and also looking into his eyes. His own eyes wandered through the audience and it was as if his hands belonged to someone else. Finally, he took a step back and bowed to his own hands.
Bianca Isabella Christine Tiator, German Psychoanalytical Association; Mainz Psychoanalytical Institute JUST AS HE WAS ABOUT TO ADDRESS THE ASSEMBLED GUESTS, HE LOST HIS VOICE. He never thought this would happen to him. He didn't know this feeling at all. He had heard others talk about it and knew that such strange phenomena existed – but he had never really been able to understand it and had always claimed that these other weaklings were acting stupid or putting on some kind of show. Now he was in this dilemma himself. But was it even a feeling? It was more like a thick, fat, perhaps slimy lump stuck in his throat. He kept trying to swallow it – because spitting it out seemed rather inappropriate in this situation. After all, he was standing here on stage, visible to everyone, at the microphone... It would undoubtedly be a rather absurd sight for the posh people down there, who were all staring at him expectantly, if he were to actually spit out this slippery, slimy, stinking lump here and now. Surely a snotty trail of mucus would appear on the stage and everything would glisten and fluoresce and... Hah! What a performance! Julia Gerlach, DPG/German Psychoanalytic Society Just as he was about to address the assembled guests, he lost his voice and he had to take a deep breath. He knew this feeling well, this fear that crept up on him from somewhere deep inside and threatened to overwhelm him. For a moment, he thought of the English king who stuttered through his speeches, gripped by the fear of failure. Don't digress now, he pulled himself together, took in the aroma of the food wafting from the restaurant kitchen for a moment, enveloping him like a gentle embrace. He felt his breathing calm down and began to speak. "Dear friends," he cleared his throat and looked around, gazing at the familiar faces. Over there sat his best friend Paul, smiling attentively at him. He knows how I feel right now, he thought, and took another breath. Some people are already getting impatient if you don't finally start. "Dear friends, I know this will surprise you. But it's high time you found out the reason for this invitation. In a moment, we'll eat, drink, laugh, talk, and eventually dance together, and at some point, when the mood is at its peak, just before the first guests start thinking about leaving, you'll notice that I've disappeared. Where to, you ask? Well, that question remains unanswered, of course. Maybe we'll see each other again, maybe not. I'm setting off into the unknown, a new path that even I don't know yet." He paused for a moment.
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