IN THE DARKNESS of your thoughts I would like to be a light.
I have no idea who wrote that. I just remember the piece of paper that was pinned up on the kitchen wall one day.
In the darkness of your thoughts …
I want someone to come out of the forest with a flashlight and aim the beam at my face. Being seen can be so important. It doesn’t matter by whom. I’m disappearing into myself more and more.
It’s the day after. My hand rests on the cold metal of the fender. I listen as if my fingertips could hear the vibrations. I need more time, I’m not yet able to open the trunk. Perhaps another hundred kilometers, maybe a thousand.
… I would like to be a light.
I get in and start the engine. If someone should ever follow my journey, he’ll get lost in its incoherence. I’m moving through Germany like a lab rat in a maze. I lurch and every step is uncertain. I step sideways, turn in circles. But whatever I do, I don’t stand still. Standing still is out of the question. Sixteen hours are bundled together into sixteen minutes when you travel aimlessly. The boundaries of your own perception start to fray, and everything seems meaningless. Even sleep loses its significance. I wish there were a light in the darkness of my thoughts. But there is no light. So I’m left with nothing but my thoughts.