Berlin is (not) a construction site

00:00:00: Outcast.

00:00:08: The whole Berlin is a site of construction.

00:00:44: What does the newcomer, a vagabond from outer realms notice when coming to Berlin?

00:00:49: What IS Berlin all about for those who were born and raised in it?

00:00:57: Construction The sounds and sights of constant self reshaping, skyscraper-ishly rising above life in its living.

00:01:10: When circling around the futuristic fountain & world clock one can easily hear at least half a dozen melodies... ...and clearly over a dozen languages.

00:01:20: But take step toward one shopping malls, hotels or transport station And the cacophony of noise kills music completely.

00:01:31: An old place of trade, an almost medieval crossroad Of numerous destinies, drowns in the screams The giraffes of metal make And the growls of large machines Pouring concrete.

00:01:44: The longer you watch and listen The more you become involved In a quasi-life This everlasting building process.

00:01:51: You get used to the rhythm.

00:01:52: We find it beautiful.

00:01:54: Like the artists of formalism did a century ago The monarch can swirl in the windows to music of concrete and steel.

00:02:02: The forests of iron trees grow quickly, like a strange uncanny fairytale.

00:02:12: A billboard on Alexander Platt states We are construction.

00:02:18: Another one says The whole Berlin is aside from construction.

00:02:25: The old square is full of attractions, exhibitions & museums.

00:02:29: It hosts people in hotels, apartments and living containers, and feeds you with all kinds of dishes & cultures.

00:02:37: Someone struggles to busk a few euros for themselves in their dogs while others seek the most popular inexpensive brands of shoes.

00:02:47: A tram passes by... ...a Christmas carousel turns its wheel of fortune.

00:02:52: An S-Bahn train takes high soprano note as it departs from the overground station.

00:02:58: The world clock counts another minute And Another One.

00:03:06: The more time passes, the stranger it gets as newer and newer sites of construction emerge like a mushroom fruit.

00:03:17: At certain point its no longer about self-restoration, self reconstruction or self improvement.

00:03:23: for city with a blooded history... ...the square almost becomes prisoner of its transportation lines A victim Of high tower needles As if someone constantly dictates No, you don't look beautiful enough, gyeong-enough, selen-ing-enought.

00:03:46: You have to be shinier bigger tighter!

00:03:50: YOU HAVE TO MAKE MORE MONEY WITH THE APPEARANCE HONEY OR ELSE THEY WON'T BUY FROM YOU.

00:03:56: But what is left when the most is remained?

00:04:01: When everything's structured, formalized, well boarded all construction becomes a thing of its own... ...when even the winds become heralds for constant automatic change history, and histories risk vanishing.

00:04:21: That's why when coming to Alexanderplatz I look less up... ...and more to the ground In search of old bricks, stumbling stones & street art.. ..I learn to listen to the quietest stories Within the chaos or forced megapalization.... ....I'll loop for corners & doors that aren't yet vanished.

00:04:43: Where there is so much recommersed civilization I search for revitalization.

00:04:52: Who does the city belong to?

00:04:56: Why, Does a City exist at all ?

00:05:00: Does it serve its dwellers ?

00:05:03: Does It sing in unison with them?

00:05:04: ?

00:05:05: Is The City a slave , A friend or foe?

00:05:08: ?

00:05:09: What are people of the city and who Are?

00:05:12: they will be noticed when They're gone .

00:05:20: The simple posters With missing People are small And plain.

00:05:25: The chalk masterpieces get vanished off every morning.

00:05:31: Do the monikens outlive their living?

00:05:34: Does this skyscraper construction overpower the construction of true warmth between two

00:05:39: beings?".

00:05:41: The clock strikes again, and the s-bunded parts and another arrives on the trams and cranes try to out scream each other.

00:05:50: A huge lorry full of construction waste moves down the street.

00:05:55: a small company of people goes into a spate to buy drinks and get wasted.

00:06:01: Buskers with voices cracked from cold sing their songs as if they were the last songs on planet earth, its smells of gluvain marzipan ,and the coca-calaeus patron saint o'the new year.

00:06:15: it's smells of tiredness time and change with no purpose that space gets broken again...again..and again And within the last forest of human lives, An inhuman redeplication.

00:06:36: I breathe Berlin.

00:06:37: Stainless spine and a flash Of souls on their armor of concrete On the balance of sails under The sales of hope... ...I don't know how to end this text Because this process This fight never ends!

00:06:57: And so does Berlin.

00:06:59: When we're gone There will still be construction.

00:07:03: I'm not sure any of us will be there to fight them.

00:07:07: But they'll be constructions only as long... ...as their are people loved.

00:07:16: Berlin isn't a construction site.

00:07:19: It never was, it's its people Those singing songs Running late doing errands Dreaming researching fighting Making mistakes making things work and getting done Done.

00:07:40: If I can't count myself as one of your people, dear friend.

00:07:44: I look into the showcase Of one of you shopping malls at Alexanderplatz.

00:07:53: Near the long needle of a TV tower I see my face's reflection on The body of a mannequin.

00:08:02: A tram rings its bells... ...a church rings.

00:08:08: it's mass.

00:08:11: My face doesn't move at all.