Sonnenstudium

Je hais les dimanches, but daylight savings last Sunday provided for an hour less day and an hour more sun. Monday was l’Annonciation, when Marie gave her fiat, c’est-à-dire son “oui” libre, sans contrainte ni réserve, a text tantamount to sex, for in nine months’ time the Son was born (Romain, I’m sure, views his Fiat in similar terms). True or false: if Marwan provided this exigesis for his Catholic girlfriend, who is named Marie, she would realize that the prohibition of premarital sex is not necessarily catholic, and she can make an exception. Answer: True, because Marwan is Actually a God.

I'm in Berlin now, pursuing my career as a digital performance artist (literally), i.e. constructing my identity on the internet until my digits bleed. I cooked dinner for Jamie and Chris while they swilled red wine and discussed mediation, gender roles, how godlessness will get you nowhere and other Stuff Aristocratic Liberals Like. They've gone off drinking and won't be back until late capitalism. My interactions with Thorsten, the landlord, have been limited but rich.

Thorsten (breathing heavily behind me): Hallo!!
Me (turning quickly as fear turns to joy): Oh...hi!
Thorsten (toothy): Hi!
Me: So...lot of rain, huh? I'm trying to be positive, but...I could really use a trip to the Sonnenstudio.
Thorsten: Ja! Sky like porridge!
The Girlfriend: Hallo, I'm The Girlfriend, Dogma. Do You have everything for Your comfort?

Unclear whether she meant "I'm Thorsten's girlfriend, my name is Dogma," or "I am The Girlfriend, not just a girlfriend. I'm no positivist...I'm the girlfriend: [this is] dogma"...we could have sworn her name was Teresa.

I guess I should profiter de Berlin, but it just makes me miss the Hohepunkte and Cocktails-To-Go I enjoyed that summer with kleine Hannah...during my days I just follow the wall, fall into a daze and hear, italicized, in my head, nostalgie, ostalgie, faux-stalgie, ho-stalgie, lost-algie...