The second visit. Teil des Episodenwerkes: Tale of never ending days.

  - Einleitung
  - Kapitel 1: The first awakening
  - Kapitel 2: Dawn
  - Kapitel 3: Disease.
  - Kapitel 4: The first visit
  - Kapitel 5: Time (part 1)
  - Kapitel 6: The second visit.
  - Kapitel 7: One hammer, one bullet.
  - Kapitel 8: The last visit
  - Kapitel 9: Fading sound


I cannot endure it any longer, I need to do something. Why doesn’t anybody tell me what the hell is going on? And then the door opens and Marie comes in. I am so happy right now, after all these years of practical silence between us, she still visits me in the hospital. What can I say to her, where can I start the conversation, how can I make her laugh? But then I remember, I don’t have to yet, in a couple days though I will go by her place: talk to her about the past and maybe about (our?) future. She looks at me and begins to cry. I want to comfort her and begin to cry myself, but she cannot see it. After all these years of suppression a fire rises in me again. A fire, wanting to protect her and to light her path, a fire to make her happy, a fire of love. She is prettier than ever, yet seems totally despaired. Hasn’t she found the truth, she was searching for? Probably not, because I haven’t found the death, I was searching for. (see “A Drinker’s diary, chapter six) She looks at me with these big, sad eyes and the lips, I have missed so long, form word after word: “You had promised me not to do it.” What have I promised her? I have assured her so much, and I almost always have kept my word. “Not to do it”?! “No, that is impossible.“ Suddenly a wind rushes through my mind, a deadly autumn wind, ripping all the leaves of hopes and dreams from the already deserted branches. I am not on medication, I didn’t have a cancer surgery, I am not sick: I am in a fucking coma. “You promised me not to do it”, she repeats, “You said you would try to become happy.” I did try. I tried everything, but never seemed able to replace the one fire, that burned bright in my life. And now I remember: after tormenting my body with alcohol other drugs and cigarettes for years, I, in a moment of deepest desperation, shot myself in the head.