“So that’s how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the loss, no matter how important the thing that’s stolen from us – that’s snatched right out of our hands – even if we are left completely changed people with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to play out our lives this way, in silence.”
H. Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart
Another part of my recap. I’ll hopefully get to write more later but I’ll be off to Munich for this at 16:30:
We still have two free seats in the car so if anyone feels like coming with us – don’t be shy, drop me a message! It’s cheap and Kafe Kult is an excellent place to waste your time, believe me. There’s more info here.
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I dreamed tonight, which is rare. I had watched a documentary about science fiction b-movies in the 50s and 60s which I find rather fascinating. For example the original ‘Invasion Of The Body Snatchers’ from 1956 is such a creepy tale about the fear of conformity and concerns about technology. Well, imagery from that documentary kept coming up in my dream in which 5-10 people fled in a bus into a moon-landscape desert cause it was the only place in which they wouldn’t become changed/killed/etc like all the other humans. The story mingled with a Pet Sematary motif: an old man on the bus had lost his son but sat there smiling as in the desert suddenly they found him again and he slowly kept coming back to life. Ah, while I’m writing this I remember this recovery part coming from the Star Trek ‘Search for Spock’ movie that was on tv last night. Just that the son who came back to life in my dream had the weirdness of the undead cat and kid in Pet Sematary on him.
It was a dream that was like a self-built vehicle made up of bits and pieces of other cars and bikes and whatever but no one who steers it. Actually that’s also how I feel about life. I might be the one who picks up bits and pieces and stick and fit them in and try to repair what’s necessary but I don’t feel like I’m driving. I’m just keeping it in motion and can chose how it moves or how it looks like but not where it will move.
Ha! Wisdom for breakfast.
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Last night was the first time in a while that I cried about the loss of my Mom. I sometimes get a feeling that it’s wrong that life just goes on and I’m not thinking more about her. I’ve finally packed all her clothes up to give them to asylum seekers and a woman shelter. It was a strange feeling but not as hard as you would imagine it to be. Or it’s just cause I’m so good in suppressing. I don’t allow the memories of when I found her come back to my mind. No way. Last night it was the simple fact of her not being there anymore hit me like out of nowhere. Like understanding that she’s gone. Forever. Most of the time I just feel as if she’s away on a long trip. Giving away her stuff makes me feel a bit like kicking her out of the house. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, and I don’t care if it’s either, I just know it makes me sad.
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Back to London. I only slept for a couple of minutes cause then the ‘food’ was served. The flight was smooth, there were just some little air turbulence before we landed and the landing itself was cool: London City Airport isn’t very big so you come down very abrupt and the braking distance also is rather short. Loved it. At the airport I got my luggage pretty fast and went to the Docklands Light Railway. It took a little help to figure what ticket to buy and even then I didn’t get an oyster card which makes public transport a lot cheaper. I’ve also found the journey planner Julie showed me helpful. The tube passageways at Bank Station seemed endless. I had forgotten how moist and hot the air down there is in London, I think it was the same in Paris. I was glad when I switched to a bus to get to Julie’s place. Of course I didn’t get off at the right station so I had to walk a bit longer. I was too exhausted to be excited and wonder about the weirdness of meeting someone you only know from the internet and I have to say it didn’t feel strange at all when she opened the door and we met. It was a warm welcome and I did my best to understand everything she said as she talked a lot and pretty fast. She’s a club scene drag artist with the name Holestar. She’s also a student of arts interested in working about the ever quicker rise and fall of celebrities in today media trash landscape. Well, a cup of tea and a couple of cigarettes later Julie headed for work and I felt every tired bone in my body from only having slept 3 hours. I curled up on the sofa and slept until Don txted about what I was up to later that night. Result was: I took a nice half an hour walk through Hackney (the Gostenhof of London, if I my say so) to Brick Lane, 93 Feet East where Don and Josh, Pirate Soundsystem, djed at that night. Another two people I’ve known from the internet since years (I even had put remixes by both of them on my ‘Gestures Of Indifference album) but whom I had never met in the physical world. My first impression of London nightlife was: lots of people standing on the street to smoke. Don said that the smoking ban indeed does effect London club nights and there are less people on parties. As much as I enjoy the communicative effect this streetsmoking thing has you’ll definitely find me thinking about alternative ideas of setting up parties if it starts taking the fun out of our Sophisticated Boom Boom night. Grrr!