Hamburg, Hotel Berlin, December 10, 1995

Bad dream last night: I am sleeping an a bed of zillions of golden letters. As I turn around, the letters stick to my skin. I am not wearing anything. He is rowing by on little boat, looking at me sleeping, he can't see my eyes, they are bleeding. I see everything dipped in deep red, it feels unreal. He passes by in this little slim canoe rowing against the fast flowing stream. There are zillions of birds around him and I whisper: watch the birds. I am bleeding out of every pore and feel extremely hot. A light green dog comes by and leeks my blood he starts to cough up the golden pieces, but sill continues to drink my liquids. Although I am a bit disgusted it makes me feel better--if the blood would dry it would close my pores and I wouldn't be able to breath anymore, I realize. A voice that I trust whispers without being near that I should get up and try to move on, in any case I should not sleep. I think it is impossible. Suddenly although I menage to roll myself into the water, which feels like icy and oily milk. The water gets purple were I am swimming. He is there and I move in direction to his boat. I see myself lying on the top of the tip of the canoe and starring into the sky. I wear his shirt, which is white and cool and we are just floating on the water. A whole crowd is appearing shouting: the line broke, we don't get any connection, we need an ISDN card. I am shouting but my voice doesn't work: "I can't, you have to try to move on by phone, I am blood"...