Berlin ex post

Days have passed since leaving the Tegel terminal chasing desperate bits of tmobile wifi. Sitting on the shores of magnigicent Adriatic, the scroll of iPod playlist passes over David Bowie's Heroes ... and I can't help it. Press play and it all comes back.

The lonely walk across Checkpoint Charlie. Cynical smile on tourist hordes in desperate pursuit for vanity photos and "I was there" badges. Takeaway pieces of the Wall and nights lost in oblivion. The giant celebration of long awaited victory. The triumph. The prize.

Yet, the truth is only a mile away on the east. As we pass the gate of triumph, past beyond collectible shops,we still see the same despair, the same abandoned wasteland in ideology of nothingness. The new Wall arises. The Ghetto. Void souls traversing the same ex-Lennian minimalism convinced that they live in modern-day utopia.

It seems that, once there was a hope here. A genuine feeling. A living life. Yet, what I see now is a synthetic fiber of modern-day self-admiration, in a world that elevates not caring about anything to mankind's ultimate purpose.

And once again, the cycle of life. Morning rays tear down the short summer night. The Tower turns it's lights off and morning glory is reflected on it's chrome sphere. Everyone is still awake, enjoying the Prize. Tired of nightmares chasing me on my computer anywhere I go, in a desperate attempt to escape, I join the oblivious hordes and pursuit salvation in my morning sleep.

Berlin dawn :: 4am songbook

||| blinkenlights of television tower under the delicate smile of newborn moon.

... across pale reminiscents of dark ages. |||

||| under the skyline of despair.

... filled with memories of hope. |||

the daytime mist arrives.