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Das erste Jahr Babybuddha jetzt auf:

http://www.hanser-literaturverlage.de/verlage/hanser-box

 

At the end of a baby day I suddenly think I’ve lost my language and must immediately go outside, onto the street, to a bar, to some show, be among people, in order to convince myself of the opposite. Our baby draws me out of my world without really letting me into his world. We are so different, I think then, it’s a miracle we can relate to each other at all, and right after that I think, with a shock, but we can’t relate to each other at all. The next moment it seems unthinkable to me (and inconceivable) that I ever was a baby myself, unthinkable even in a dream (and inconceivable). We (the baby, I) are completely separate from each other (in all ways and forever), no two beings could be more dissimilar, and what has brought us together today, on this day, will remain a mystery and a secret for all days to come. This absolute difference from my life – that is today’s lesson (and I go outside almost the moment you come home, and look for someone in order to see if I still am one of those people outside, for you can’t help me along, and it’s not hard to find someone, but I hesitate to approach him, finally I do approach him and the first thing I tell him has to do with our baby, and the words start flowing and I tell him what happened today, and talking is easy and my listener understands me, and I say: So I do still belong, and my listener says: Of course you do, sure.)

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