I just got a memory back from 1975, when I used a Polaroid camera from my parents and took a couple shots. I had long hair, and a strange with circles - typically 70s - and took selfie indoors in the stairwell. (it is the same shirt you see in the photo above with my stepmother)

Of course the Polaroid strongly underexposed - because i had absolutely no idea of that the light wasn't enough. Apparently i didn't use flash either - and I am not even sure if the camera had flash... The camera lens' aperture was way to small (often around ƒ14), which for indoor use is not sufficient bright. (As with todays Fujifilm Instax cameras, usually use ƒ12 or ƒ 14 as the working aperture). I am not talking about their digital hybrid Instax cameras, which work differently, and are in the basics digital cameras.

Yeah, I can see the old Polaroid images clearly in my head now. 10 years of age. And a strange feeling in my body, like somebody who is stiff instead of relaxed. Like a kind of false, artificial pride. A feeling from within, unfree and quirky in its emotional nature.


Orphanage in Henstedt-Rehn, north of Hamburg

I just had moved from the Orphanage north of Hamburg to Berlin to my parents (stepmother), after my mother killed herself at an age of 28 in Berlin, while I was unknowingly living for a year in an orphanage located north of Hamburg (God heavens knows why she had sent me all the way there). The village was called Henstedt-Rehn, and not far away from the river Alster's spring.

Today Rehn had 5900 citizens in the year of 2011.

The surrounding was and is filled with moors and swamps

I remember. And it was a rather strange times at the Orphanage, yet also a time which was better compared to the pretentious hellhole of my Father and psycho stepmother in Berlin. I had no idea what would roll out in the upcoming 5 years. But in 1975 at an age of 10, I was just super happy to have a "family" again, when I left Hamburg. The first 6 months where very nice indeed. Kind of like a dream. A false dream, where even the nasty one are still pretentiously nice, beautiful and give you attention.

Like playing with a new toy.

Until they got bored, and starting showing their true nature - it gets bad. And it went really, really bad. A Psycho hell hole is no understatement. That's when you wished you could run away. Which I then finally did in the age of 15, almost 16. Went to the authorities in order to come to an orphanage called "Wadtzeck-Stiftung" in Lichterfelde Berlin. Where i lived between Jan 1982 until 16 April 1984.

Wadzeck-Stiftung, "Group 5"
Berlin Lichterfelde

The front of the main building towards Drakestraße. This was mainly the office building in 1983 (Herr Gizzy, Hr Spuck), Shrink (Frau Schultze) and meeting rooms

The back building where our group lived; called "Group 5" at the highest floor where the kids had all their rooms. We had kitchen and everything there - like a very large apartment complex with many rooms. I have many memories from here. Good and bad. But overall I would say good memories.
I believe I was the only kid ever, who left to move abroad out of Germany. Well it as a bold step even for me, believe me.


Dec 1983 inside "Group 5" with Tina and three of the kids; Andy Baache, Andreas and the third boy i don't remember.


18th birthday (13 march 1984)

The kids made a big thing out of my 18th birthday, in the most beautiful way, creating presents with handmade creations. I was completely baffled and super happy about how they all gathered together for this. Truly amazing. Funny that I still have photos of it - because overall - I have almost no photos left from my early past up until let's sat 21 of age.


During the last months

before I moved to Sweden (in the age of 18) i lived all alone in the middle floor. They knew very well that I was a bird about to fly out and quite the personality of my own. Not in ego terms, but in terms of showing strong signs of going my own way (not that it felt that way for me - but in hindsight, I see that did go my own way compared to the other kids) This lead to a gradual, natural separation process from the group kids during the months before i finally left the place in order to move to Stockholm.

17 April 1984

I came to Stockholm, in the age of 18. I had absolutely no idea of anything in Sweden. Stockholm, language, people or ruling system. *LOL* It was however a totally different Sweden, compared to how it is like in Sweden today in 2024.

Like two different worlds.

I wonder about what became out of the kids from Group 5 ?

I have not the slightest idea what became of them. And I wonder, really wonder... Andreas, Werner, Holger, and all the others... I've never been able to located them via internet.


Oh, there is that; Google

Well, Google is now so bad in just about everything, that you get everything else, but not what you wish to search for. Not even close (other than consumption oriented stuff, where you get plenty of "the latest shit", you name it).

It is a disaster how the search engines have developed in the past 15 years.

But... it was never the goal for Google to be of true service to the people. You need to understand the hidden player beyond Google - have nothing to do with what it appeared or was advertised to be in public.

Well there is that.



Speaking about different worlds
Sweden 1984 vs 2024

Here are a couple really fun, deeply cynical "reviews" about Sweden (only in swedish language, though). Petra is amazing when she delivers her pucks / humpbacks to the audience about Today's Sweden.


Petra's puckar 6 (2024)
Swedish language


Petra's puckar 8 (2024)
Swedish language

81 / 2024