Think of Trump America, Global Now
Here, Berlin, with the Wall, and you have this art:
Hear also these words:
More borders than ever, and “would be visitors encounter barricades.”
Or are hit by laser beams.
“Every proprietor, or even tenant, sticks his nameplate on the door like a coat of arms, and studies the morning paper as if he were a world leader. The German people are divided into as many states as there are individuals, and these small states are mobile. Each person carries his own state around with him, and demands a toll when another wants to enter, in the form of a fly in amber or a fat-bellied bottle. And that’s just at the border. To reach further inside any state requires the right passwords.”
The circus scene with the kids!
Angel 1 wants to re-enter the History of the World
Enough with the world behind the world!
Here I go. But why?
Kid talking to himself before he jumps. Should probably watch the sequence again now. A girl, little feet, sent her a letter, hope she hasn’t read it yet, strange people, they keep shouting (people behind him, behind the fence, trying to attract his attention, to get him to stop), the angel couldn’t save him, angel lets out a scream when the kid jumps, here I go but why?
Berlin means nothing to me.
This is it. I’m finally going to do it.
Under the Mercedes-Benz giant top of skyscraper.
This is it.
This time I’m actually doing it. Funny I’m so calm.
After the storyteller, and the shot of a flock swirling in the air like you’ve seen them, a school of fish movement.
Why red socks and black shoes?
Too stupid.
Wearing a Walkman.
Trapeze tension exceptional. Fantastic. Rushing anxious jolts. They’ve got us. Will she make it through the routine?
Every one of us has a story. Lives a story. How good is yours? Ha, depends on the storyteller. But also the content. Or, maybe not. The interpretation of the content. Interpretation of the content. Interpret the content. Interpret Content. Content Interpretation. Which is it? All. Which shall it be now, then, this second? The Interpretation of Content. That’s what it is. You don’t need to free solo El Cap to live the all edge. Though, anyone dong that surely expresses alive. But the edge is always and only the edge. The focus. The magma. Everywhere and all where. The point of breath. The word, then the story. Depends on the storyteller.
Second Color on the Turkish woman in the laundromat
Thinking to herself as they all are.
You’ve wondered how to do this, by the glorious by: to render thought, and the miracle of thought and mind. Here exists a version.
Peter Faulk at the Imbiss. My my. That’s good stuff. My God! Peter Faulk at the Imbiss! Damn, look at Germany in the 80s, where I grew up and when I grew up and how it looked like when I grew up. How Germany smelled and tasted. Those skies I know. Buildings too. Makes me want to cry, the Life-Not-There-Any-Longer that place way back when. I’ve been to that Imbiss! With my brothers!
The angels’ next conversation takes place behind the Berlin Wall, along the security no-man’s land.
He’s going to take the plunge. Wants to leave the world behind the world and feel pain and raw.
I am not going to say the two small ponytails on middle-aged 80s men tale unfortunate.
Ahhh, now, on the other side, the side of color, he let out his hair. Now he’s bleeding. Tasting the blood. “it has a taste he says. Now I’m starting to understand.
The murals along the wall, by the way, are figgy amazing!
I got in a fight near those apartment buildings!
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Marion, dressed in red, red lipstick,
The whole world
I don’t know if there’s such a thing as destiny
But there is such a thing as deciding.
We’re more than just the two of us now
We embody something
The whole place is full of people with the same dream as ourselves
I’m ready
Now it’s your turn
The Red Dress Soliloquy
There is no greater story than ours, that of man and woman.