Karma. Alicia keys.
And I remember cold winter nights in Berlin. I remember how this city was so open and so vast and so full of hidden opportunities and incredible things to see and to do and to live.
It wouldn’t be a lie that Germany isn’t a place I could live at anymore, if it wasn’t for Berlin. Maybe, if I came back with a distorted view, with an American perspective and biased homesickness for California (ironically), I would see the same dusty, grey old and narrow-minded place like many other Americans do.
I haven’t yet been long enough here, though, and Alicia reminds me of this time. Of old planet Pankow, crispy golden shimmering mornings after long nights in hells kitchen, the underground clubs. The underground metro and the interesting faces, just as here, just as here on the Boulevard or at the beach walk to Venice. Or like in any other metro.
There was a boy that I wanted to love desperately but it just didn’t happen and other exciting and destroying experiences. There were little dive bars I’d find in a side alley and artists that were worth the trouble. Fucked up old houses inviting me to spread my artistic wings. It is possible.
And it is okay.
Ah, how I loved those nights. The underlying feeling of individuality trying and struggling to break through. To deal with me, myself and my surroundings – my life.
The good and the bad. Both. I didn’t know that you were here, waiting for me. Sometimes when I think of what you must have seen and what you went through and how much you wished you could escape – and you still do – I feel how my stomach turns around and I gulp and gulp and try not to give in to the feeling of throwing up. I don't have to explain to anybody what it was because so many people know how to describe it way more appropriately. How it feels to look the devil directly in the eyes. I just can say what you wrote me last easter. How you were feeling finally freen and how you said you wanted to grow with me WHEREVER (YEAH RIGHT).
You said. 'no more drugs, fighting, lying, stealing'. And then you called me a few weeks ago with a broken jaw.
It makes me sick to think of that. I want to reach out my shivering hand and touch you, directly in your wound.
There was a boy and he loved me oh so much. He said that it was the first time that he loved with his heart. ( and you said you have never loved a person like you love me) And I just couldn’t make it but he did everything for me. (and I did everything for you) How inexperienced and how terribly young I was. (How crazy in love I was) I just couldn’t take it like that.(You just couldn't take me in like that) And there was a falling angel, at my side, my dear Theresa. (and now I am falling hard) It was a great time just as this time is great. (it is hard but Ben said I should get over it because that's how guys are, the just love women and I didn't say it but I thought, what the fuck do you know about him??? but maybe he knows better than I thought) It was the future then already and it was always blank and always uncertain and always open towards the skies.(it makes me cry)
And Alicia is still there and she still sings for me and with her heart because I can hear that and I don’t care what the people say (she is still good). Or you, for that matter (don't critize anymore because I don't matter anymore). I want to love like that, again. Ah. (I want it to be alright but it won't)
I remember cold mornings, I ran barefoot over the cold floor to the freezing cold shower container and took a quick shower.(our shower sucks) Or how I’d put on make up in the bathroom before going out with Mira.(I don't go out anymore except for with Klodi and then we get drunk and we are in the same boat she says you should grow up man!) Yeah. And we were a family and we stuck together and it was great and it was just as great a life as it could be anywhere (life is great here, too, and I found a family here too). And maybe I just don’t always like the self indulgent and self confident and self asserting attitude that California instills in me and everybody else. (I didn't like Berlin's junky attitude either) I think I will go back despite the fact that it’s getting kind of hard to conceive of that (maybe I won't). Despite the fact that I could imagine to stay here and live here and have this big country as my base. After all. Please don’t laugh. I know you were scared the whole time because I said there is no way I could live here (You told Klodi I just don't understand, you said, she doesn't understand that I would be in Berlin in three days if she went there but actually you hated this city because of my love for it as you hated everything else I loved, even yourself). See me now, see me, see me how I am struggling to understand my home country now with the new won perspective on life (I joke about Europeans now, not about Americans anymore). See how I could have stayed with you and fuck, man, see who would have gone around the world - it certainly wasn't you.( I didn't go to Brazil because of you motherfucker)
Yeah, and where you are I don’t. Sometimes it crosses my mind that after all I maybe should marry Jasper (NOWAYS) but I don’t think that would be possible either. There is so much more I will stretch into, how could anyone possibly embrace that? How could you? How could have you? You couldn’t. ( COULD YOU?)
And that’s okay. (Who am I fucking trying to convince? FUcK)) Because there I go. With my life in my hands (under my feet?) and my wings growing by the minute (my new great awesome happy life). It’s okay not to have the fitting counter part yet. (WHATEVER) (FUCK YOU JUST DIDN"T LEARN DID YOU) (FUCK i am just not over it yet, huh?) (DO YOU WANT TO?)
Ah I miss you (shit)
And I miss you cold winter nights. Too. (it was a great time, yes, both of them)
And I can’t call you but trust me I want to. And I want to wake up, at times, in an entirely different place. And maybe an entirely different life.
A life in wich I wouldn't have known you but only the stars above.
Sometimes I feel like I would like to forget.
And I am so reluctant but I am fully becoming the half American that I am.
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