I'm in a room and I'm being followed by someone who is threatening me. I collect things he's not allowed to see, stuff crumpled papers into my trouser pocket. I ask women for help to tell me when he's coming. It's very threatening, I stay with a woman.

I made the music for a piece by C. We are in a meeting and she says, crying, that the music wasn't liked. I ask how many people didn't like the music. It seems to have been just one woman. Another woman joins us. C. suddenly takes her clothes off. Does she want to show me her very flat stomach? The other woman is lying on the floor in front of her. They both have a tattoo on their foot. I pull the woman up from the floor. She doesn't let go of my arm. It's close and pleasant. I let her hold me. But I also have to be careful that she doesn't get too close to me. I go to my instruments, which are surrounded by technology. I lift two racks with cables still attached to them. The racks are heavy, someone finally removes the cables. I look through a window and think about how I could change the music.