Wash armpits with water only, life without time, Luisa von der Fuchsmühle and the magical amulet

October 29, 2023. I stayed up until 1 AM yesterday watching an amateur documentary about a couple who traveled 19,000 km by bicycle around the world. It fascinated me. And that they met hospitable people from various cultures. The documentary reminded me that people are good at heart.

I woke up at 10 AM and when I looked in the mirror, I noticed very dark circles under my eyes and a slight white coating on my tongue. The dark circles were probably because I stayed up late last night, and the white coating was from late-night eating. I also felt slightly melancholic or low on energy. So, I took a quick cold shower and immediately felt a surge of energy paired with feelings of happiness.

I smelled my armpits. They stank. I washed them with the showerhead and cold water. The smell was still there. So, I dried myself off outside the armpits and went to the sink to reach for the hand soap. But then an idea came to me: What if I tried washing my armpits with lukewarm water first?

I wet my hand with lukewarm water and rubbed it in my right armpit, then washed my hand and did it again. It still smelled, but less. So, I repeated the process. After four rounds, my armpit was odor-free. It had worked to neutralize the armpit odor with just water.

So, I decided to start an experiment today and wash my armpits only with water from now on, not with soap. Maybe this habit would bring my armpit microbiome back into balance and the armpits would smell less over time.

I didn’t do anything productive today. Mom studied for her training, and I watched the YouTube video “Future in the Country Commune,” where people shared everything, from clothing to income. Everyone contributed as much as they could.

The country commune is called Fuchsmühle. I simply fell in love with Luisa when I saw the video. The way she wrinkles her nose - so sweet. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Her deep, almost divine gaze stuck in my mind and burned into my heart and head. The way she stood next to Robin during an interview and looked at him. That's how I want to be looked at by a woman.

I fantasized: I could imagine such a community. But it could be optimized even more, and a lot of work could be saved in such a community if only extreme minimalists lived there. In this community, philosophical discussions would take place, and brilliant ideas would emerge, advancing the world. Here, book authors and scientists would live as extreme minimalists.

Mom's wardrobe was picked up today. She is switching to a clothes rack.

Just before I took the S4 from Hildesheim home at 6 PM, I was on my laptop and came across a YouTube suggestion: "Living without a clock." I wanted to try that too.

I thought about living without a clock: A bird is never too early or too late, a flower has no deadline, a dog doesn't look at the clock, and the elephant doesn't care how old it is.

How often have I heard the phrase "I don't have time"? Everyone has the same amount of time. And I have a lot of it. So, others must have a lot of it too.

I decided to count how often I look at the clock tomorrow.

I also read about how to train an internal stopwatch. To do this, you have to calibrate your own second-counting with the real clock and practice a bit.

For this, I count with my sense of second steps up to 60. Then I look at the stopwatch to see how much time has actually passed. If the stopwatch shows more than 60 seconds, I have to count faster. If it shows less than 60 seconds, I have to count slower. After a few exercises, I should get a feel for the duration of a second and thus have an accurate internal stopwatch without technical aids.

In Laatzen, a brunette woman, probably in her mid-40s, sat across from me in the four-seater. She looked very sexy, with her tight blue jeans and crossed legs, so close to me that I somehow felt attracted. She was reading something on her phone, which she carried with a flip case, as people over 40 usually do. I was on my laptop and occasionally looked at her. She had a silver, ring-shaped amulet around her neck that caught my attention.

I got off at the main train station in Hanover and went to the buses because the trams weren't running in my direction due to construction.

On the bus, I stood by the window and looked at the sky, where a full moon was visible between the clouds. Somehow, I kept thinking about that amulet. It attracted me somehow. When I got off at Vahrenwalder Platz and crossed the street, I saw a woman standing on the other side. A shiny chain hung around her neck, but I didn't know if it was the same woman, as it was hard to recognize in the dark. I walked past her and realized it was indeed the same amulet. I kept walking. But suddenly, I felt the urge to go back and talk to her. And I did.

»Hey,« I said as I stood in front of her.

»Hello.«

»We just met, right?« I asked.

»No, I don't think so.«

»Your necklace somehow drew me in. We were sitting across from each other on the train.«

»Oh, you're the one with the laptop.«

»Yes, exactly. Are you a sorceress?« I asked her.

»No, why do you ask?« she laughed.

»Well, because of the amulet. It somehow enchanted me, like the ring in Lord of the Rings.«

»Oh, it's a Celtic amulet. I bought it on vacation. I don't think it's magical.«

»It still drew me in. Do you live around here?«

»No. I’m from Laatzen and I'm waiting for a friend. We're going to a concert together. And you?«

»I live here. What's your name?«

»Steffi. And yours?«

»Alexander.« I looked at her briefly.

»Would you like to meet for a coffee sometime?«

»Oh, that's sweet. But I'm married.«

»I see. Well then, have fun at the concert. And who knows, maybe the amulet will enchant your friend too.«

She laughed.

»Goodbye, Steffi,« I said, waving to her.

»Goodbye, Alexander,« she waved back and smiled.

At home, there was no one there. In the kitchen, I entered into the table when I have time for the WG casting. I wrote, »I always have time.«

Then I washed my socks and the underwear I was wearing. I smelled them and noticed they hardly smelled, even though I had been wearing them for four days. Either the smell is reduced by washing and not by wiping the anus, or it's because I only wash my intimate area with water now. But I believe both habits contribute to keeping my underwear clean and odor-free for longer.

Then I practiced how to use the internal stopwatch accurately. I counted in Russian because it was easier for me than in German, with the twisted numbers (also in arithmetic), like one and forty instead of forty-one. The first time, I was 7 seconds too slow.

On the second attempt, I looked at the stopwatch while counting. Then I tried again without looking at the stopwatch. I was 3 seconds too fast.

Third attempt: I imagined the stopwatch and its numbers. I counted along and was 3 seconds too fast.

I tried again: I looked at the stopwatch at the 10-second mark and noticed I was already too fast in the first 10 seconds. I looked at the stopwatch again and counted to 10. I noticed that in Russian, it is better to say the number up to 10 twice to be in the same rhythm as from number 11 onwards.

Micro-change: I mostly wash my armpits with only water.