You Love Me, Don’t You?

With every blow, every punch, and every kick, his face burned itself more into my mind. The way he had mounted her like a savage, completely oblivious to the kaleidoscope of her dreams, her desires. He didn’t know that she always dropped three lumps of sugar into her coffee, or that she grunted like a little pig whenever something ridiculous happened on TV. He had no clue that she wore pink underwear during her period - a secret whimsy she never told anyone but me. Yet there he was, pressing her against the cold, unfeeling wall, invading her flawless body with his filthy cock, again and again, as if he had any right. He didn’t know her, not like I did. And he didn’t really care.

Design Is Everything

The other day, I asked myself whether I had ever consciously decided to become a designer. The answer was a perplexed shake of the head from one of the little men that haunt my mind. Like much of my life, it was more by chance than sheer will to succeed that I found myself on the path of those who make a living from creative work - or at least try to. Did I have the potential to choose alternative career paths? Perhaps. Did I make use of it? No. Why not? Maybe because I’ve always been more comfortable with subjectivity than objectivity. Does that mean I’m swimming in money, with my art hanging in the Museum of Modern Art in New York? Yes, no, maybe? Hello? Hello?!

Every Person Has Their Own Color

When Tsukuru Tazaki thinks back to his youth in Nagoya, he feels torn between gratitude and sadness. Now 36, he leads a bleak life in Tokyo, designing train stations, and living in isolation. For a long time, Tsukuru lingered near death by his own choice. Only his attraction to his new acquaintance keeps him going, their conversations, the hope of intimacy, with his past shadowing him. Tsukuru bears no resentment toward his best friends who abandoned him sixteen years ago. He accepted his fate in silence, tried to drown his sorrow, pursued love, but fell short. Tsukuru remembers the very last phone call with his mates, in which they asked him never to contact them again.

An Alternative Childhood

After days of rain, Tokyo seemed to sigh with relief as the sun returned. An April breeze carried birdsong and a clear sky over ruby rooftops. On my walk to deliver rent, I passed prowling cats, kids on skateboards, and an elderly woman watering flowers who smiled at me. Turning onto a small avenue, I stumbled on a perfect scene: Cherry blossoms drifting from a pink tree, students in blue uniforms with soft drinks by a red shrine, surrounded by small houses, rusty bicycles, and potted plants. I nearly cried - though maybe it was just my cherry blossom allergy. And clichés. I started wondering how my life might have unfolded if I’d grown up here instead of in Germany.

Your Bloody Smile

You told me about your family, your boyfriend, school, and the feeling of not knowing where you belonged. You said that Berlin was your last hope of finally getting your life together. I understood that all too well. On the other hand, I shared with you that I worked as a party photographer and had always wondered how I could make so much money from such a pointless job. However, I didn’t tell you about the drugs, the excesses, or the whores who came in and out of my house. I did, however, admit that my father didn’t take me seriously, that my first girlfriend had slept with my two best friends, and that I had once even been in prison. Why? That remained my secret - at least for now.

Reborn as a Student at a Japanese University

Guess who is now officially enrolled at Sojo University in the beautiful city of Kumamoto? That’s right - this guy. Founded shortly after the Second World War, the academy evolved from a technical high school and now offers courses in art, architecture, and various sciences. I ended up at the famous Faculty of Design, where they teach graphic, illustration, typography, photography, video, and 3D, among other subjects. Since I need to earn a minimum number of credits to complete my semester abroad and have no idea what to expect from the lectures, I’ve enrolled in nearly all the courses offered to me. I’ll narrow them down in a couple of weeks based on what I enjoy most.

God Is Dead

A hapless drifter falls for a big-boobed girl and, during a botched robbery, meets an absurdly undignified end - shot in the ass. This bizarre opener sets the stage for the surreal anime Mind Game. After his untimely demise, NEET Nishi encounters God, who grants him a second chance at life. Seizing this opportunity, Nishi embarks on a madcap escape alongside a failed swimmer and her tomboyish sister, fleeing gangsters, exaggerated cartoon figures, and ugly Frenchmen. Somewhere along the way, the narrative takes a turn into the absurd: A space crew feeds on alien excrement while grappling with the revelation that their salvation lies in the most peculiar of places: A vagina.

A New Language, a New Life

As I prepare to spend the foreseeable future in Japan and am passionate about the culture of the Land of the Rising Sun, it feels only natural to learn the language. And where better to embark on this journey, one I hope will ultimately broaden my intellectual horizons, than in the heart of Japan? Exactly. With that in mind, I visited the Tokyo Metropolitan Central Library in the vibrant international district of Roppongi. Armed with textbooks, a notepad, and a pen, I began learning my third language after German and English, immersing myself in a world I had chosen for myself. As Ludwig Wittgenstein wrote: The limits of my language mean the limits of my world. Amen, brother.

Come With Me

The first time I saw you, you were sitting in the middle of Alexanderplatz. Huddled together, unwashed, with greasy hair, you hid behind a cardboard sign scrawled with a message that pierced straight through me: I’m homesick. I sat on a staircase a few meters away. You were crying, and people walked past as if you didn’t exist - or worse, avoided you like you were the filth of society. Some downright despised you. Spring hadn’t fully arrived yet, and the evenings were growing colder. I couldn’t bear to look at your miserable face any longer. So, I got up and walked toward you. Come with me. I’ll buy you dinner, I said. At first, you resisted my help. You resisted me.

City of Bears

Welcome to Kumamoto, a city nestled in the westernmost part of Japan on the beautiful island of Kyushu. Known as the City of Bears, this charming locale will be my cozy home for the next six months as I embark on my exciting semester abroad at the Faculty of Design at the private and prestigious Sojo University. Here, I hope to refine my skills in typography, illustration, and computer graphics - though, of course, I sometimes wonder if there’s much left to improve. Waiting for laughs. I’m staying in a dormitory with other exchange students from around the world, about twenty minutes from the university’s main campus and another ten minutes from the creative art campus.