1994
from Diary
At a café in Vienna: My image reflected on the tiles of the washroom this morning looked like a lonely eagle. Then I lived the whole day wearing this eagle. But nobody recognized my eagle, because I didn’t fly like an eagle nor cry out the eagle’s words.
Would anybody notice even if I were to cry out with eagle’s words and fly like the eagle does?
No, the reality is that I am sitting here in a café in Vienna, looking like a lonely eagle as a waiter watched me with a doubtful look, as if he recognized a suspicious and sick bird when my beak touched the coffee cup, making a strange sound.