Franz Kafka lies in bed a lot. Sometimes with constipation and back pain, sometimes hopeless or to sleep through the hunger. There’s a lot of murder in the world, news of the war in Russia finds its way into his room, and at some point “peace in the Ukraine.” Kafka stays in his room, in a crowded apartment building, the “noise headquarters”. There is no real person with him, only eight octave notebooks, which he fills with pencil at the onset of the illness that will lead to his death. He writes short observations, ideas for meaningful or absurd sentences, sketches of stories and novels in the school notebooks, as well as everyday things, scraps of sentences, Hebrew vocabulary, thoughts on religion and immortality.