Death at the Desk

Let's frankly admit

all wish-wash is ....

What to say, what to write? Dead means gone, never comes back. Memories remain the way we want. What we want is not what we need. What we need is not what we want. Life hammers her truth on our stubbornness we want to keep our lies. We are you and me.

Thomas and I wanted to be Ka's best friends. But Ka didn't want people like us as friends. His friend Helga has found him, his friend Jutta I had to tell the terrific truth on the phone: 'He is dead!' We cried.

My tears have changed to rage sometimes. Bavarian winters are not easy to survive - cold and wet, dark, grey, snow, slippery roads, grumpy people. So it's a joke: 'We will bring you through next winter again.' But not Ka! He simply left, when this weird winter was gone. Ka didn't care for another spring - not for a new spring with the same old idiots like you and me!

How many times I have tried to bring Ka out of his toilet, his poor apartment in the last floor under a flat roof - boiling heat in the summer, in the winter Ka at his desk, in his bed or in his bath tub.

Six articles Ka wrote for the PC Magazin, where I work as editor since 18 years. Ka needed money 2006, so he started to write these sophisticated AJAX programmer articles. Ka was an expert for Computers all his life.

His articles came in a rough form, but I loved to bring them into printable quality. End 2006 I was missing an article. When I reached him finally at the phone, Ka confessed another week in hospital, the third time since our first meeting 1999. This time the diagnosis was the worst: diabetes.

Memories remain the way we want.

In what foolish way this wise man lived! Watching the flowers in spring again, listening to horny birds rage is coming up: 'Ka! You fool! For everybody you cared better than for yourself! And you wonder that no one wanted to listen to your wisdom? Ka, was your teaching about to die? We are not yet ready! Ka, every idiot knows, myself too, it's better to stay stupid half alive than wise full dead!'

Painful tears mix with bitter rage inside. Now some of these friends, Ka met in his last months, want to read his words. Still there are more than 600 letters left from his last group 'nopath'.

Now many people care about Ka's words, who never cared before anything else than themselves! Isn't it true? But the ones who cared about his words did we listen?

His last private letters with harsh attacks I have deleted. I answered him with a post card from my March journey to Czech: 'I invite you for a week end trip in these wonderful Czech spa bathes. That's so healing and helpful!'

An answer came one week later on the phone by his friend Helga under shock with tears: 'Ka is dead. He lies in his bed and is dead!'

Another bell I heard in the background. Helga hung up and told: 'Police is coming. There has to be a more exact examination.'

Other friends reported, Ka was lying peaceful in bed. On the screen beside his bed there should still stand a web site open about heart problems. I'm not the type of man to believe anything else that my own eyes have seen. Now Ka is dead and the funeral will come, when his corpse is free to bury.

Ka on his 60th birthday January 2005

Who will pay for this last service? His friend told me a story from the last week of his life with Helga. Ka told her: 'The taxes want 13.000 Euros from me!' I repeat in words: thirteen thousands!

Helga and I, some people know Ka's financial situation. So a friend has reported: Ka and Helga laughed about 10 minutes about this joke! 'The taxes want 13.000 Euros from me!'

When Ka told me end of 2006 about his diabetes, I knew somehow, there is not much help anymore. How many times he had told me: 'I need to loose weight, I need to change my food, I need to move my body.' I have stopped to invite him for sauna bath training hours. 'I'm so fat, I feel ashamed to sit naked in the sauna with all my fat....' That was Ka's way to argue, when he didn't want to leave his toilet, his home!

In public he played the Zen Master, in his toilet at home his body was more and more sick, rotten, now death! Rage is coming up about his farts of wisdom left in some byte baits in the web! I would prefer his shouting roars on my stubbornness in a Greek restaurant, till the host threatened us to throw us out the pub!

Thanks for these super teachers like Socrates, Bhagwan, Ka, Gurdjieff, Jesus and more! Leave me alone from these spammers, calling themselves 'followers' of these wise ones!

At least I was never Ka's follower, I wanted a friend. Only a man alive can be a friend, what use of a dead one? Hasn't life enough tears every day?

Ka simply dies and leaves us alone with our quarrelling minds inside outside! Ka's last attack for idiots like us!

Mimamai and I visit my old mom, her old father. These old ones are 87 and 82 years old. These old ones die in a non provocative, ordinary way day by day.

These old ones die in a non provocative,...

...ordinary way day by day.

At each visit my old mom tries with her more and more reduced energy to walk half an hour around with us. Ka didn't leave his toilet home much.

My last meeting at the beginning of 2008 he accidentally had to get a book from the store in the middle of town. So I could invite him a last time. I have avoided each controversy otherwise he would have gone mad immediately. So I played the peaceful one. We had some wonderful enriching hours. That has been the last time.

In the last call conference with Thomas in Hamburg Ka shouted for nearly 10 minutes: 'SHUT UP!' Thomas continued his blablabla, Ka shouted again and again: 'YOU IDIOT SHUT UP KEEP YOUR IDIOT MOUTH CLOSED!'

How connected we all are! This report is written in Mima's Sea Cow, her VW-Bus. She drives home to Munich from Dortmund, my mother, to Bamberg, her father. Thomas feels the mystical connection and just calls me up this very moment!

This report is written in Mima's Sea Cow, her VW-Bus.

But beside this deep mystical connection Ka had the qualities to write the roots of our actions! And Ka had such a deep devine device that Ka didn't care anymore for such secondary things like his body.

Ka simply gave his teachings the fullest flowering possible. Ka had experienced for at minimum for his last ten years that nobody was ready to listen.

And why listen to somebody, who doesn't listen to anyone else than his divine device inside? Every idiot like you and me wants to advertise her foolish stink of personal greed, gain and sell this stink as 'ultimate enlightened truth of deep channelled meditation'!

Ka couldn't stay our stink any longer took his last breath, heard his heart muscle weaker and weaker a last bum, bum, bum.... and finished!

We go on stinking and sinking! Good luck, good laughter - terrific tears in the tunnel ahead, when we get older and colder in the deep darkness of soul!

We go on stinking and sinking!
(n0by with his 87 years old Mom 04-12-2008)