The sheep are ringing and ringing half the night four meters from my bed over the road in the meadow.
I like that very much, these newcomers! Definitely make Ghost City a few degrees warmer.
Firm and rough, A sheep's body feels slightly fat, i touched one. It feels very good.
And I like the scent a lot.
Apparently the sheep sleep staggered, because their bells can be heard all night, they never completely fade away.
Yesterday it stormed and rained, but in this element the sheep grazed with their woolly necks over the grass,
without complaining about cold feet.
I want to sleep now or if that is not possible, immediately be a sheep.
I don't like to change my clothes. I'd have to squeeze them around the hinges of a knight's armored car.
Just remind me, like the leg of my barbie doll were adjustable in all directions
and almost cracked like a real one. Unwillingly.
I am a fashion sheep?
I went back to Camus for a while’ Mersault:
“At the nameless hour of the evening he looks at his face in the tin steam.”
Talks to himself crowd into his ear. But it goes on for a while, until he realizes, that they are his own.
7.5.21