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Tag: Berlin

Dead ringers

Incorrect use of language generates monsters and leads sooner or later to unpleasant surprises. Get over it. A dead ringer is merely an exact replica, a look-a-like. Nothing to do with morbid urban legends about prematurely buried people saved by a bell in the old times.

Mutual misunderstanding

Two worlds: not clashing, merely apprehending one another. We look at them, detain them, study them and give our interpretation of their existence. They look at us, sometimes deliberately ignoring, sometimes opposing us. We’re not meant to be together. We chose gods and postulations over them.

Kindheit

When the child was a child,
It was the time for these questions:
Why am I me, and why not you?
Why am I here, and why not there?

From Song of Childhood
by Peter Handke

Snowy playground

When the child was a child,
It played with enthusiasm,
And, now, has just as much excitement as then,
But only when it concerns its work.

From Song of Childhood
by Peter Handke

Towards Berlin

German highways with the exhausting appeal of the monsters grown out of proportions, leading somewhere, somewhere far away, anaesthetizing sight and other senses with the vastness of the wintry landscape. How many years since the last stop? Or was it only yesterday?