Florian Lukas

Of course I could ponder what it means that I always feel like wanting to leave again. And if, deep inside, I don't wish for the feeling of finally having come home, after all. But each time I have arrived somewhere, I feel like leaving for somewhere else after some time.

I can remember the P.E. classes during my school days well. When we were outside on the sports ground, I saw Pan Am planes in the sky. They were headed for countries I would never visit. I wanted to sit in one of these planes. To simply get out of here, without a particular destination. I still feel like doing that. I am lucky because I travel a lot due to my job. It only gets difficult if I don't know where I am upon waking up. Like a few years ago - back then I was commuting between Berlin, Hamburg and Munich because of various movie productions and theatrical performances. During this time I once dreamed that I was walking through the streets naked and completely disoriented. I felt incredibly alone and helpless. After waking up I immediately had to fold back the blanket to make sure I was wearing clothes.

Most of my dreams I forget quite soon even if they had been very realistic. By noon at the latest I won't be able to remember them. I also never obsessed over any ideas, but rather let things happen as they came. For some time I had been wondering what could be causing this. If, perhaps, it had anything to do with my GDR roots and the fixed world I grew up in and which then, suddenly, imploded and vanished. When the Wall fell, I was 16. And of course I had realized earlier that nothing they had been telling us was true. But that the whole country would vanish had, up to that point, been inconceivable. So, I learned early on that nothing is valid, nothing can be relied on and things may always turn out differently than imagined. I do not perceive this realization as a setback, but as a deep understanding.

As a child, I had trouble falling asleep. It became a real problem in kindergarten. Those who slept would receive a reward after waking up, the kindergarten teachers would put a bonbon next to their beds. Only I never received one because I would always lie down on my cot made of pressboard with my eyes open, waiting to finally have permission to get up. Awful. Nowadays, I still feel like I'm missing out on something when I'm asleep. If I don't have to get up early the next morning, I am like a six year old child: An incredibly long time will pass until I can get myself to go to bed. I hate having a lie-down. To me, it feels like dying. Yet I am not even particularly nocturnal. Actually, I've never been going out much. But I can sit around, drink, smoke and read for ages during evenings. I like it when my surroundings are quiet, the morning is dawning and I am still awake.

If I do the same thing on two days, it bores me.

I am always a bit doubtful. I don't have any life goals, no big dreams or wishes. I prefer letting myself get surprised by life. So far, I have been lucky.