(no subject)
the most beautiful and insane place in berlin is gone. how can that be? it lived for seven years before the police found it, before the landlord noticed, or the neighbors complained. karmanoia, the home of all crazy artistic ideas, where ideals were everyday life and nothing was impossible. there, nothing was strange because everything was strange, and the house changed day to day as much as the inhabitants. it was alive. to explain what karmanoia was like would fall short in every way of its actual being. i can tell you that there was a labyrinth built into the second floor- completely dark, one was thrown into a closet and the door shut behind. up a ladder, through a cave, down a slide and through a forest and THEN there was the true labyrinth, in which you would find crawl spaces, more ladders to nowhere, false doors and disorienting turns. i can also tell you about the theater, black velveted walls and a chandelier made of some kind of bird skull, the small terrace seating around the wall like shakespearean times, where every type of music might be found on a thursday or saturday night. downstairs was the bar, fitted like a nineteenth century bordello turned asylum, where you might be asked to play the trumpet for your beer, and you might also just as well be ignored by the bartender for not complying. from the outside, even at night, it looked like a normal housefront. why make such a wonderful place disappear? why destroy the value of the city? money is an evil thing. it reduces us to groveling worms, bent on normality, bent on maintaining the everyday existence that breaks us without our even noticing. turns us into monsters that abhor the thought of the different because it's a threat to our precious stability. mustn't give in. give me chaos, give me messes, give me craziness and the crazed desire for living. all else is dust gray.