Berlin (Germany)
Before the door opens and the storm begins, it is quiet for a brief moment. It is the kind of silence that I have only experienced between the dunes on the northern French coast. A complete and pure silence, gentle and calming. An absolute silence that pervades the entire body.
The storm is this city and everything I have to do in it in a short period of time. One appointment follows the next. Day after day. Without a break. None of them can be missed or postponed. Everything that I have planned thoroughly for weeks must work to the letter in these two weeks.
The first week can be called successful.
I am as far away from these dunes as I could possibly be. If I am here, I dream of being there. When I'm there, I dream of not having to be anywhere else. Unfortunately, I am still too influenced by a have to. So much so that it doesn't allow me to want to be there. One reason why I'm back here. Another, because I don't yet dare to be there completely.
I feel this tension with an intensity that is sometimes too much for me. Here I find none of the silence, peace and beauty that I long for. On the contrary, the buildings overwhelm me, the noise exhausts me, the disorder suffocates me. I lose myself in all this far too often and too quickly. Gray everywhere. Stone on stone. Sheet metal next to sheet metal. Body upon body. Wherever I look. It’s too much.
Berlin has lost its magic. I'm only here because I have to be. But basically I want to get away from here as quickly as possible. It's suffocating me.
I don't know exactly why I live the way I do, but it definitely has its origins in my childhood. Fear was a big issue. The world was always a dangerous place. But I never learned how to deal with this fear. There was never a safe space to recognize and name it. I remained alone with it. And always with a longing to be free. Especially free from fear.
Now I am free. But not free from fear.
Now I'm living a maximally free life, one without a fixed home and without any certainty as to what will happen after a few weeks or months or how things will continue in the near future. The world is not a dangerous place. I've learned that in all this time. But deep inside me is still this fear from my childhood that I keep returning to.
“Yes, this world is dangerous,” it whispers to me. „You will see.“
It takes over my feelings and thoughts. And when it is very strong, I am helplessly at its mercy. It's as if the ground beneath me opens up the next moment and I fall. Just falling into the endless depths. And the feeling that everything is falling apart and I'm sinking into the bottomless pit.
I would lose what was left of my security. I'd be thrown out of the apartment I'm registered with. I would lose the job that provides my income. I would lose everything. Her and ultimately my life. This fear, which comes from a deep feeling of worthlessness, continues to define my life. Here just as much as anywhere else.
Before the door opens and the storm begins, it is quiet for a brief moment. It is the kind of silence that I have only experienced between the dunes on the northern French coast. A complete and pure silence, gentle and calming. An absolute silence that pervades the entire body.
The storm is this city and everything I have to do in it in a short period of time. One appointment follows the next. Day after day. Without a break. None of them can be missed or postponed. Everything that I have planned thoroughly for weeks must work to the letter in these two weeks.
The first week can be called successful.
I am as far away from these dunes as I could possibly be. If I am here, I dream of being there. When I'm there, I dream of not having to be anywhere else. Unfortunately, I am still too influenced by a have to. So much so that it doesn't allow me to want to be there. One reason why I'm back here. Another, because I don't yet dare to be there completely.
I feel this tension with an intensity that is sometimes too much for me. Here I find none of the silence, peace and beauty that I long for. On the contrary, the buildings overwhelm me, the noise exhausts me, the disorder suffocates me. I lose myself in all this far too often and too quickly. Gray everywhere. Stone on stone. Sheet metal next to sheet metal. Body upon body. Wherever I look. It’s too much.
Berlin has lost its magic. I'm only here because I have to be. But basically I want to get away from here as quickly as possible. It's suffocating me.
I don't know exactly why I live the way I do, but it definitely has its origins in my childhood. Fear was a big issue. The world was always a dangerous place. But I never learned how to deal with this fear. There was never a safe space to recognize and name it. I remained alone with it. And always with a longing to be free. Especially free from fear.
Now I am free. But not free from fear.
Now I'm living a maximally free life, one without a fixed home and without any certainty as to what will happen after a few weeks or months or how things will continue in the near future. The world is not a dangerous place. I've learned that in all this time. But deep inside me is still this fear from my childhood that I keep returning to.
“Yes, this world is dangerous,” it whispers to me. „You will see.“
It takes over my feelings and thoughts. And when it is very strong, I am helplessly at its mercy. It's as if the ground beneath me opens up the next moment and I fall. Just falling into the endless depths. And the feeling that everything is falling apart and I'm sinking into the bottomless pit.
I would lose what was left of my security. I'd be thrown out of the apartment I'm registered with. I would lose the job that provides my income. I would lose everything. Her and ultimately my life. This fear, which comes from a deep feeling of worthlessness, continues to define my life. Here just as much as anywhere else.