05 December. World Soil Day. Berlin. Dahlem. Right next to the Grunewald. A loft. Approximately 70 square metres. A large living room with a ceiling height of 3.50 m. Kitchen. Bathroom. Guest toilet. Two small rooms. The ceiling is slightly vaulted. Supported lengthwise by four large glue beams. Chic, chic. A balcony half the size of our flat. Altogether a million things. And me. 6:30. In the middle of it. At peace. Didn’t realise we had such wealthy acquaintances. They have made their second home available to us for one night. So that on World Soil Day in front of the Brandenburg Gate, with music and dance and joy, we can draw attention to the fact that the world will sink into wars of hunger in 30 years at the latest if the topsoil of this earth is not regenerated immediately. Save Soil! Let’s make it happen!
And I in peace. Did I say that already? Oh, yes, I did. Sorry. I’m still a little tired. It’s still a bit early. But I had to write this down now. And I in peace. This is something unusual lately. That’s why I’m stressing about it. In the city we live in, in the flat we live in. In the environment. There is no peace there. We already fled this city once 15 years ago. Back then it made us lethargic and powerless. Now, a decade and a half later, it makes us nervous, restless, tense. The zeitgeist. How it works, in the wake of mass social media and Corona and Ukraine. And the insane rabid car designs. Compared to that, the lethargy and mushiness of those days were really still harmless. Against this aggressive demarcation of the individual against everything he did not necessarily need around him in his visual circle.
It had come to a head for me. And I was already counting the days. On 31 December we finally leave this city.
And now just in Berlin. And I in peace. In all strength. In all certainty. In all love and readiness to serve. No pulse beats against my vessels from within.
What I am actually trying to say is that places have an immeasurable influence on human consciousness. Places where people gather in despair and in the helpless struggle for meaningless survival – Even the No Diligence No Reward faction – wear down and grind down those who are there. Despair and fear are contagious. More contagious than Corona, because you don’t have to see anyone for it. It’s enough if five desperate people live next door. Then you already have it. If there are hundreds of thousands, then hardly anyone can escape. And there will be hundreds of thousands more.
And I in peace. Not because of the loft, the one worth a million. When I look at myself in the lift, I see that I definitely don’t belong here. I shake my head inwardly and think, my goodness, buy yourself some sensible clothes. But because I have left the place of the quarrel – the heirs -, the flat, and because I have left the city of the mentality of quiet ice-cold despair behind me. But maybe everyone is just still asleep here in Berlin, at Grunewald. Let’s see how I feel here at 10 o’clock.
It’s the people themselves. We can transmit everything. Every fear, every despair, every hatred. And: all kinds of love, knowledge, security.
This is how the world is made. Capitalist materialism, in its bottomless fear of death, is destroying our livelihood and infecting billions with its deadly poison. And today is World Soil Day. And we are going to the Brandenburg Gate today. With dance, song and lots of joy. And thus support our politicians in making the right decisions.
Those who have understood this story know that this is the only way we can save the world. Anger, in whatever direction, is again some anger, is again some separation more in the world. And it is contagious… One can smile and judge those who try to be full of joy at this time and who want to pass on that joy. But they are the ones we all have to thank for the fact that humanity has not yet completely sunk into rabid psychosis. They are the ones who infect the world with the inner knowledge of security in the eternal sense. The ones who keep the light shining in this world – and multiply it. Especially this.
Now it is 8:20 a.m. and the first continuous honking can already be heard outside… Time for light.