Original Language

This is not just a translation. It’s an experiment.
If you’ve read this text in German – read it again in English. See what shifts. See what stays. See what disappears. Because sometimes, the language we use changes the way we feel truth.

Why English Feels Clearer Than German

I read something.

A paragraph hits me – but not because of its words.

On the contrary: I don’t really understand it.

Something irritates me.

I have to pause. Reflect. Search.

And suddenly:

Something clicks.

Not because I’ve found the meaning –

but because I’ve gotten lost.

Like driving a car.

I don’t notice that I’ve taken a wrong turn.

But then I’m somewhere else.

I discover something new.

I get inspired.

What If There’s No Real Understanding?

It’s the productive misunderstanding.

That moment when you think you’ve grasped it –

only to realize later that you were wrong.

And from that, something new begins.

I contemplate in English.

Not because I speak it better –

but because it brings me closer to something.

German is my mother tongue

But when it comes to depth – to insight –

I write in English.

Not because it’s easier.

Maybe because it’s less charged.

English feels naked to me

Not just simple – but unprotected, transparent, clear.

No residue. No tonal history.

German never comes alone.

Every word brings its past.

Tone. Weight. Memory.

They cling to the syllables like emotional molecules.

Language as Packaging – or Portal?

It’s supposed to carry meaning.

But sometimes, the packaging gets in the way of the content.

German often feels like a gift

carefully wrapped by someone who means well –

with silk paper, wax seal, handwritten card.

Every layer asks to be appreciated.

But sometimes I don’t want to admire.

I want to arrive.

I want to know what’s inside –

without folding my way through layers of significance.

English is different.

Less drama. Fewer ribbons.

Just a cardboard box. You open it – and there it is.

Clear. Direct. Not a spectacle. But real.

I don’t need technology to write.

I need it

to not be misunderstood.

Words used to slow me down.

Now digital tools help me

be as precise as possible.

I only read books in the original

I don’t want someone standing between me and the author.

I want their frequency – not the filtered translation.

I used to have every dictionary app imaginable.

Now AI explains more than just a word.

I can decode the meaning behind it.

I’m often wrong.

It used to feel like a break.

Now it’s a new direction.

Many people fear the imagination of Chat GPT.

I love those glitches in the matrix.

Because maybe they’re not mistakes –

maybe they’re just another perspective.

One that lives far beyond my small box.

German is my nervous system

German goes straight in.

No filter. No buffer.

A shortcut into my autonomous system.

My body reacts on autopilot.

Fight, Flight, Freeze –

triggered by a single word.

Connected to a whole network of emotion.

I have no control over it.

English is my sunglasses

English creates distance.

Not coldness – but space.

I can think without being summoned.

Feel without being flooded.

Write without being triggered.

Without internal agitation.

I don’t think in English.

But I recognize something there.

I don’t know why this happens.

I can’t explain it.

I’ll keep observing…

Sometimes, truth doesn’t speak your mother tongue.

Sometimes, it’s only accessible in the original.

Not because of the language –

but because of the frequency behind it.

And that frequency can’t be wrapped in words.

You don’t need a new house.
Just one piece of furniture placed somewhere else.
Same room. New perspective.

Perhaps some things only work in one language.

Perhaps they’re not meant to be translated.

Perhaps they’re just meant to vibrate.

The truth isn’t always bilingual 😜