And so an era ends. Joyce (pictured on the left), my favorite waitress at my favorite restaurant, retired. Congrats, Joyce!
Walking down your street again.
the city, dreaming
Don’t be uncreative bitches. (And could Colby Keller be any cuter?)
Summer soundtrack starts now. Few more perfect matches for my sensibility than Neil Hannon. This one goes out to Liz, Ben, Brianne, and all the other folks I’d like to see at the indie disco. I’ll tip one back at Rev’s for you.
Edelgard Clavey was an administrative assistant in the university’s psychiatric clinic. She has lived on her own since her divorce in the early eighties. She doesn’t have any children. From her teens she has been an active member of the Protestant church. For the past few weeks she has been bed-bound.
“Death is a test of one’s maturity. Everyone has to get through it on their own,” says Frau Clavey. “I want so very much to die. I want to become part of that vast extraordinary light. But dying is hard work. Death is in control of the process, I cannot influence its course. All I can do is wait. I was given my life, I had to live it, and now I am giving it back.
I’ve always worked hard, following a similar path to a nun: poverty, chastity, obedience. Now, I am no longer able to contribute anything to society and this pains me terribly. I do not want to be a financial drain on resources, yet another living corpse that is only a burden. I want to go, preferably immediately. Always be prepared, just like the boy scouts.”
- from Noch Mal Leben, a photographic exhibit by Walter Schels and Beate Lakotta.
