Today's two-hour lecture was probably the last AIDs activity for a while... except of course for catching up with some counseling.
Framed with a great deal of self-clarification – I felt the need to explain to my students that I was tired out by the subject...
And then did parts of the 'AIDS Rage' lecture, with most of the examples. Exhausted, came home.
This evening, putting things away: the apartment clean and quiet, myself calmer.
As I take clothes from the dryer, I think: sometimes revisiting these feelings, these ideas, is like tearing at old wounds...
Which isn't as horrific an image as it might seem to you: for me it feels only sad, rather – alert. As though I am watching myself, and keeping the past in my conscious mind.
I go through some of my psychology study e-books, reordering them, thinking of last night, when I read Ralf König's Bullenklöten – which is in a way a sexy comedy; but last night I was focused on the terribly sad ending, after one character's pursuit of raw sex has collided with his lover's equally frustrating search for romance – when both have been horribly disappointed by their illusions and mistakes, which have almost torn them apart, they find each other again on a northern beach...
– Er ist weg – es ist vorbei. Und safe war's auch nicht.
– Ich weiß.
and finally one puts his arm around the other.
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