|When I was still in school 1965 I started with my first stereo equipment. This was a sophisticated tape machine
‘Grundig TK 27 L’. The second channel came from a portable radio. Sharing this sad story of suffering I hear this song inside:
‘Music was my first love.’
My first desires to love have been 'girls, girls, girls'. Another song. But 1965 music was easier available. With the next stereo tape and my first own apartment in the wild student days 1968 more and more music enriched my life. Hector Berlioz with his Symphony Fantastic 14 B was my favourite nightmare. The hero in this melodrama complains: ‘Life! To live means suffering for me.’
In these wild days in my age of 20 years I tried to leave my education straight jacket behind, no matter of prize. I was tired of these stone age people, who were always right. My first clandestine drug experiments started with hashish. In the first thrilling nights with a beautiful girl friend these enormous emotional experiments started. Hormones ruled my life. We even tried to make shy nude pictures of these first mysterious, thrilling connections. This time 40 years ago was in no way to compare with today. With four students we have visited the first pornographic exhibition in Copenhagen, capital of Denmark. In those old days this exhibition was felt as revolution against tradition, education, church and religion.
|Since these first meetings with girls I could never live without a woman
anymore. Otherwise I could not stand the suffering. 40 years later time overthrew the dictatorship of hormones.
More than 30 years I have lived with women by my side. Now it would be hard to live without my woman Mimamai.
Sunday two weeks ago my Mimamai has conducted her mothers friend Leni on her death bed. The last 10 years Mimamai has helped this woman here, born in Munich 1909. My daughter immediately has build up an emotional bridge to this Old Lady Leni and walked in her heart. I couldn’t do this. Mima returned many times from her work for this Old Lady burdened with sorrows, stress and quarrels. In the beginning I tried once, to talk to old Leni. But it was useless to argue. These stone age people are always right.
This week end we have rented a trailer, to bring furniture of this ancient household to Mima’s brothers and sister in Bamberg. Mima kept a table only for her candles. Returned home we listen to the young woman Maren from Berlin on our answering machine. I have promised to visit her.
|Next week end we have to visit my old mother again. The judge has to decide, if and how I have to take care of all her things, she can’t arrange anymore. Her 97 years old friend from her youth days in Gdansk and in and after World War has created immense quarrelling troubles for my brother and me. But it is useless to argue.
These stone age people are always right. Therefore the judge has to decide now, how I can care for my Old Mother.
14 days from now we have to bring my daughter home from her 40 fasting days in a relaxed place of peace. Maybe Mima and I can enjoy after these three week end journeys a short period of holydays, before she starts her summer job again in a little hut to sell asparagus and summer fruits.
Other life connections in Munich are broken. Michael Munich Master of Nastiness shows up again under some sort of sannyas label ‘JivanNemo’. Michael calls Thomas, to save his energy for the German sannyas-forum.de. There Michael enjoys his fantasies for political friends, who always need an enemy outside:
‘’ Jivano 15.03.2007 22:55: Das soll Freundschaft sein? Seit einem Jahr trete ich ihm in den Arsch und
verbiete ihm, meine Texte zu kopieren, damit er endlich mal mit seinen eigenen Talenten rauskommt. Aber ihr drei Flaschen habt nichts Anderes
im Kopf als zu lügen und euch gegenseitig zu "helfen", negative Intelligenz-
Quotienten zu erreichen. Wenn ihr Säufer wärt, würdet ihr euren "Freunden"
auch noch die Flasche an den Mund führen.
|But I’m too busy to complete Michael’s word archive in the file area on an U.S. Yahoo Server – out of reach for his CopyWrong claims. Michael’s fantasies are funny to read, but in reality he still is not able to pay back the
money. I paid in December his service as provider for one year and could use one month only. I don’t talk anymore with him:
These stone age people are always right.
I like to listen to Thomas on Skype. I prefer to arrange my thoughts somehow by writing.
Maybe I’ll visit the young woman Maren in Berlin later in the year, when she still wants my visit and Mimamai works at her week ends. More and more these desires fade away. Time finishes the dictatorship of hormones and quarrels. I love to listen to my thoughts in silence and know: These stone age people are always right.
When my longing to serve and to please others like myself is gone, I feel happy to be left alone – after a hard day’s night in her or in my arms.
Something else new? Ahh: Sheela talks again. Shall I listen to her sermons, when I stopped listening to most Satsang sermons? Any expectations? These stone age people are always right.