Impressions from a long day
Yesterday was a long day, and by that I mean that I didn't sleep on the night from June, 2nd to June, 3rd. There is one thing that came to me, about which I shall write another post in the usual style, but so as to not forget about all the rest, I'll allow myself a collection of passing remarks.
I tried to navigate my way through East Prussia (no offense meant) just by going by the sun, starting in Danzig (ditto). So I ran in a circle, and when I reached its farthest point, I was ready to believe about anything about where I was. Actually, I thought I was at the confluence of the Weichsel and the Bug, although I could only do so by assuming that the thus shaped peninsula was pointing east instead of west. In reality, I was on an island east of the mouth of the Weichsel. When I chanced on a bridge that was leading north-east over what seamed to be a wide river, which could have only been the Weichsel, though, again, I had forgotten that I had already crossed it, I thought I must have come too far south and would be now north of the Weichsel somewhere way out south-east. Anyway, when I reached the eastern end of the island, it looked like a confluence, because east of the island lay another island, making it appear as if a northerly and a southerly river joined on their way east, wide, majestic rivers at that. And while I had already driven the whole night through, reaching the apparent confluence about 7 in the morning, I was intrigued and in no danger whatsoever of falling asleep. When I later reached the Lithuanian road to Riga, much later admittedly, about 10 hours later, I couldn't drive 10 kilometers without thinking that I'd never see Riga before falling asleep, but that road I knew very well and there was nothing that could have gone wrong in terms of wrong turns. But then I somehow managed to start thinking about stuff when I subconsciously registered that I was entering the light of the no-night zone, and a very different light to anything in the late afternoon it is, and a very, very different sunset, which goes on for ages (well, about 30 minutes, actually, at least when you're driving north): The houses shine bright with their walls frontally illuminated, and the fields lie in a strange half-shadow, owing to the bright, water coloured sky. This lack of shadow, this lack of the messenger of the coming night creates a deep sense of the uncanny in the piously advancing mind, that considers its spiritual growth a journey in the dark: What is holding this land together, in which there isn't the drama of self-determination? This I'll cover later. Initially, a wave of clarity about the devil hit me: If all the other angels bow before man, then they serve the common good, but not so the devil, and his seduction is the seduction to inconsiderate egoism: The pusher and the cause of stumbling.
When the sun had finally set a few minutes past 9 (sun, not summer time), the low, dark, disconnected clouds suddenly dispersed like the shards of a broken vessel and two of them which stayed closely together started to form the shapes of a man with a short beard, his head distinctly looking down, and a facial expression as one who concocts a soup, and that of a woman lying on her back with somewhat wild hair and a facial expression of immobile pleasedness, and I had the sad feeling as one who enters a land in which he has already become a legend.
Speaking of which, it became the truth the next morning: In Germany everybody trembles in fear of the mask, in Poland only those who wear it, about half the population, a very curious and actually rather funny in a mean way situation: Here the tough guy without the mask, there the concerned one, who is constantly asking herself whether a visitor warrants the mask or not, in Lithuania everybody feared the mask again, Latvia I can't remember and Estonia? Signs to wear them in banks and offices, nowhere else, and nobody wears them even in banks and offices, no-one keeps a distance, no-one enters a room only individually, actually there's almost something like a crowded couch sitting contest going on, TOTAL disregard.
You know, I've been talking a lot with people in Germany outside, where no-one wears it, it's an unusually personal experience these days, in Estonia you can actually have it with people at work as well. It's not quite yet here like it was in the Crimea while it still belonged to Ukraine, and Sevastopol in particular was existing in a time bubble in an alternate universe in which the Soviet Union never ended, but it's hard not to think that you are in the last free nation on earth, well, normal or human would be better qualifiers, admitted. I wanted to spray WE SLEEP in black letters with white rim on the side of a local bridge which faces Hamburg and THEY LIVE in letters with exchanged colours on the other, but somebody had already sprayed something about adrenochrome on the same bridge and I didn't like the company.
