Walking around, remembering what never was. Knowing everything, knowing nothing. I used to live here. I used to love here.
Ich vergesse, was ich dir erzählt habe.
Ich vergesse unsere Augenblicke.
Ich vergesse, dass ich Tabletten genommen habe.
Ich vergesse, wie es mit dir war.
Aber ich erinnere mich.
An awkward gallery. The last part of my series “Losing every day”.
Came back after a year.
No changes. But everything’s changed.
Walked through the city. Met friends. Had sun. And Rain. And Kölsch.
Talked to my neighbour. About big Schnitzel. Rheinland.
Liked it so far.
Rhein. What a river. Missed it.
Seeing my oleander not in bloom.
I don’t live here anymore.
What a pleasure it is discovering an old basement! Wondering who was there before me. Stepping down the creaking stairs. Watching out for spiders, mice and ghosts. Leaving my fingerprints behind. Being happy. Being sad. In a hurry. Bored. Feeling the present of the past so intense, that I wouldn’t be surprised at all if I went up again and found myself in another time. If I would only be quick enough, I could run into the family who lived here. Maybe scare them to death! So they would probably kick me down the stairs, this strange woman wearing strange clothes. Where the hell is she coming from? I should be careful travelling in time. And wouldn’t it be more interesting instead of scaring a family going outside, experiencing an unknown world? A world so near but not reachable? Exciting moments waiting for only me!
In the end, I had to return to my old young life. So I should definitely go back into this house. The family had to let me in. What would I tell them? Maybe the truth. A basement is a time machine.
An Empyrean Cycle
I dont have the answers, just a lot of questions.
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