„The atmosphere in the heart determines the melody of the life!“
I am sentenced time of my life to think of my past. A past which beautifully, for this was seldom frequently unsightly. It very often hurts to think.
One hears telling people again and again how beautiful was my youth. I would like to experience it once again.
I cannot say this. Real on the contrary. I would not like to have to experience my youth once again. This would be the hell for me.
Some people claim that one gets reborn. I only cannot say, hopefully.
I then should be afraid once again to experience such things which I have experienced.
Does one how beautiful is or can be youth? Everybody feels it differently. What is bad or unsightly for the one is beautiful or still beautiful for the different one. Where does the unattractiveness of a youth start? Where does it
stop? What is actually the youth?
The youth is taken away from some people from the start. This will be difficult to understand for many. How can one take the youth away from one?
But only I can say to it this very simply goes.
They ask me the question now how actually goes that one takes the childhood for one. But unfortunately I must say to it that this works with every man differently. But like one ....... has taken my childhood away from me, . let it tell me now and listen they well!
Nursery school. Nursery school. Nursery school?
What is a nursery school? A place to the little children ........ Yes, what do there little children do? Playing, studying? Or both?
Anyway there are children at this place at an age from three to six years. Was I there?
Sound photographs apparent yes. But I was really there? Yes, I cannot certainly and not no say either. My memory of it has died. It is away.
Why only? Why can a memory of a thing or even time have died? Oder is not gone out but shoved only to below or behind? Is there a reason that one replaces such memories as a man?
Yes, this is the correct word. My memories have been replaced by me. Have I replaced them but why?
It for certain enters reasons why a man replaces any memories to not remind himself of these anymore.
But which reason shall there be with me? Do I have at all a reason to replace my memories?
If I always have a try, this thinks caused to fetch back memory of this past into my brain mourning. Mourning for what?
I ask a question about the other one man. But I am not authorized to ask questions? Do I not have the right to get back my memory?
Sometimes one tells himself what want I to know for what I have done as a small child. And but it is
that way. I want to know the truth. Which truth do I want to know, then? Is there a truth about my life?
Or does the alleged truth exist only in my imagination?
But if it is an imagination, where I have it from?
Therefore I must to this end come that there really also must be a memory of the childhood for me. Always it also may a childhood have looked.
But it is my right to learn the truth or the memory of my childhood by hook or by crook? And who will give her to me back? Can I ask to give back me my childhood, i.e. my memory of any man again?
But what is if I harm another by this memory? Do I not nevertheless then have the right to get back my memory?
But this question has to be asked at the moment too early. Harm with that, so you cannot say at present at all because whether I somebody.
And I therefore have not only the right but also the duty to learn the truth, the whole truth and nothing as the truth about my childhood.
But whom can one ask for such things?
Logical answer: THE PARENTS!
But this childhood replacing what from its memory, if the parents of one's own tell one that there was nothing special in the childhood which would be worth. If they react to such a question even with outbursts of rage.
Is it a normal behavior of the parents that they react so?
Is it not rather more understandable if nothing had happened particularly that they then would react worriedly or anxiously? Perhaps because they worry about the only physical son?
They have reacted acidically no here. Why then only?
Does the feeling then not have to be aroused in
me that they have something to hide? What were shaming for them a little? Would mean a relegation or a little what for everyone involved?
Why does one can or does not want? Or is there really no whole truth?
Has had left all these years but where?
My grandfather cohabited with us in our apartment at that time. So anyway it was called. It sat in the wheelchair.
A wheelchair, so really ancient. How I know this? Very simple. There were photos about this. Photos which produce the evidence that he had lived with us. This is stored in my brain meanders but where. Somebody must have deleted my hard disk. Is this deleted irretrievably? Or can one fetch this back to data again? Somebody like this yes, then says to me if shall go. Because I would like to have these data in my brain again. I would like me to everything, what this man concerned or concerns again remember. I would like whom to know or what he was. From only stories not always. No, I would like to see his face in front of myself. I
want to remember him.
He was finally a part of my life. What him does concern and suit face its shape and everything fine therefore I have the right to keep?
Even if it was a terrible past, I would like so to do everything to get back this memory. Because this is it what agrees on me. What my personality forms. I want to know it. Because knowledge is power. And I want to have the power to know everything.
What the nursery school does concern just the same? I claim to know to be in a nursery school to be like it. I do not want to hear only from stories how nice it is to be a child. I no want to know, want to feel it personally as it is to be a child.
There was once a wellness clinic in our place. It was not directly in the place but more was her on the edge of the place. These were relatively very old buildings. One went by a portal along a long way at whose upper end a kind of circle was laid out. A flowerbed was, laid out in round form in the midst of this circle. It then went some levels up.
On the right and on the left a kind of porch was laid out in front of the entrance. Deck chairs always stood here. Both in summer and in winter.
If one went up the way to the main house, hand was one old wood hut left. A porch was also laid out also at this wood hut which was rather a house of the extents. Deck chairs stood also here over the whole year. I can still remember that many children always were in the lunchtime and enjoyed the fresh air here. I cannot say certainly whether they really enjoyed the air. But I imagined this. Wrapped up totally in blankets and only this one head was primarily in winter exposed to the cold if one. This had already to have been a marvelous feeling. One lay there in this cold and had anyway that one lay there into blankets covered nicely warmly.
A very high house stood on the right side of this way. For now local conditions a gigantic house. I, six to seven floors, think it had. Of course for a city-dweller this was not particularly high yet. But for our conditions already. Because the houses otherwise were highly and not more highly three floors in our place perhaps.
The apartments of the public employees of this wellness clinic were in this building. Therefore nurses etc.
Rooms were laid out behind the main building for a different sports.
This wellness clinic primarily was for children who were bed-wetters. But this was told to hand only reproached for backly. Because it was embarrassing for many people to talk about something like that. Although it is not clear for me why something like that shall be embarrassing. This does not determine for fun at the joy that they made into bed because these make children.
I have always envied these children. You were looked after and pampered. I can never remember that these children of the nurses have heard a bad word on it, that they are bed-wetters. On the contrary. One has always talked to them about this problem at leisure.
With me not so. My memory tells me that I was also a bed-wetter. But what I had to experience was anything but beautiful.
My father has somehow got it apparently in the night if I had made bed into this once again. The dress clubs which I then have got every time was impressive.
He always then thought that I would do this with a full intention. And he already would teach to refrain from it for me.
I asked my mother from what for a reason later once I was bed-wetter and how long I asked my mother today to be more exact. She told me that there was no sound reason why I have one wept. And I have not been a bed-wetter particularly for a long time. Only until sixth year of life.
Many thanks for reading this rehearsal, they have arrived at the end of the reading.
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