I tried to navigate my way through East Prussia (no offense meant) just by going by the sun, starting in Danzig (ditto). So I ran in a circle, and when I reached its farthest point, I was ready to believe about anything about where I was. Actually, I thought I was at the confluence of the Weichsel and the Bug, although I could only do so by assuming that the thus shaped peninsula was pointing east instead of west. In reality, I was on an island east of the mouth of the Weichsel. When I chanced on a bridge that was leading north-east over what seamed to be a wide river, which could have only been the Weichsel, though, again, I had forgotten that I had already crossed it, I thought I must have come too far south and would be now north of the Weichsel somewhere way out south-east. Anyway, when I reached the eastern end of the island, it looked like a confluence, because east of the island lay another island, making it appear as if a northerly and a southerly river joined on their way east, wide, majestic rivers at that. And while I had already driven the whole night through, reaching the apparent confluence about 7 in the morning, I was intrigued and in no danger whatsoever of falling asleep. When I later reached the Lithuanian road to Riga, much later admittedly, about 10 hours later, I couldn't drive 10 kilometers without thinking that I'd never see Riga before falling asleep, but that road I knew very well and there was nothing that could have gone wrong in terms of wrong turns. But then I somehow managed to start thinking about stuff when I subconsciously registered that I was entering the light of the no-night zone, and a very different light to anything in the late afternoon it is, and a very, very different sunset, which goes on for ages (well, about 30 minutes, actually, at least when you're driving north): The houses shine bright with their walls frontally illuminated, and the fields lie in a strange half-shadow, owing to the bright, water coloured sky. This lack of shadow, this lack of the messenger of the coming night creates a deep sense of the uncanny in the piously advancing mind, that considers its spiritual growth a journey in the dark: What is holding this land together, in which there isn't the drama of self-determination? This I'll cover later. Initially, a wave of clarity about the devil hit me: If all the other angels bow before man, then they serve the common good, but not so the devil, and his seduction is the seduction to inconsiderate egoism: The pusher and the cause of stumbling.
When the sun had finally set a few minutes past 9 (sun, not summer time), the low, dark, disconnected clouds suddenly dispersed like the shards of a broken vessel and two of them which stayed closely together started to form the shapes of a man with a short beard, his head distinctly looking down, and a facial expression as one who concocts a soup, and that of a woman lying on her back with somewhat wild hair and a facial expression of immobile pleasedness, and I had the sad feeling as one who enters a land in which he has already become a legend.
Speaking of which, it became the truth the next morning: In Germany everybody trembles in fear of the mask, in Poland only those who wear it, about half the population, a very curious and actually rather funny in a mean way situation: Here the tough guy without the mask, there the concerned one, who is constantly asking herself whether a visitor warrants the mask or not, in Lithuania everybody feared the mask again, Latvia I can't remember and Estonia? Signs to wear them in banks and offices, nowhere else, and nobody wears them even in banks and offices, no-one keeps a distance, no-one enters a room only individually, actually there's almost something like a crowded couch sitting contest going on, TOTAL disregard.
You know, I've been talking a lot with people in Germany outside, where no-one wears it, it's an unusually personal experience these days, in Estonia you can actually have it with people at work as well. It's not quite yet here like it was in the Crimea while it still belonged to Ukraine, and Sevastopol in particular was existing in a time bubble in an alternate universe in which the Soviet Union never ended, but it's hard not to think that you are in the last free nation on earth, well, normal or human would be better qualifiers, admitted. I wanted to spray WE SLEEP in black letters with white rim on the side of a local bridge which faces Hamburg and THEY LIVE in letters with exchanged colours on the other, but somebody had already sprayed something about adrenochrome on the same bridge and I didn't like the company.
Labels: 30, formalisierung, geschichte, gesetze, institutionen, metaphysik, psychologie, wahrnehmungen, zeitgeschichte, ἰδέα, φιλοσοφία
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