Some really, really, really, fucking smart German guy. Sorry if you don’t speak German. I do, although I bet he didn’t know that. But, as he referred to me as an "anemic black-haired girl" I figured hey, fair game.
Some really, really, really, fucking smart German guy. Sorry if you don’t speak German. I do, although I bet he didn’t know that. But, as he referred to me as an "anemic black-haired girl" I figured hey, fair game.
Actually, I’m from Austria, which makes a whole bunch of differences (one of which is that I can call Kafka a compatriot or at least a Landsmann of mine without stretching the truth too far). And I figured you would at least speak a little German. What I did not think was, that you would actually take notice of what I wrote – which was kind of un-smart, considering that I confided my thoughts not to my dear diary, but to the internet, of all things. And the thing with “pale black-haired girl” I can explain: Philip K. Dick had the same thing going and wrote lots of books about it (for example “We Can Build You”).
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