Translation from Bosnian by Elizabeta Bakovska
I have been to Berlin several times. The last memory is of a small hotel in which I stayed, half-secretly, without informing the acquaintances that I was there. I needed silence, escape, I needed to take some distance from everything and from myself, and still be close to some old friends, love and the forgotten yearning, in case my loneliness becomes unbearable.
A hotel in the vicinity of Karl-Marx-Straße. How can I interpret this except as a good sign. Neukölln is a pleasant area. Lively. I can not define its action, but I don’t want to. I came to remain a foreigner because I’m leaving in couple of days. It’s not cold. The hotel room had a strange ceiling, because I was in the attic.
I play some music. Devastations. The more recent immigrant scene of Berlin, I thought jokingly. As if wanting to put myself to sleep, I list the albums created in Berlin and inspired by Berlin: Lou Reed – Berlin, David Bowie – Heroes, Iggy Pop – The Idiot, U2 — Achtung Baby, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds – Your Funeral… My Trial and, of course Einsturzende Neubauten – 1/2 Mensch…
So much time after Reed, Pop, Bad Seeds: Devastations! Just as good, just as hypnotizing. The Devastations on their first album. The article is lost on the other two. Everything else remained, fortunately, not devastated, because they got better with each new album. Too bad that they only recorded three. The song Under is the anthem of my small and unusual hotel room. I will never fall asleep.