It was the night of the day Buddy that had died. D. an I had been doing coke seriously and getting along like a million libraries on fire and we were burning burning burning out words and emotions and brotherhood and then the doorbell rings and there is R., in tears, because her grandma Buddy died and then like ten minutes later D. had booked her a flight so R. could go to the funeral, which was a jewish funeral, only two days later and half way around the globe and we even spoke to her american dad and R. told us not to use bad language, because her dad is so jewish but we did, and it was okay. You can say „shit“ when the site that you´re just booking a flight on keeps crashing. And we kept on burning burning burning that night. And it was in my system, obviously, kind of. Once a year at least you got to burn burn burn and usually I do that with one or two my brothers, only last night none of them was around, I just had to do it on my own. Some people have a Rentenversicherung. I have a stash of burn-money. And I enjoyed every fucking minute including the one where you ask a total stranger „Where´s fucking Tina?“ who you only met like an hour ago and who you tried to set up with the doorman who is hetero, turkish, doesnt´t look like it and has interesting stories to tell because you just burn burn burn and everything is intense and interesting.