Former Introduction
Fall represents change. During that time I think about my past a lot and I began wondering, if it's possible to introduce your past self in some way or another.
Some time ago, I lived in a city that once was the capital of Germany.
Bonn: A liminal space full of old people, rhine romanticism, and doves.
The whole city feels like a liminal space, something retired and antiquated. It relies only on its stories from the past: the former capital of Germany, Beethoven, and, if we go further back, the Romans, as well as the seven hills that are represented in the story of Snow White. When fall arrives and the fog and rain become more frequent, it just becomes even more melancholic. The leaves that were once green fall in coincidental red, yellow, and brown patterns. The people on the streets wear similar, if not darker, colors, and it feels as if the city shouldn’t have many people in the streets because its prime lies in the past. This sense of stagnation makes me wonder if Bonn, like many of us, is trapped in its history.
As the famous Croatian poet Petar Preradović once wrote:
"The only thing that is constant is change." And Bonn has definitely changed. Its history long gone as if nothing had happened.
If we could return to its past, would we encounter its ghosts, or would we find only empty space? And if the space was empty, wouldn’t that mean that time moves forward, because we cannot exist in what has already faded? That would suggest that we can't change the past, even if time travel existed. How then, do we embrace the fog in front of us? How does Bonn exist, knowing that its prime has passed and how do we?
In Bonn, only tourists are still interested to learn about its history, and when they leave, the people who don’t ask about it stay. The Bonners only care about the city in its present. They are the ones who will make its new history. This suggests that we as well can deal with our history in a similar way.
Some time ago, I lived in my head—the capital of me. Full of old stories, romanticism, and weird thoughts. My body, a liminal space, something that was young and full of life, relied only on what it knew: its own thoughts, familiar people, and the fairy tales it believed. When fall arrived, and the rain became more frequent, it tried to hold on to what it had known. But the colors the body had once depicted, began to fade. It felt as though it should be surrounded by people who would be dressed appropriately for its upcoming fog.
If the body recognizes that it is a space like any other, it will realize that its capital has also changed course. It will stop being trapped by its history and, instead, it will begin to embrace its future.
Hello, thank you for reading my Substack. I made this account to sit and share my thoughts with you over an imagined coffee. If you want to join, please subscribe to get my posts via E-mail for free - unless you want to buy yourself a real coffee while reading;)
The picture for this article is one I took of a nice Café in Bonn’s city.
Cheers ☕️,
Maki
Now I want to visit Bonn