Dérives: Goethe Dies (Strasbourg)

Found something to re-blog.
Adam writes about escaping from the looming disappointment of Brexit while trying to shake his glootm by taking in the beauty of Strasbourg. Brexit feels like an unseen oppression, a daemon shadowing Adam as he tries to process his disappointment with forgetting.
i once hitchhiked through Strasbourg, so this articles caught my eye.

Celluloid Wicker Man

It came with a great sense of relief that, on the 29th of March, I had a plane to catch.  This plane that I was to catch on the afternoon of the 29th was heading to Strasbourg; a visit to ma chérie and an escape from the 29th of March or what the 29th of March now represented which was everything contrary to reason.  Exactly a week before, it was the anniversary of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s death, dying 185 years ago to the day of apparent heart failure, the disputed last words of Goethe just before he died being a simple request for more light.  Visiting Strasbourg was my request for more light or, perhaps more accurately, an escape from the darkness of stupidity and delusion that I now increasingly associate with my homeland.  Upon arriving to Strasbourg, my shame – for it was a…

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