The tent is good and warm; everything is so comfortable, so cosy. Everything is arranged here so fucking awesomely. Inside the tent, it is warm; even my ass and my entire back are bathed in sweat; it’s also a little wet behind my ears.

I am so weary that it seems as if the button has become swollen and lies there like a dumpling; small buttons appear to grow out of it. They becoming thick and lay down on the throat. It presses down, so that one cannot breathe and everything starts to swell. And all the sounds begin to swell like the buttons and become bloated. Everything swells and one doesn’t want to touch anything. One is nauseous and wants to vomit. Inside the head, a brown button with four holes begins to swell.

My tooth hurts. I can’t even nibble on anything. One tooth is splintered, and in three others the nerves are dead. The doctor said that 15 teeth will have to be healed. I’m going completely crazy. So many teeth have to be healed, but there’s nothing one can do about it. The teeth hurt. And everyone is crawling into my throat to have a look at the 15 teeth that have to be healed.

I went for a walk outside and came across some kittens and wanted to pet them. Their heads fell off and they chased me, but I ran away and didn’t know where to hide from these heads. They screamed and ran passed me, looking me in the eyes as they grew paws, but I didn’t notice it immediately. I thought they were whole Kittens and not just heads. Their bodies remained on the street so that they could run. I want to feed them.

Little bird with four wings came flying toward us and began attacking us. We couldn’t do anything because the pigeons were shot before the war. They too were born from black cloth. The little birds attacked everyone and pecked at us; but one mustn’t cry, otherwise it will hurt. And no one believed me. They said I was babbling and not telling the fucking truth. And there, on the balcony, a clothesline...