“So much for being optimistic. They say love is in the air, so I hold my breath until my face turns purple.” raps Lil Wayne in a Drake song called Hell Ya Fu**in Right. It was on a drive from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem when Tobias was repeating this line. It was actually a lovely evening, so nobody had to hold their breath (Tobias was driving, I was switching CDs from Drake to Kanye West and back, and Liliane was giving us directions using Waze, the Israeli navigation app bought by Google for 1 billion dollars). Tobias was DJing (is that the word you use?) in Jerusalem in some small clubs. One was so small that a maximum of three people could squeeze in (you know the Andy Warhol saying: “But I always say, one’s company, two’s a crowd, and three’s a party”). So there we were, three people listening to this genius mix of hip hop and funk and whatever else Tobias played. The day before or the day after, who knows exactly, we went to Ramallah. We had this kind of stupid excitement you get when you do something you imagine to be a little dangerous. It wasn’t dangerous at all. Actually it was rather boring. We drank tea. The tea was so sweet it immediately dug a hole in your tooth. Then Tobias went to do some Chakra Yoga, which I cannot even imagine what it is. That was back on the other side of the fence. I only know that the room has to be hot like hell. And there is the Lady Bar, a place in Basel, where Tobias is somehow involved, where the room is, well, usually hot like hell, and you can hardly breathe. And in his backyard Tobias has a carpet lying around that looks like a magic carpet straight out of a story from One Thousand and One Nights you expect to start flying the very moment you sit down on it. It doesn’t start and you don’t want to believe that it doesn’t. And you wait, and it doesn’t start. Damn you, carpet.
I don’t know the numbers & statistics too well, but it started on january 6 & it ends today on march 6. If one sums up those days in between, you get more or less 60pages filled with spiracles out of my membrain. Pretty much straight from the heart, only filtered through the lens of how you say a thing or two. I end this journey where it all started: In motherland africa, land of fruit & honey, where the stars shine over desert skies like it was your father, the bustling thief, who stole them & put them up there.
But before I go to sit down & plug myself and virtual insanity off for the time being to look up & contemplate like a straying dog on a lonely beach close to the cosmic shores, I want to show one more thing, one more drop of water before I elapse again into the endless ocean of void & substance.
What he explains is in german language but I guess a water drop is pretty much universally understood. What I try to tell you, is, that I’m this drop of water, always vibrating, always in motion & inspired by the impulses that get to me in every day life. No-thing more and no-thing less. I literally dig every thing around me – especially you my reader, yourself a water drop in this vast ocean of possible vibrations. It’s simple, yes, but most of the time these are the most difficult things to understand for me. It’s so close-by that I often miss it or under-stand it when it’s already too late. But then again, there is no such thing as time if you think about it in a cosmic way. There are only different ways of under-standing one or an-other thing until you become one again with every thing there ever was, is or will be. I’m much obliged that you tooke the time to go through some of those spiracles and I’m looking more than forward to see you again in what some may call reality. god speed, tobias