dolla $ign V.
Kristian
today is wednesday october 12, 2022. actually, i didn’t want to write anything because i’m turning into a cult leader. you’re all off my @ss. but yesterday i heard the voices of two virgins saying that whoever can’t stand milk won’t go to heaven. and that was strange for me because it corresponds to the truth, according to the statements of god, whose voice i hear when everything is quiet, the virgins of god live in the land where milk and honey flow. and i don’t like that virgins hear so much out of my drunken writing.
anyway, today i went to see my psychologist dr bliss. and the first thing i did, i pulled out my health insurance credit card and gave it to dr bliss. the new quarter has started and she wanted to settle her 2000 dollar therapy costs. i pull out the same health credit card when i go to the pharmacy for my 1000 dollar a month medication and only pay 15 dollars. every resident of germany gets this health credit card at birth. free of charge. more or less. then i sat down in her room leaning backwards with my arms folded behind my head and told her about my walks, my teleportation jumps while walking (i walk, lose myself in thoughts and lift my eyes and suddenly i have covered a huge distance), i heave my 300 pound body weight on my tiptoes up my three floors to my apartment with ease. i take big steps, which according to my iphone speaks for my stamina when walking and for strong muscles, even though i only walk 3 miles per hour. and yes dr bliss it fills me with a great sense of happiness when i see the mentally ill on tiktok in the psychiatric ward, and then think of me, who was in the ward once in 17 years. and yes dr bliss, i saw a video from the 70’s when the youth fled from home for lack of activities in the apartment and i compare that to today where i think a home studio, streaming cinema, streaming console, tiktok, and interactivity on ccmixter with french people, with californians and all kinds of people which makes me not leave my apartment because i have my mini pc, my tablet and my cell phone. and yes eva kathrin that reminds me of a futurologist’s vision of the future from the beginning of the 90s that i read when i was 13.
the futurologist said cocooning is the future in her report.
but that was a long time ago.
and despite all this information, i think dr bliss is not happy with me. she is friendly but the more time goes by and i talk leaning back with my arms crossed behind my head, the shorter her answers become.
and my god, exactly whose voice i hear as in the tiktok of the muslim girl in the silence of my mind says:
she is dissatisfied, she wants to hear something from me. she wants to hear something from denise reso or kerstin ricker.
and i, who now already diligently drinks the other divine nectar red wine, think to myself, yes dr bliss wants to hear something from the goddess of love.
but it’s been like this for one and a half years now. except for my few hints once a year, she doesn’t get to hear anything. not because i don’t want to, but because i don’t like to. if she would at least read my page on ccmixter and jamendo.
and so i left her in her small room with laptop, the homely ambience and the rattling air freshener (insane people don’t wash themselves. i rarely do either, but tomcats don’t stink) and she will listen to the howling of the other patients with her slowly growing belly.
anyway, today i went to see my psychologist dr bliss. and the first thing i did, i pulled out my health insurance credit card and gave it to dr bliss. the new quarter has started and she wanted to settle her 2000 dollar therapy costs. i pull out the same health credit card when i go to the pharmacy for my 1000 dollar a month medication and only pay 15 dollars. every resident of germany gets this health credit card at birth. free of charge. more or less. then i sat down in her room leaning backwards with my arms folded behind my head and told her about my walks, my teleportation jumps while walking (i walk, lose myself in thoughts and lift my eyes and suddenly i have covered a huge distance), i heave my 300 pound body weight on my tiptoes up my three floors to my apartment with ease. i take big steps, which according to my iphone speaks for my stamina when walking and for strong muscles, even though i only walk 3 miles per hour. and yes dr bliss it fills me with a great sense of happiness when i see the mentally ill on tiktok in the psychiatric ward, and then think of me, who was in the ward once in 17 years. and yes dr bliss, i saw a video from the 70’s when the youth fled from home for lack of activities in the apartment and i compare that to today where i think a home studio, streaming cinema, streaming console, tiktok, and interactivity on ccmixter with french people, with californians and all kinds of people which makes me not leave my apartment because i have my mini pc, my tablet and my cell phone. and yes eva kathrin that reminds me of a futurologist’s vision of the future from the beginning of the 90s that i read when i was 13.
the futurologist said cocooning is the future in her report.
but that was a long time ago.
and despite all this information, i think dr bliss is not happy with me. she is friendly but the more time goes by and i talk leaning back with my arms crossed behind my head, the shorter her answers become.
and my god, exactly whose voice i hear as in the tiktok of the muslim girl in the silence of my mind says:
she is dissatisfied, she wants to hear something from me. she wants to hear something from denise reso or kerstin ricker.
and i, who now already diligently drinks the other divine nectar red wine, think to myself, yes dr bliss wants to hear something from the goddess of love.
but it’s been like this for one and a half years now. except for my few hints once a year, she doesn’t get to hear anything. not because i don’t want to, but because i don’t like to. if she would at least read my page on ccmixter and jamendo.
and so i left her in her small room with laptop, the homely ambience and the rattling air freshener (insane people don’t wash themselves. i rarely do either, but tomcats don’t stink) and she will listen to the howling of the other patients with her slowly growing belly.