Brown coffee grounds

I open the balcony door, a gentle breath of cold February wind brushes my face
and ventilates my room. I step outside and stretch my head towards the sun.
A delicate, warm feeling stirs in my face and I take a sip
of coffee. I sit down on the pallet bench on the balcony and remember that
it's been almost exactly a year.
A year since the Correctiv investigation was published and hundreds of thousands of
people went out to demonstrate. I wouldn't even claim that all of them
were left-wing, they simply had a spark of human understanding in their heads, which
one can claim of few people at the moment. A year ago, it was spoken of as
Germany's largest demonstrations since the fall of the Berlin Wall. You have to
let that sink in. Such an incredibly large mass
and nothing political has happened. Nothing.
Soon I'm meeting up to demonstrate again. Again hundreds of thousands of
people are going out and again, I'm sure of it, there will be no political consequences.
A brief euphoric rush, nice images and that's it then. I
take another sip of my coffee.
Recently Julia Klöckner dismissed the demonstrators as left-wing extremists.
Huh? I think there's no need to dwell on that any longer. That the
problems of society should not be made the fault of individuals should not be a re-
volutionary demand. Still, instead of trying to counter acute right-wing
violence, it is being played into. Right-wing hate is being implemented, by almost
all parties. The attempt to curb migration and deport people
will hardly be the solution to right-wing murders.
Sorry, wait, I need to go throw up for a moment.
Actually, I don't want to address specific points right now, it's been said often enough
that patterns are showing and societal structures are reminiscent of the last
century. How the debate, the political content has shifted to the right over the last
few years. We all know that (left-wing) demonstrations
and migration are not the problem. Tell me that we all know that.
A glance at my phone, at the news and the relaxed morning is over.
The thoughts tangle together and I sit there, with a bitter remnant of coffee
grounds in my mouth. Helpless, coughing away the grounds and shaking away fear, the sun
still shines in my face. It doesn't help anyway. It's never enough.
Demonstrating, voting, sitting alone on the balcony and mourning the political situation
everywhere. My sadness brings me nothing, it brings you nothing.
And then I feel my blood flowing through my veins and my heart beating faster.
The effect of the coffee? The result of my thoughts about Merz, Klöckner, Scholz?
The faces of Weidel and Wagenknecht before my eyes? The sadness is gone. What
remains is the fire in me, in my burning veins. No more patience for brown
coffee grounds, no more patience for you lot. A quick scream into the pillow, a bit of punk
music in my ears and then network, do more. Balcony door closed, coffee cup in
the sink, shoes on and then out of here.

– Comment written by Antonia Duscheleit