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Coetzee

Limited closet space

To my surprise I won last night almost 50 dollars with poker. (I’m not sure if this is a good sign.)
When I returned home around 2 in the morning I stumbled upon two white flip-flops while looking for a book – I had bought the flip-flops in the summer of 2006 and I had forgotten about their existence.
The advantages of limited closet space consist mainly of your possessions becoming a surprise to you. (The disadvantages are obvious: you buy too many things twice.)
Today I decided to wear my white flip-flops – there is nothing better than Saturdays in New York during summertime.
Over lunch I read an excerpt of Coetzee’s new novel. I would argue that this is a beautiful day.


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Now there's another famous South African. And one I admire for his works, not his fame. Slow Man blew my mind. But maybe that's because I love Beckett. too Signing off now, going to soak in my bath and waste my time watching TV. I've decided that I prefer being rich over famous.
Gruess Gott
Thanks. The excerpt just took my thoughts away from one of the strangest days in my life.
flip flops
I have got nice flip flops from Barcelona. Thank you for remembering me! Going to wear them tomorrow.
What is so strange Friede? I have been reading you (and the rest) ... have you become part of your own postmodern fairytale or what?
Today was the day after my birthday. That day mostely is more special that the b-day itself. So was this one.
I visited the temple of Artemis, a wine-village with a name that requires special characters, I got myself a www.facebook.com membership and I took a taxi for the first time in my life, at night. Loved it.
Diary
I find myself skimming 'on anarchy' or 'on democracy' or any of the 'on' 'that come across as summaries of text books, and going straight for the girl in the red shift and thongs.
What does that mean or make of me? Migh it be reasonable to suspect this was in fact exactly Coetzee's point - he wants his readers to wonder about their own shallowness?
Therapy?
Some people seem to enjoy the therapeutic element of this blog.
I dedicate this chathartic song to them:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-QBOJZolP6o
Anna
Yes, partly. Although it seems to be more like Festen (the movie) taking place on a VOC ship starring the IND and powered by my father's bipolar disorder. And I am about to pull away the curtains. My role is to reveil the scenery.
Friede, I asked what is so strange or do i have to wait untill you reveiled everything?

Sundays on flip-flops are even better i would say. I love Coetzees excerpt. All the writers on this blog should go to a lecture of him. Maybe alltogether. Of course we should not speak a word. We speak again when we are in front of our computers again.
dejeuner sur l'herbe 2007
What about the following:

We can make a continuation on all the versions of dejeuner sur l'herbe. A postmodern one.
We meet for a picknick. We won't speak. We won't tell names. We pass through the inabillity to make a 100%contact, we pass through the loneliness, through the feeling of being the observer.
I registrate.
Anna,
flip-flops on Sundays are unacceptible in my opinion, 'but maybe that's because I like Beckett' (for the full quote by Noa, see above)
I 'd like to thank Johannes for the song. I loved it.
Poker
Dear Arnon Grunberg,

I must say I'm surprised to read that you play poker. Perhaps even more surprised, you 've actually won some money. I don't know why, but II would have never guessed you'd be any good at it. However, why would consider winning a bad sign?
With regards,
Jesse Hoek