I miss winter as much as summer,
and always when the opposite season
is not there.

If I lose my arm,
then I miss it too,
because being without an arm,
is terrible after all.

But at the moment it is not so important to me,
or to put it better,
not as important as an arm can be,
or must be,
because in the end, I need it after all,
and it can be really useful, too,
an arm like that.

Somehow I miss my memories too,
but not at this level of feelings.
They are simply no longer there.

Missing something doesn’t have to be a feeling,
as then you can avoid kitsch.
For example! I can also miss my keys,
when they are not there,
and without any feelings at all.
Then I need them, and when they are not there,
it’s a nuisance,
like with the arm.

“Do you remember ...?’”
No, to be honest, I don’t,
but “yes, ha ha ha’’,
because all the others remember, and it would be funny if I didn’t
and were out of it.
Perhaps these are means of repression,
but I grew up in Prenzlauer Berg ...

There, a bad childhood means
grandma sometimes bringing you fries from McDonalds,
because the awful thing is, it’s not all gluten-free and vegan,
and the poor child has so many allergies.
Not a bad childhood, so no means of repression.

Do people who couldn’t eat walnuts all their lives,
because they are truly allergic, miss the taste of nuts?
Or the colour blind. Can you miss something
that you don’t know?
Perhaps you can, deep down inside. That is what
every bad romantic novel is based on.

That something or in this case someone was missed,
down inside.
But I don’t lack anything at all.
After all, I’m doing just fine,
to return to that ethical, show-appreciation stuff.
I don’t lack anything, I have both of my arms and
my keys too at the moment,
and a solid education apart from that.
At least, I think or hope so.

By the way, you have pretty stark acoustics in here.
You can hear every word
that’s spoken outside the door.
Cool, but a bit creepy too.
I’ve nothing left to write now.
Your acoustics here are really awesome.
I might miss them today
or maybe not, because...
As I said, overhearing strangers is a bit creepy.
But it’s fun, too, in a way.

A brief final thought: wouldn’t it be unbelievably cool if the sun were a hole?