electricgecko

A bright barely existing something aspiring to be air, striving to levitate. Uplifting, clean, astringent and free from gravitation. An imagined aldehyde in a barely perceptible shade of sage green and a hint of eccentric grey. Shapeless, etheral, but tempered, alive and soon free. (Ingesting a single sage pebble to close my solo dinner while considering options to aesthetically represent a framework of new thoughts, to interesting effect.)

Ich erreiche den See mit Widerständen, die Welt will sich nicht fügen. Zu anderen Zeiten hätte ich nun Macht und Kraft aufgewendet, an allen Wurzeln gerissen. Heute tue ich das nicht. Ich senke den Kopf und biege in den schmalen Weg, kaum eine Schulter breit. An seinem Ende öffnet sich der Blick. Der See liegt ruhig, die jungen Enten des Frühjahres sind ausgewachsen und ziehen ihre eigenen Bahnen. Die Sonne teilt den Himmel in hell und grau. Regen fällt in großen Tropfen, sie behalten großen Abstand zueinander, als genüge ihre Anzahl sonst nicht, die ganze Erde zu befeuchten. Ich beeile mich, das Wasser zu erreichen. Horizontal zur Oberfläche sehe ich wie der Regen niedergeht, auf den See und mich. Hinter dem Bogen der Halbinsel, hinter Palmen und Zypressen und über allen Villen steht weiterhin die Sonne. Auf der anderen Seite des Niederschlags: Regenbogen, hoch und schmal. Ich liege zwischen Wasser und Regen, ich vergesse zuerst den Tag und dann alles andere.

Guests at the flower shop¹ on September 10th, 2026: A guy in his early fifties, shaved head, wide workwear pants in heavy canvas, their hems meeting very round leather shoes, buffed to a shine. A plain t-shirt. Everything black, worn with silver jewellery. He is talking on the phone when he arrives, and continues to do so for all his visit until he leaves towards a large and very angular SUV. It is all black too.

A man, maybe forty, wearing olive green army fatigues, cropped, wide and oversized, with chunky Adidas running sneakers. They are silver and black, like a well-bombed tag. A close-fitting T-shirt in Taupe, at least four silver rings and heavy black frames with slightly toned lenses. When the sun fades, he throws on a black blazer with a structured shoulder.

A woman with cropped silver hair, in a black double breasted suit, two sizes larger than her diminuitive frame. She pairs it with a black T-shirt, silver running sneakers and red lipstick.

Late to arrive is a man of about sixty-five in green balloony pants, hems rolled up, low crotch. With it, a wide white dress shirt, rounded hem, cuffs open. He walks laboriously, with a noticable limp. He too wears sneakers, they are all black, with triple-stacked soles. They were made by Nike and Sacai.

1. This is one of the few places I brought with me from a previous version of my life. A flower shop, a café and an actual place, as well as an imagined one. I remember Lena and myself many years ago, at night, marvelling at the wood-clad multistorey across the small half-park with its poplars and benches. Trees are growing on the house’s roof, and exuberant greenery spills from every balcony. ↩︎