Mirck’s Room

...
...
Friday, June 25, 2004
01:20 p.m.

New Room (#21)
No...
Thursday, June 10, 2004
04:02 p.m.

New Room (#20)
N-o-t-h-i-n-g ...
Monday, June 7, 2004
03:08 p.m.

New Room (#19)
Nothing... Nothing... Nothing!
Monday, May 24, 2004
04:14 p.m.

New Room (#18)
Nothing...
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
07:07 p.m.

New Room (#17)
Nothing...
Thursday, May 13, 2004
11:13 a.m.

New Room (#16)
And all of a sudden, nothing happened...
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
01:07 p.m.

New room (#15)
I decide to go back to the room again. Climbing the stairs, I feel my arms trembling. What is wrong with me? And why is the old lady spying at me? I see a strip of light, which proves her door is not closed. I am too nervous to open that door. I keep on climbing to the next level. My room is waiting, grumbling like a wolf.
Tuesday, May 4, 2004
04:01 p.m.

New room (#14)
Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. I still don't know what to do. What is it I'm waiting for? It won't change my room, I supppose.
Monday, May 3, 2004
08:44 a.m.

New room (#13)
Paralysed by sadness, I wait for the things to come.
Thursday, April 29, 2004
03:30 p.m.

New room (#12)
I'm sad. I just don't take it anymore.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
09:21 a.m.

New Room (#11)
A house is not a home, like Candy sang. I wander back to memory lane. In this neighbourhood I grew up, so I expected to be extremely happy about returning to this place. But moving back is not giving me the youthly pleasures back. My mood has changed with the rust and damage that have covered the old building round here. Round here, round, round, spin around...
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
10:40 a.m.

New Room (#10)
Standing outside, I observe my apartment. "Outside looking in", like Herman Brood sang. There is no Maria Schneider inside, nor do I look like Marlon Brando. There is no erotic tension in my room. It's my new living space, my new home. But I'm in doubt, because it doesn't feel like home. Why?
Monday, April 26, 2004
09:34 a.m.

New Room (#9)
Paul: "It's me again."
Jeanne: "It's over."
Paul: "That's right. It's over and then it begins again. Jeanne: What begins again? I don't understand anything anymore."
Paul: "There's nothing to understand. We left the apartment, and now we begin and love all the rest of it."
Jeanne: "The rest of it?"
Paul: "Yeah, listen. I'm 45. I'm a widower. I own a little hotel. It's kind of a dump, but not completely a flop house. Then I used to live on my luck and I got married, and my wife killed herself."
Sunday, April 25, 2004
01:44 p.m.

New Room (#8)
Last Tango in Paris! I still remember that Brando movie like the day I saw it. This guy Paul was a witty fellow. My favorite quote: "Anyway, to make a long, dull story even duller, I come from a time when a guy like me used to come into a joint like this and pick up a young chick like you and... call her a bimbo."
Sunday, April 25, 2004
01:38 p.m.

New Room (#7)
What am I doing here? Why do I want to live in this appartment? What's the mystic part of this room? And where's the babe, so that I can play 'Last Tango in Paris' with her?
Sunday, April 25, 2004
01:27 p.m.

New Room (#6)
I ran down the stairs, almost bumping into the old lady living at the first floor. The heavy door bothered me to get easily outside. After a big pull, I stepped into the fresh air. Thank God!
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
10:42 a.m.

New Room (#5)
No more flash-backs please! I hate flash-backs. Just like I hate babyrooms. I have a goddamn headache. Come on, let's leave this room. I need some fresh air!
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
05:45 p.m.

New Room (#4)
Flash-back #1: I remember my mother, carrying me through the babyroom. How come I know this? If feel like Nike Hatzfeld...
Monday, April 19, 2004
03:30 p.m.

New Room (#3)
'Room' is a somewhat modest definition. In fact, I moved in an apartment with a livingroom, a bedroom, a tiny kitchen and a bathroom. The huge livingroom used to be split up. The former owner skipped the babyroom. Thank God. I hate babyrooms.
Thursday, April 15, 2004
10:43 a.m.

New Room (#2)
Wandering around my new room, I wondered why the former owner left without a note. He was gone that day. The broker told me he was a 'loner', never leaving his room and keeping the curtains shut all day. But this time he really left for good. No letter, no goodbye to the old lady downstairs. He was out, I was in. I don't complain, because it was hard enough to find a living space in this hard and hostile city. But all of a sudden, I got this chance. And here I am, wandering around my room.
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
04:44 p.m.

New room (#1)
And all of a sudden, something happened!
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
04:38 p.m.