It’s 2010 and i listen the voices of people from before i was born.
Living voices of meanwhile dead people.
This way i made a step back in the time, in my own room.
But noone is calling me. “Marco are you there ? – over”
Last, i found a cassettetape, showing again a voice from the past.
A boy of about eight years had recorded himself, i was touched when i heard myself.
My self, sparkling with enthusiasm and endless talking.
The laugh, high and loud. A laugh at the future I can still learn a lot from him, i thought.
About me; I opened this article with the word “over” it should be a link, as an answer from the past,
but the moment i try to catch myself in words it looks like i fight back to free myself.
Anyway, that’s not me.
I can’t tell you who i am, you can do it better.
I do not want to show you what i do, i just want you to look after me.
My life deserves a reporter.
“Over” and out.
