The Tree
Germany does not allow outsiders, it is not the U.S. or south america. So you walk around at night, and you walk and walk and you don’t see anyone for quite a while. It is in the middle of the city, at day it’s full of people. But now, the night from sunday to monday, they all sleep.
The police and the taxi drivers, the drug dealers, the kids from the food shop that has open until 4 am, even Mc Donalds is closing the doors before them.
So you look into the faces of the people who stay outside the norm, who don’t get up at 6:30, who don’t work at the Office building, who don’t run to the University with the hope of a well paid job, or a honored critic of there latest intellectual writings. You see how lost thery are, how much they struggle to be respected as what they are.
But you feel a sense in it, sitting on a swing under a tree in the middle of the night. And you swing and there is nobody, nobody in sight the long way down the river, and you swing, and you swing like in a dream.
