some remarks

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Ankara, Turkey
I'm just a sociologist astonished by the marvelous sense of humor of the universe! So, why not be a bad hat?

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Umsonst und Langsam


Yesterday, I got an email from K. my old land-lady, the most delicate lady I've ever known. Actually, I'm not sure to call her land-lady because she is also the tenant of that apartment in Moabit. So, we rented it for a period of time, till she came back. She contacted us when she found our announcement in WG-Gesucht (a website for free apartments and rooms, and for those who are looking for them). I think, we took a shine to each other when we first visited her place. She's got a really good taste of music, books and movies. She gave her apartment to us, and I lived there for seven months, and my roomie has moved in my room, and is still living there with her.


some of her books and my favorite procrastination spot
She left her books, music archive and her plants to us to care of them. I was so happy as we would have a music player with two big speakers. After a long time of listening music from the laptop, it was a miraculous thing for us to be able to hear the 'hidden notes' in the songs we love. It's an old-style player with a manual uncomplicated equalizer system. It works well enough though. Her archive is so rich - from Pink Floyd to Morcheeba, Kruder und Dorfmeister, Radiohead, Nick Cave, Badly Drawn Boy, and many others some of which were new to me. After I moved out in Friedrichshain, she invited me for dinner. Radiohead's new album was newly released back then. She was partially disappointed by the album due to the predominantly use of electronic sounds which is what I most like about the album. "I'm an old-style lady my dear" she said. Then we had a long conversation about their smooth change they've made, especially with In Rainbows. I'm missing such conversations with her.


our music corner
Recently, I've been thinking that I left a life in Berlin, a life I made a lot of effort to build and then passed all those I made with my hands, all that I lived and experienced, from those I learned my lesson, and my stuff to someone else's hands. I can’t help wondering if the things I left there reminds the people, who use them now, of me. Maybe a song, a book, a scent, or just the times... I mean the things, beside their normal material functionality, which would drag these people into some nostalgic and maybe some romantic moments. For example, does the Chinese girl, whom I sold my bike to, remember my voice sometimes when she rides it without being aware of the fact that this bike would show her the times I had on it if it could have such a mechanism to record these moments? Or the same goes to my coffee machine, which was a part of my flesh and blood there, and to the person, whoever uses it now .

Some people criticize me a lot about these bonds I have with stuff because sometimes I can be like a hoarder and even keep old train tickets as souvenirs. I always think all such things have some kind of a history in themselves. In the same way, I am always curious about the coins I find on the grounds, the jewels and the books in the second-hand stores. I don't know, have you ever realized that the books borrowed from the libraries, or bought from the antique shops, or found in a hotel room, carry so many traces on them about the people who read them? It could be some notes on the pages, or a coffee fleck. I generally make up stories about them in my mind. In Dresden, on the wardrobe in my second room, I found two figures which are, I guess, the pieces of a chess set. I'm still keeping them and, oddly enough, I carry them with me where ever I travel to. I don't know, maybe I've got the feeling that some day in some place I will meet their real owner and get the chance to learn about the real story. Yeah, I know, it would be a 'good' American romantic comedy.


the banana tree
And, of course, it is a "he". It's a banana tree for f...s sake
although we've never seen him to bear any banana.
I don't like to lose my stuff (who does), or to leave them for good, especially if I'm not finished with them. That's why I was careful with the things of K. as she lent them to us and was not finished with them. Sometimes, I was over-careful so that, I think, I annoyed my mother during her visit whenever she touched something belonging to K. Ok, I have to admit that we, I and my roomie, were not so sensitive with the plants, they were almost dying under our custody. Well, I was nearly in tears because I thought the banana tree (we had a special connection between us) was dead. I blamed myself since I had talked to him so much (he never answered though), I thought "oh boy, I killed him with my darkness". I read something about this in a magazine that the plants could be effected by the negative modes of the people. Anyway, it was just my stupid pms state of mind. Its baby came out from the same root in the following week and I learned that this was a normal situation for the banana trees.

I have felt about Berlin the very same as about my lost/left stuff I had an emotional bonds with: I was not finished with her yet, and with the things I left there (especially with my skateboard). I'm really missing Berlin now, mostly my room and my balcony in Moabit. I had the ironic starts with the days there. The balcony sees the 'magnificent' edifice of the Moabit Courthouse (Kriminalgericht Moabit) and its prison, and  I was against this view smoking, drinking my coffee and reading Foucault. I'm missing to have this irony. The last time I went to Berlin, I stayed in that flat as a guest. But on the road from the airport to Moabit, I said, "I'm home". When I came into my old room, it smelled like home. It felt like that till the bad news came. It's funny though. In the last 4 months in Berlin, I was complaining about the boredom and the depression I fell into, and now I'm missing that slut.

But I also took some stuff with me from there. Like some music from K. She had a bunch of mixed CDs. My favorite one is named Umsonst & Langsam, just like our days in Turmstraße (but in a good sense). Whenever I listen to this compilation composed of 18 soft and calming tracks, I try to figure out how and what K. feels while listening to them, of what they remind her, or if she sings along. I created a playlist with the same name in grooveshark. If you’re interested :o)

2 songs missing in this playlist:
Good Days  -  FemBots*

*my favorite

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