Wet dreams

Protective detention

Trapped in our thoughts, trapped by our actions, trapped by the helplessness of others, probably brings the state we are in at the moment more clearly to the point than the plain and simple word "quarantine" or as I have been calling it lately, protective detention.


While doctors and nursing staff are engaged in an almost hopeless fight for human life and despite all their efforts, the weakest are being swept away, while politicians are still hesitantly, but due to ever increasing pressure from outside, discussing easing measures and getting out of the phase-out, even though they have not yet really started the second step, namely fighting the virus, while fierce discussions develop between the for and the against and many a one cannot keep his verbal attacks in check anymore, during all this, we sit here in our golden cage, enjoy the springlike awakening of nature, listen to the chirping of the birds and the creaking of the mooring lines, which are always tightening and want to tear the wooden bollards from their bracing, then loosen and sag to start a new attempt a few minutes later. A pleasant sound and the gentle movement reminds of the rocking of a crib. 


Only from afar, through a "ping" from Facebook, another dissatisfied voice that did not agree with the content of the last blog, the outside world penetrates our ears. Shopping once a week in the nearby supermarket is enough to make us feel uncomfortable with the noise level of the surrounding area. 


Despite all this, or perhaps because one has a certain distance from the happenings, the mind remains restless, questioning and agitated. Time and again, regulations that were passed hastily and are at least questionable anyway are softened up in order to give a lobby the necessary economic leeway that it has demanded from its party friends. After all, we elected you. With promises that cannot be kept, they pay back in kind, they try to appease those responsible - I forgot, there are no responsible. Sometimes I dream of being a lobbyist. I sit across from Winfried Kretschmann and say: "With your diesel campaign and the air pollution control in Stuttgart, you really miscalculated, it was really clever of you to join forces with the enemy Porsche and discuss new strategies to fight the pandemic and to secure the necessary change for new tasks". He replied "What do you mean by that?" "Just like I said". "You never voted for me in a million years.!" I wake up in a sweat, still half asleep and think to myself, "Shit, he noticed. It remains to be seen whether the many harvest workers who are now coming to Germany will trigger a new pandemic, or whether nothing will happen at all. Considering the accommodations for harvest workers, a risky venture. But it is for a good cause, the German "Michel" gets his asparagus, one more reason to stay in the golden cage. But perhaps, at least in the beginning, the Swedish approach has been understood and is now emulating it. At least with me, our politicians are making every effort to make it so difficult to understand decisions that there is no longer any logic behind them. Be that as it may, if the experiment succeeds, many decisions in the near past were completely superfluous and one can actually return to "normality" more quickly than desired, if it does not succeed, there will be no return to normal this year. This will then be an expensive asparagus and many people will hope never to have to leave the golden cage again. By the way, in the metaphor "The golden cage" the bird voluntarily leaves the cage after it has been opened. But it does not take very long and a new bird was locked up.


Trapped in our thoughts, trapped by our actions, trapped by the helplessness of others. Having learned nothing from all this, we continue to sit on our boat, listening to nature, observing nutria and water birds and letting ourselves be gently swayed back and forth, drifting the soul and dreaming of distant worlds, only brought back to life again and again by the creaking of the mooring lines. Maybe we should think about how we pay our doctors and nurses and the many helpers who are trying to keep the shop running now, and how we intend to pay in the future. Oh nonsense, what is done there is unaffordable anyway, was just a lost thought, not important, sometimes the creaking of a mooring line can be quite irritating. In this sense I wish as always fair winds and keep your ears stiff.



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