|Friday 6.30 p.m., Noby Dick parks on the same place, the car stood six day ago. 650 Meters.
''Three and a half hour'' to the ''Watzmann''-House in 1930 Meters says a sign.
I manage the trip in three hours. The sun goes down. The full moon shows up behind an huge stone, the mountain.
|The Watzmann House has place for 180 people. Most are packed in a crowded sleeping rooms. I have
with nearly 30 other people a small place, not even 50 Centimers. Next to me snors a guy like a starting aeroplane. From 2.00 till 3.00 in the night I listen to the snoring
symphony of these people.
A little more sleep comes.
|Around 4.00 a.m. the first ones leave to climb up. At 5.15 I continue the ardous steep way up . Saturday suns shows up. I protect my skin with sun cream.|
|Three hours my lazy body sweats out the way up to the first top: ''Hocheck'' - something like ''High Corner''. 2640 Meters, only 100 Meters higher is the ''Watzmann Mittelspitze'' - something like ''middle peak''.|
Most mountaineers have security belts and continue to climb. I'm exhausted, my knees are trembling. I sit, eat and return. Slowly.
Friday after my office I run uphill, this Samedy I creep downhill. All others wander quicker. My head can not stand the sun. Headache comes and doesn't leave till the evening. When I rest, I rest in the shadow.
At 3.00 p.m. the body takes half an hour sleep in the
grass. Finally. Sleep is the best.
|Strange: after 24 hours fight with nature in- and outside, deep, deep peace fills every cell. Even peace in my thoughts. Thanks
- cherished readers for your company!
Sunday - in the Public Pool. My fingers feel floppy animated, to write. The next, new special edition of the ''Latest Dumbday Daily Spiritual Sunday Shutdown''!?
''Shutup'', Sheela shouts and sweats. Here we go, if you dare to accompany this! It is this!
|A public. proletarian pool - uhh I love my bully brothers chasing
sweet sisters with mediocre monkey dull desires! Show up naked alive! Shameless sensitivity!
Last night I took the way on the highway home. But Motorhome Noby Dick is no Ferrari. Those red pimp body boxes race on the left line with 200 Kilometers per hour. Slowly like a loaded Camel N0by Dick swings my exhausted body next to sleep. Drivers sleep on a highway is not the best thing to do. Anything else is better.
|So Saturday night I leave the Highway at the Lake Chiemsee,
to take a night bath there. My body feels utterly tired, lays down to sleep in the car.
I wake up freezing, make my bed. Sleep again. At night 2.00 a.m. I finish the last 84 Kilometers journey home. Back into Mima's naked, warm, willing arms.
Sunday: How beautiful these women look in the public pool! Everyone shows, what hidden excitments reveal those precious secrects of lust, passion and, and ... endless. Endless history, how you and me came into life. Blablabla!
What I miss most in e-mail sharing is body-lanuage. Most words lie, pics can lie. But how to hide, when you move your body? How? Show up! Naked!
|Sunday in the public pool: Clothes and tatoos, hairs in all colours, cheap jewelries, arms and hands - continously in many movements. Special young ones decorate the nearly naked money monkey for highest attraction! Gender sweet promises! Is existence, naked nature deeply designed, to melt into each other pleasures!? Or are my senses trapped in power plays?|
|Reality at home: Mimamai invites me into her arms. Our bodies melt together. Bodies batteries use high voltage to change electrical energy. Simple.|