the zapparoli performance i'm writing about there has been made available as a recording by the artist: https://martazapparoli.bandcamp.com/album/ilektrofonitikos-live-at-ohm-berlin-2026

let's see if i connect with that better this time around.

yesterday during the day, i even got dizzy twice. the mix of sleep deprivation and stress can do that to you, i guess.

so, yeah ... we need to find ways to improve our situation, but we also need to just ... get some proper sleep once in a while. it isn't easy to juggle all these responsibilities while you still have to work to make money to pay the rents for apartments in which life is hell.

we paid € 70 total to get around nine hours of sleep in a comfy bed in a non-descript hotel a few minutes away, room 303 (acieeeeed, etc.). something tells me it won't be the last time. a friend has a place outside the city, we might stay there for the weekend.

this is our life now.

we're both mentally and psychologically exhausted. i don't have much work these days, but try and go live on the radio and say substantial things about a sensitive topic after two hours of sleep.

we spent the entire last week trying to deal with both situations simultaneously, again documenting stuff, trying to find ways of making others do something while not exactly getting much sleep.

my downstairs neighbour wakes us up twice, both times around 3am in the morning. on another night, she and some other people are moving furniture around the apartment around midnight. my partner's upstairs neighbour goes on even longer stomping runs.

yesterday, we booked a night at a hotel.

so nothing has changed, in fact she seems intent on provoking us even further.

but hold on, my apartment should be fine now, no? (insert »foreshadowing...« meme yet again.)

turns out, my downstairs neighbour wasn't kicked out. we learn from a lawyer that a »final legal consequence« is just another letter threatening her once more.

due to the weather being better, she's home less, the guy isn't currently there as frequently. but at night, she still goes crazy.

two days later, i am standing on the balcony and see her and a friend coming home. they talk about me, it seems—i can't say for certain, i think they speak russian. but then they switch to english, laughing and cracking jokes that appear to make fun of me. i don't care, as long as they realise and respect that we're downstairs and would like to have a quiet evening.

they get in, they start trampling on purpose and laugh all the way through it for half an hour. so now it's two of them.