Germany gets up [Audiobook]

It was once in a cold December night ...

He wakes up in a hotel near the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin. By habit he heats his right palm on the ringing alarm clock to turn it off. But he is not in his native province, where the alarm clock rings every morning at 11 o'clock, so he does not miss the day completely. It also rings no alarm clock and it is not 11am in the morning. It is 3am in the night and the high tones in his ear, which resemble the alarm, are still tinnitus-like remnants of the loud music a few hours earlier. He hits the bedside with his hand, where only his mobile phone is lying, which creates a flashlight show thanks to secular social media notifications.
As he wipes his sweat away from his forehead and congratulates him on a successful performance in a Berlin nightclub on the basis of the notifications on his smartphone, he asks himself what happened that night. He finds his first memories in the small, cozy adjoining room of the club, which is often even called "ironic" backstage. Because this few meters increase, which separates the artist from his fans, to call a stage, is common, but still extremely exaggerated. And the real show will take place behind the scenes anyway, when the Playback program is reeled off and the vivid meme retreats into its "backstage".
But who has been in the backstage a few hours ago? He remembers a blond girl who gave him beautiful eyes and vehemently held on to his leg so as not to fall off the edge of the couch. Her dreamy eyes, which have been red in some places, as well as their long-lasting sneezes, are directly present in his memory. These become stronger in the course of his coping with the past, and the recurring thought "Please, let her be 18. Please, let her be 18 "comes back into the playlist of his head, which now joins the tinnitus and forms a disturbing symphony in the ensemble.
He jerkily turns around in the hotel bed on the other side with the great hope that this blonde girl is not lying next to him. Lucky. Although he can smell the smell in his nose and restore his visual appearance in the memory, he now feels the greatest happiness hormones, since he did not follow him to the hotel. There will probably have been another willing guy from his fellow entourage to look after the girl. This is not his problem and his conscience thus remains a little cleaner for the moment. But the moments of happiness are only of a temporary kind, since other memories arise which push him badly on the stomach.
There was such an old acquaintance whom he has known from his past days from his province. Talks with the provincial authorities are not particularly exciting, since the resulting consensus is often the same. It used to be better. The hip hop has changed so much that you can not hear it anymore. These phrases can no longer be heard by the main protagonist of the event. So in his hotel bed he would like to put the thoughts on this male visit to the backstage and to devote himself to more enjoyable encounters.
But this time it has been different than before. There is something exciting happening. Why can not he remember everything after a few minutes at the stage of waxing? He gets up, turns on the light, goes to the bathroom, turns up the water tap, pours cold water in the face, looks into the mirror and screams. He shrieks. What happened? His right half of his face, including neck and upper body, is black and white, as if this part of his body is a replica of a 1930s film, while the left part of his body is normal in skin color. On the right body side, after a closer look, is a hook cross. How did this come about? He asked himself. He did appear last night in Berlin, not in Saxony. But now he quickly becomes aware of what happened last night. Now he is also aware of why he was so exhausted and wanted to go to sleep at 1 o'clock. His backstage guest from his old home has always been talking about a pill that makes you unconscious. In this unconscious state one gets the ability to commit time travel. But he would never take such an idiotic pill. In thought of this situation and the possible supply of the drug, he actually faints and sees blurred pictures of the provincial, in which he wishes him a good journey and farewells him with a haggard. In his psychosis he lands on a highway that is being built. The whole world appears in black and white color. He himself is no longer on the right half of the body in this look, as before on the mirror, but one with his environment - completely in black and white. Every time he talks, the noise from his vocal chords sounds louder than the actual voice.
Near the motorway there is a small house, which he enters. You can see big beer jugs with even bigger men and very big bellies. Between these crowds, which he knows best in times of his old province, the look of the fan girl from the Berlin backstage returns to his eye. She seems excited but also motivated at the same time. Instead of the red eyes through the joint, she has a more weary eyes that radiate anticipation. While she could no longer hold herself in the backstage due to the drug consumption, she now stands firm and upright in the host house. As she raises the right arm several times, in line with the drunken, fat men who have now risen from their seats, he realizes in what time he is. Especially as a small man with an Austrian accent and a black beard above the upper lip from the backstage to the remarkably small stage of the economy. He stands just a few yards from the man who caused the Second World War and killed millions of Jews, homosexuals and people with disabilities. Realizing that he is not in reality, but in a psychosis, he takes the courage from all the awesome followers of the self-proclaimed "leader," and he glares at him with his strong right hand, which is tested by a few alarm clocks , in the face. After a short shock stare inside the crowd, they hunt him in the bestial way with knives and throw him beer jugs as he disappears from the window of the baking, returns to the highway, hides himself in a bush on the edge of the road and waits longingly for The drug effect comes to an end.
Suddenly he hears a loud sound again. It sounds like an alarm clock. As a result of the usual routine, he hits the button of the alarm clock with his right hand ... and the sound goes out. He wakes up again and finds himself in his own bed. He runs into the bathroom, pulls the clothes off his body and looks at himself in the mirror. Except for a new pimple on the right temple, everything looks as before. It is also actually 11am in the morning ...
Tomorrow, he will be the prelude to a group in Berlin. The whole scenario has been a dream. Fortunately, he thinks. But he knows what to expect. Likewise, he now knows that his bad lyrics and his bad statements in his songs move nothing. Except his ass from here to Berlin. He takes a piece of paper and finally knows what to do. This nightmare can never be a reality.