Well, I mean, yes okay, literally there are short cuts. There are alleyways and side streets. You can duck into the u-bahn and pop out the other side, no ticket required. You can skip merrily from one side of the Tiergarten to the other. You can zip behind the back of the central train station to get from Alexanderplatz to the Brandenburg Gate. But in life, where it counts, there are no short cuts. I know where literal and metaphor meet (I had a great big literal/metaphorical wall carve me up and represent ideology and be the cause of actual human deaths - I get this) but the metaphorical is where it counts most really. And in that space here's the one thing I've learned if you care to listen: there are no short cuts.
I think it's fair to say I have been through a lot. Been the epicentre of a lot of fucked up shit. Also been the site of some truly wonderful, exciting, joyous occasions. Good people have lived here and evil people have lived here, but, as is generally the case, many many more people have lived here that have fallen on the spectrum between those two states. It's an ever moving target with most of them. Rarely do they think about where they fall on any given day but I can feel them struggle with their dilemmas incessantly; moral, logistical, banal, life changing; dilemmas are being fought within people's consciousness constantly. Sometimes they genuinely don't know which path to take. Sometimes they know what the right thing to do is and yet still can't bring themselves to do it. Sometimes the right thing means losing out on other Good Things. It's hard for them, not that I could help even if I wanted. I've found the best thing to do is just let them fight their own battles whether it be individual, ideological, or political. The only thing I can do is be here. Silent but alive.
I don't remember when I came into being exactly. I guess there's a part of me that believes I've always existed but I know that's not true. But then, you don't remember being born do you? When did you know you were alive? Can you imagine what the world was like before you existed?
Exactly.
I started small, really small. A few tiny wooden houses that had little windows and low ceilings. You would not recognise me from the rows of apartment blocks and skyscrapers that exist within me today. Life was slow and steady back then, the dilemmas people faced were no less complex, however I think they had less time to dwell upon them. The main priority was survival rather than introspection. I personally like to keep a balance between the two, though I have a certain luxury in knowing I will always exist. Like I said, I've been through a lot. I've had to endure huge chunks of me being destroyed, bombings, riots, separation, all of it. The one thing that remains constant? Regeneration when the fighting is finished. I always continue growing no matter how much damage there has been. However bleak the outlook, I always come out stronger eventually. It's sometimes difficult to hold on to that fact when things do get bleak and black and sad and angry, but deep down I know: I'll come out ok. It might not happen quickly, or in the way I would wish, but I'll still be here; existing. Molding myself around what people need and being molded by people depending on what the circumstances dictate. It's a symbiotic process. It couldn't be anything but.
The other thing I've learned is that categorising the people here in any way, shape, or form whatsoever is pointless. They are all little unique snowflakes I like to say (with a pinch of knowing sarcasm and a dollop of genuineness). However, you can't get away from the fact that the snowflakes all look and behave pretty much the same if you're not examining them up close. I think people forget that; from far away they all look the same, up close they are all unique. But they meld together so easily and that is required if anything is to change - snowflakes can't change the world alone. But when they all get together they can transform me into something beautiful.
It's difficult to categorise me too. I see this as a point of pride. Start at my centre and walk fifteen minutes in any direction and you'll find a different feel, look, and atmosphere had you chosen to walk in the opposite direction. I like that about me. I enjoy the opulence of the Reichstag just as much as I love the graffiti that adorns the walls on my crumbling outskirts. Most other cities don't wear their history on their sleeve quite so defiantly as I do; it's just one of those things that I like about myself.
I live and breathe and exude everything my inhabitants need me to. I'm there with them when they feel completely alone, when they're joyful, when they're angry, when their babies are born and their loved ones die. I'm always here offering what I can - which is myself. Being here. That's what they need of me.
I got here by stoically playing the long game: there are no short cuts.
I don't remember when I came into being exactly. I guess there's a part of me that believes I've always existed but I know that's not true. But then, you don't remember being born do you? When did you know you were alive? Can you imagine what the world was like before you existed?
Exactly.
I started small, really small. A few tiny wooden houses that had little windows and low ceilings. You would not recognise me from the rows of apartment blocks and skyscrapers that exist within me today. Life was slow and steady back then, the dilemmas people faced were no less complex, however I think they had less time to dwell upon them. The main priority was survival rather than introspection. I personally like to keep a balance between the two, though I have a certain luxury in knowing I will always exist. Like I said, I've been through a lot. I've had to endure huge chunks of me being destroyed, bombings, riots, separation, all of it. The one thing that remains constant? Regeneration when the fighting is finished. I always continue growing no matter how much damage there has been. However bleak the outlook, I always come out stronger eventually. It's sometimes difficult to hold on to that fact when things do get bleak and black and sad and angry, but deep down I know: I'll come out ok. It might not happen quickly, or in the way I would wish, but I'll still be here; existing. Molding myself around what people need and being molded by people depending on what the circumstances dictate. It's a symbiotic process. It couldn't be anything but.
The other thing I've learned is that categorising the people here in any way, shape, or form whatsoever is pointless. They are all little unique snowflakes I like to say (with a pinch of knowing sarcasm and a dollop of genuineness). However, you can't get away from the fact that the snowflakes all look and behave pretty much the same if you're not examining them up close. I think people forget that; from far away they all look the same, up close they are all unique. But they meld together so easily and that is required if anything is to change - snowflakes can't change the world alone. But when they all get together they can transform me into something beautiful.
It's difficult to categorise me too. I see this as a point of pride. Start at my centre and walk fifteen minutes in any direction and you'll find a different feel, look, and atmosphere had you chosen to walk in the opposite direction. I like that about me. I enjoy the opulence of the Reichstag just as much as I love the graffiti that adorns the walls on my crumbling outskirts. Most other cities don't wear their history on their sleeve quite so defiantly as I do; it's just one of those things that I like about myself.
I live and breathe and exude everything my inhabitants need me to. I'm there with them when they feel completely alone, when they're joyful, when they're angry, when their babies are born and their loved ones die. I'm always here offering what I can - which is myself. Being here. That's what they need of me.
I got here by stoically playing the long game: there are no short cuts.
