It is a seasickness on solid ground. Its nature is such that you have forgotten the true names of things and now, in all haste, tip random names over them. Hastily. Hastily. But no sooner have you run away from them, than you have forgotten their names again. The poplar in the fields, which you have called `The Tower of Babel' because you didn't know or didn't want to know that it is a poplar, sways nameless again, and you might be forced to name it ?Noah, when he was drunk'.
(Franz Kafka from 'The Prayer')

The text above was the starting point and compass for our journey through a city which is, perhaps, Berlin. Time is disjointed: a person is threatened with the loss of the ground under his feet. He meets a woman, is shot and dies in the desert under the greedy eye of a TV camera.