ALL THE THINGS THAT PEOPLE DO IN WINTER, THEY ALL MELT DOWN IN SUMMER

october 13
i will face this world alone and never be lonely

today's super-hit
fallen snow remix of au revoir simone by teenagers

i am writing this being in papenburg visiting my grandma. it's her 86th birthday tomorrow that's why me and my mother are here. it's 9pm right now and i am sitting on a hotelroom-like bed in a care centre for ederly people. when my grandpa died about 9 years ago my mother and her brothers and sisters decided it would be best for my grandma to move here. for sure it is a nice place to stay when you're old but i suddenly remember how it was back then when i was a kid visiting my grandparents in their huge house that was so exciting and adventurous to little me.

the long never-ending lawn that was surrounding the whole building, the lobby with its big windows to the left, a lot of sunlight and that great entrance hall. ahead there was the huge living room with so many old carpets and sofas, a grand piano and classical instruments everywhere, paintings and photographs and that old-fashioned furniture that survived second world war, and with a door to the beautiful garden, and thousands of old books and tapes and records right next to the dinner table and the little kitchen. back in the hall to your right these long great stairs up. there were all the rooms for all the 9 children. i remember sleeping in one of those really old beds where the mattresses where still filled with hay. i still know everything. how it looked like, felt like, and the smell - somehow so warm, tender and comforting - and how the light fell into the hall down on the cold marble floor. i still remember everything, and now it's been over 8 years since i've been there. i still know it all just like it's been yesterday. i am dead honest; and now sitting on this fresh-made bed in this hotelroom that totally says nothing to me, all i really want is to go back to my old grandparents house and be there rediscovering every inch, every secret corner, every hidden place i once discovered for the first time back then when i was younger. now this place is empty. no one lives there anymore, and i can't go back there anymore. i can not just walk into the hall, up the stairs, lay myself down in those old beds, looking into those big mirrors or starring at the old dark furniture or these old black and white photographs (that i used to love so much) of my mother and her sisters and brothers and uncles and aunts. this place doesn't exist anymore.

as my grandpa died, this house died as well. i don't know why i feel this way right now. i never longed for that place for so long, i regret those years i spend away from that home, not caring at all. but now that i am here spending time with my grandma and my mother, getting to know these persons completely new, i somehow feel at home. i know this sounds stupid, maybe way too much drama for this lonely evening in a hotelroom, but that's how it feels like. as i said before, my grandma is going to be 86 tomorrow. wow, what a great age! we haven't spoken or even met for years. i feel like i don't really now this person at all, so i am glad to be here right now and i think she's happy about it too. in the next days me and my mother want to visit our old house again. the house where she was born and raised and spent most of her childhood days. i can't wait, exciting, spooky even but maybe it is good to see this place again, just passing it on one of our walks through this wonderful harbour town taking a look at it from the other side of the road. well, that's it - that's what's going on right now. i hope you're all well.