the heidegger files

2018 - 2019 21 v

When a large number of refugees from predominantly Muslim countries came to Europe, especially Austria, in 2015, I began to think even more about what this could mean for our culture in the long term. The majority who came were young men, but also families however. Austrians with more than several generations of Austrian roots have had fewer and fewer children since the 1960s. Migrants, especially Muslim migrants, basically have more than one or even numerous children. The majority of them are from less educated classes and the social class is not the best. The image of women and the attitude to democracy and self-determination are not something that inspires me in my personal view of things. I am sceptical. All in all, I am not too worried, as everything in life always develops differently than expected. Mostly.

2019 6 v

Two of my three children accompanying me through the forest, into rooms, across areas. I am breaking down from time to time. Taking a position that suits my children more than me. They accept it. The confusion is not theirs, it is mine. I don't know, what causes it. It is only guesswork that leads to new guesswork, into a labyrinth that could panic if I hadn't been caught in it for so long.

2018

merce cuminhand's great granddaughter performing a highterto unpublished thingy

2007 - 2018 12 v

Go forth, burning sighs, to that sweet place. Where it, which does not heed my suffering, remains, so proud to see, and so secure, taking life und its power as but a game. And there, armed with arrows and fire, besiege that hard and adamantine soul. So that it will turn to more merciful concerns, and so that it will take pity on my weakened laments. Go and tell the landscape of my pain, and how I go crying, short of breath. Ah, who hides from me that beautiful, gentle gaze? And then return, with it will tamed, to make my life happy and serene, for now it is loathsome to others, and burdensome to me.

wien, 2010

3 v

2014

3 v

alpl, 2021

1 v The most beautiful thing I felt inside It's so pure and delicate, it's hard to imagine And if I want to dare to sink into my thoughts, So the feeling has vanished for me. And what is it that so delicately sprang from me? I do not know and I cannot reveal it; The purest part of the soul can only feel it And it's locked deep in my heart

2005 - 2018

7 v

piran, 2021

1 v I fall into the ocean without stopping I sink into the unfathomable depth of your eternity for a moment I overcome the illusion and may taste the sweetness of peace At the same time - my heart is on fire kindled by the love of your sea that touches the bottom of my soul and lifts the veil of truth - for a quick glance ...

piran, 2021

1 v Piran, Slovenia. Even after a dozen visits, I can't help but love this not entirely unique little town near the border with Italy and Croatia with its thousand details. Coming here gives me the confidence that a McDonald's branch in Mexico gave me in 1977. Everything always remains as I remembered it. I scrape my hands and feet on the sharp edges of the breakwater, I lie on pebbles and sunbathe until my head aches and the sun has done its work on my skin. In the evening I go to dine and notice that cevapcici are prepared completely unchanged since they were invented so that I am still plagued by stomach pains on the second day after. Giuseppe Tartini lifts his hat. Limestone everywhere. And it's loud. At dawn from the brooding seagulls, all day long from the tourists and mopeds in the narrow streets and in the evening from people who come to eat in flip-flops. I smoke too many cigarettes, drink too much wine, eat too much meat, fish and french fries. Too much of everything. And the wonderful, crystal clear sea and the sea air. I'll be back there asap.