There is a transparent white carpet covering the grayness of the street I see from the window. Three men are trying to start their car and communicating in a language that I don't understand. Outside the room that I am working in at the moment, he is talking with her after he peed for 66 seconds. Her voice is annoying to hear early. It always sounds very clear and loud in the mornings--brainkillingly bright her good morning clearcuts my morning dreams--, since we are living together. Since almost ten years. Who of us would have thought that we would be together for such a long time.

I used to be pretty attracted by tall blond trashy model type girls with large breasts and long legs. When I met her the first time she was pretty see-through. She appeared in a class entitled "Women's Liberation Movement in China" at the East Asian institute wearing fishnet stockings, hot pants, an orange net made up as skirt, a blue and white striped cellular shirt and an old blue military jacket held together with pins. Her bright blond hair was framed by a little bandage and her tremendously long fishnet legs were stuck in brown boots. That day I didn't get anything about Chinese women's liberation, she sat next to me, had a book that I didn't have and was reading while my eyes continuously fell into her décolleté, showing off under her jacket. She thought I was boring, she didn't even notice me besides this penetrant woman who is trying to make out what she was reading. It was the time when I used to disappear next to birds like her, me a black bird in Mao look clothes.

I don't really know how we became friends, I remember sitting at "Hasir" before it burned down and having Ayrans talking about the Chinese wall and the Antifaschistischer Schutzwall. Then walking around the corner, having drinks at O-bar. I used to feel very much in holidays when I came out here to Kreuzberg. People were sitting in the streets watching television or discussing, having tea and listening to music. The atmosphere was very southern since there were only a few artists, punks and students living here and most people were Turkish. I finally moved into the squatted factory were she already lived, I gave up my flat in Xantenerstrasse and started to have a studio there. It was I think 7 cases that we stuffed in a cab. The driver took a drawing that I made of him during the ride as payment. I remember this being the time when I decided to become an artist and started to sketch people wherever I was. I had very little money and very few things. The wall was still up at that time and from the roof of the factory I could see the soldiers in watch towers watching me watching them. The wall was the most colorful area here and it used to be Sundays when dressed up to go spraypainting playing a Berlin cliché photo target for those bloody tourists who dared to come out here. It used to be a good business, sunny Sundays brought money for the whole week...

Since 6 or seven years we live now together in this flat and were both talking about moving. I sometimes don't know why none of us ever moved. Maybe it's because I traveling 70% of a year in one place and so I think why bother to move. In Berlin I usually am just sleeping in this room here and go early to my studio, were I work. I never see her. Often I stay there overnight. At the moment I am more here since I have to write most of the time, grants, lectures and articles and these letters to my a-dress, I am more often here and took some of my drawing tools and paper which I am doing on the floor. I am still riding the bicycle but to go to the studio is too far without having frozen hands. So I rather save the time to thaw my blood and stay here.

Yesterday we had a big fight, one in the last two years is pretty good, considering the fact though that I am hardly ever here it is a lot. I hate to fight. I should better thaw my blood frozen from the cold. I should take the time and ride back an forth. Since my childhood I am moving my head and not the toothbrush to clean my teeth. It is annoying....