69 lifts, 6 kilos, a skin mushroom and four months later...

Back in Berlin, back in my flat, back at work. The absurdity of it all - I step into my room, 30 square meters, way too big - whenever I had my own private space during the trip, it was usually my tent, and I came to perceive it as a luxurious portable home. I nearly felt like setting it up in my room - to feel back at home... I open my cupboard - empty of course as I'd put all my stuff away for the person who took my room during part of my trip - but it's so huge, or seems to be compared to my rucksack. I open the trunk where my clothes are stored to try find clean trousers and wonder why on earth I have so much stuff. And then I can't even put my old trousers on because I've put on weight anyway. Tomorrow will be spent sorting out stuff and keeping a minimum, giving away everything that's superfluous. Packing my rucksack out yesterday, I felt like packing everything back in. My sleeping bag, my isomate - basically my furniture - how strange to store them in other, solid furniture. Walking through the streets with four months of memories, people, moments, tied to my back. Confusion. Noise. People playing Car Driver, playing Woman, playing roles. Children crying. Police sirens. Buildings. Senseless repetition of activities, day in and day out. much to write...