kiss me berlin
a weird day today. its been really hard lately to leave the comfort of this house.. where i can pace the floors and soak myself in my own world for hours without many disruptions. ive been a lazy tourist lately and i know i will regret it. today i walked the dog, cleaned babettes room, read more jeanette winterson, brought my photos to the shop where i figured out how to develop my pics for free and drank coffee.
i went to the jewish museam. sometimes im such a poetic baby. i was crying before i even entered. i was smocking a cigarette at the entrance..watching all the poeples faces as they stepped out into the wind and the grey welcome of berlin. today i felt very young with such basic raw feelings and questions: i am sad. why do people kill. war is wrong.
this past week my feelings have been swollen , lost in the newness of berlin. my tears have been trapped in the mystrious parts of our bodies where we store the particles of life that are too hard to bear. damn , i cried so much at the museam. i was walking around with the redest eyes, you could have found me i n the dark. my mascara was in crass painted dash picasso lines all over my face. i was walking with the energy of a marathon runner at the end of a race. i cried and i cried. i cried for what 'my people' have had to weigh on their backs and suffer and suffer. i cried for the lost poets. their bodies and their words burned and gassed. i cried for the piles of bodies and the pools of blood laying at the surface of german forest. bodies burned and yellow stars remained.
ill always remember when i was young, asked my grandma what she did at the work camp. she said she helped make coffins...i said oh you made cofins for jews. she said no karen..jews didnt get coffins. and she smiled the type of smile that only those that have suffered there bones away can smile.
i cried for the contradictions that are too complex for my brain to swallow. i cried for what 'my poeple' have become. i cried for palestine. i cried for the ghettoes in europe and for those in palestine. i cried for memory hoping my tears would find a secure path to an answer .
more on that later.
after i went to a huge queer squat. 30 people live there..and have lovely huge apartments for free. the type of apartmetns that would costs 1000dollars a room in t.o. they have a coffee shop every monday which i attended. its always this same exciting nervous feeling i get opening the door bymyelf into a new palce with new people and no huge bag to stuff your insecurities in. sometimes i feel most comfortable alone. i met some really friendly dykes who were relaxing and had good humour. one of them invited me to her house to watch a movie. at the video store wi th a new person( i didnt even know her name) and we were trying to pick a film. i was immediately eyeing the sex and the city movies..but didnt want to admit incase she told the lesbopotically correct police. we couldt decide and then her face got red and she said' i hope u dont call the police..but do you want to rent sex and the city' i smiled and we went back t oher house smocked a joint..had lovely chats as if we had known each other for years and secretly watches SATC together.
now im in my home(whatever that means ..since i havent had a home in awhile) and i cant sleep again and its 3am. tommorow i shall write to my most wondeful gramps... i thought about him today cause i heard 'our' song plaeyed at the squat...nina simones 'ne me quiite pas' its a heat breaking passionate song that i want to share with the world. good night strange world. k.
i went to the jewish museam. sometimes im such a poetic baby. i was crying before i even entered. i was smocking a cigarette at the entrance..watching all the poeples faces as they stepped out into the wind and the grey welcome of berlin. today i felt very young with such basic raw feelings and questions: i am sad. why do people kill. war is wrong.
this past week my feelings have been swollen , lost in the newness of berlin. my tears have been trapped in the mystrious parts of our bodies where we store the particles of life that are too hard to bear. damn , i cried so much at the museam. i was walking around with the redest eyes, you could have found me i n the dark. my mascara was in crass painted dash picasso lines all over my face. i was walking with the energy of a marathon runner at the end of a race. i cried and i cried. i cried for what 'my people' have had to weigh on their backs and suffer and suffer. i cried for the lost poets. their bodies and their words burned and gassed. i cried for the piles of bodies and the pools of blood laying at the surface of german forest. bodies burned and yellow stars remained.
ill always remember when i was young, asked my grandma what she did at the work camp. she said she helped make coffins...i said oh you made cofins for jews. she said no karen..jews didnt get coffins. and she smiled the type of smile that only those that have suffered there bones away can smile.
i cried for the contradictions that are too complex for my brain to swallow. i cried for what 'my poeple' have become. i cried for palestine. i cried for the ghettoes in europe and for those in palestine. i cried for memory hoping my tears would find a secure path to an answer .
more on that later.
after i went to a huge queer squat. 30 people live there..and have lovely huge apartments for free. the type of apartmetns that would costs 1000dollars a room in t.o. they have a coffee shop every monday which i attended. its always this same exciting nervous feeling i get opening the door bymyelf into a new palce with new people and no huge bag to stuff your insecurities in. sometimes i feel most comfortable alone. i met some really friendly dykes who were relaxing and had good humour. one of them invited me to her house to watch a movie. at the video store wi th a new person( i didnt even know her name) and we were trying to pick a film. i was immediately eyeing the sex and the city movies..but didnt want to admit incase she told the lesbopotically correct police. we couldt decide and then her face got red and she said' i hope u dont call the police..but do you want to rent sex and the city' i smiled and we went back t oher house smocked a joint..had lovely chats as if we had known each other for years and secretly watches SATC together.
now im in my home(whatever that means ..since i havent had a home in awhile) and i cant sleep again and its 3am. tommorow i shall write to my most wondeful gramps... i thought about him today cause i heard 'our' song plaeyed at the squat...nina simones 'ne me quiite pas' its a heat breaking passionate song that i want to share with the world. good night strange world. k.