactly where we started. I drive just past the exit. I think we can go on the long crossing now if we want to.

I shout for my mother.

12.02.2024

I’m with my wife. She tells me that I should take the night shift as a security guard. I have to check people out. How am I supposed to do that? It’s going to be cold and I don’t have a sweater. I’m upset. I want to reheat French fries in a kitchen. The gay couple is there. I set off at night, cross a big junction on a red light and arrive at a large building. There are windows all around, lit up with videos from the inside. I want to get a jeep and go into the office of one of the gay couple’s husbands. There are photos of a holiday home on Menorca on the wall. I wonder if I should show one of my underwater films on one of the floors. O. says it wouldn’t be a premiere as the film has already been shown. I ask if it has to be one?

13.02.2024

14.02.2024

My hair is long and slightly covers the cold back of my balding head.