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Back to the roots

Berlin, 16.03.2023.

The sun is shining through the window of one of my favorite cafés from my time as a student. Berlin is presenting itself in the most beautiful shades of gray and I'm nostalgic. I've known this street for years, ran down this street to university so many times, once again a bit late, and this café is where I wrote an endless amount of term papers and my bachelor's thesis.

I've been here so many times and I took it for granted, but here I am: missing Späti-beer, table soccer in Neukölln and visiting the theater without stopping by at home after a long day. This city vibrates and I miss the trembling under my feet when the subway passes underneath. At the same time, I miss the morning runs in Bellevue and the summer afternoons on the Danube river during my Erasmus semester in Vienna, and it's best not to even get me started on my time in Tel Aviv: surfing before breakfast, volleyball in the evenings, the smell of sunburn and freedom. All these memories leave me with bittersweet goosebumps, make me happy and even more: they make me content.

Apparently I have to be almost 400km away from my van right now to find my creativity again and to write: not even to-do lists for once. For the past three and a half months, I haven't spent a day without preparing for the upcoming trip. For such a long time I've been in this state where I'm no longer quite at home, but not yet on the road either, mentally quite far away and thus at odds with my physically very present body.

After all, I cannot wait to soak up all the new memories, that are yet to come, while enjoying the safety of this beloved hometown of mine.

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