tirsdag den 23. august 2011

7th February The 2011th Met as has been tradition on sandwiches restaurant Rolighedsvej. Eggs with shrimp, potato, veterinarian's midnight snack, fish fillet. Good as usual. Could be in Hamburg. Another world. We will apply for a travel grant. See corpses burning in the Ganges. Troels told about the meeting with a man who could travel from place to place in an instant. We need to learn. In the mind there is no time. An incredible machine that glues everything together no matter how much we try to peel it apart. Talking about organ transplantation. It svup it makes when you lift the kidney out of the belly. It was from an article I had read on the train the day before returning to Copenhagen, which we are trying to escape. The city looks more and more themselves. And we move on stamps. And tipping the bike on the way home. There is nothing happened, nothing has happened. And we fall asleep soaked, still with his coat on. Next day, with abrasions on his face, we must find our way back to where we came from, to find our mittens and scarves, our cell phones. We order the milk and sits just staring out at the cars. I was not ready to talk about transplants: The description of the doctors with their glasses with magnifying glass, staring down into the open wounds of their instruments, extended fingers, as they only have the imagination to feel with. Then connect the blood vessels, kidney and changes color from gray to reddish. It's amazing what you can, we mumble and scratch ourselves in his beard. Troels polishes glasses. He did not get a meal with potato, but instead one with roast lamb and it was a mistake, there was cartilage in the dirt. It lies on the edge of the plate and stares dead. It is time to do something, stand up. We have a long road ahead of us, subway stations and cold, clammy streets, to reach today's destination: the Gold Coast on the extreme Copenhagen. There is an old landfill that reviewing a study to conduct, a day to kill. Jugs sizzles as alchemical egg, we see rainbows in the swath from aftershave bottles and eternity whispers in bjørneklofrø which we collect in bags.