Trolley makes a trinkling sound. When you are in the hospital it strikes me that communication is diminished. Like a blind person the autopilot of the ears is switched on.

Without pictures I try to determine what’s happening. And actually that is not much. So many people work in a hospital and so few are being seen. A huge contradiction.

The conversation in the office is over. The women left taking all the vibrant energy with them. And I feel like a luxury prisoner. I’ve committed myself to stay; but the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that staying somewhere for years can not be a good thing.

Hospitalization is a bed without an end. An endless night without the freedom of dreams. One needs to be outside in order to keep in touch with reality, with the world. And all this I hear in the sound of the trolleys, the soft voices of the staff and the almost inaudible words of my neighbors.

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