Siebenkäs

Say what you will, but since the Richie again more in
He's changed somehow. Not only;
he's always quoting wildly - Strindberg, Brecht,
Schnitzler, Bernhard... nothing is' safe from him. Even otherwise
he seems to me somehow different.
The other day we met in our regular café and I..
i notice that he smells of something interesting
I bit closer to him and just say, "Wow!"
He looks at me in amazement.
"Gentlemen, you are good!"
"Well, I don't know...today I haven't done a good deed
accomplished..."
"Quark! I mean, how quickly you realized that..."
"How do you like...?"
"Well, the perfume! What else?"
"I did? Fine. Well, I think it's quite good, soft and
discreet, but also somehow peculiar..."
"You dumbass, that's "Wow" by old Joop..."
Honestly am now only times briefly speechless.
Had the sometime tested and as weak
in memory.
"Really now...?
"Sure! Wow is kind of a borderline. Raynaud,
he can cross borders quite well. See also at L'Eau d'Issey.
First seemingly a harmless freshman and then a
secret powerhouse even with some edge. And
Violets he can do too. Look at Simply, there's the
Violet is as elegantly fitted as the cuts of the good Jil.
"You've got a point there..."
Now Richie's really getting into a dozing mood.
"Anyway, the wow kind of rummages in all the terrains,
but he never puts his foot in his mouth. Somehow
he always scrapes just before the curve somewhere else. Freshness
with bergamot is quickly turned with cardamom in the direction
Edible turned, but then from violets downright
verblümt, and rather tart, not directly fahrenheitig,
but in a similar spirit. Only -so that also does not remain,
because a fine spiciness or resinousness smuggles
i'm thinking of Potion, a kind of magic balm
Magic Balsam, if's de so want. In addition still forest
romanticism with some fir character. But before it's too
clear, is also circumnavigated again, now by wood and
some vanilla.
I sniff now but again a little more closely at the good
Richie.
"And without the usual 100 times-gerochene Woody-Amber-
sweetness," I add, not without very slight euphoria.
"Exactly! Almost creamy for that. Cosy one calls that but
gladly, at least in home magazines. Although the bad word
"Cashmeran on the package insert is..
"Well, in the end, such things are just words..."
"Anyway, it's also strangely versatile, you can almost always
wear, like a parka. Or a kind of shirt jacket..."
"No, the right word is rather passepartout," I
interject."
"Exactly!"
"And another thing - it's somehow neither quite synthetic
nor quite natural...rather synthetic ornatural..."
"I can understand that. Man, Richie, I think about the
i've judged too quickly..."
"Don't worry about it. You won't be real smart until you learn..
to stop falling for your own tricks."
"Where did you get that from again?"
"Never mind. What's special, by the way, is the radiation
behavior. I would not directly call sillage, the
creates more so an aura, very pleasant, never penetrating.
Subliminal, but still somewhere perceptible, an
Atmosphere of mild woody-creamy semi-sweetness, a
bit like a childhood memory of a bakery-
breath...
"Poet-Richie I shall call you from now on..."
"Oh, what..."
"Just that name... "Wow", it's really uh...
slightly stupid...", I can't help but
to remark.
"Maybe "Boah Ey" would have been better. If already,
then already..."
"Yeah, maybe. But not as an edt or edp. Only as Absolut.
And then pronounced in German and in fashionable small
spelling...
"Right. "boah ey absolut!" That's what I'm talking about..."
"Right, with an exclamation mark!"

Now he reaches into his inside pocket and pulls out..
the bottle, which is still quite full.
"Here - I'll give you this!"
"Excuse me? And you...?"
"I'll get a new one later. It doesn't cost that much."
"Really? Gentlemen... thank you!"
"You know, I always think of that line..."
"Which one do you mean?"
"Of all I had, all I had left was what I gave away..."
"Nice closing, Richie!"
"Thank you!"
"I have to say thank you, but really!"
"Aw shucks! I've got to go now... take care!"
Already he's putting on his sailor jacket, tapping
taps me on the shoulder and disappears

They stood around in the courtyard in their grey felt robes,
again, one leaning against the other, in silence,
waiting.
The walls of the houses were grey, as were the shops of the
Windows, the frames and the doors. Grey were the pavement
and the small walls, the benches in front of the grey parks-
areas and grey on grey the lettering on the prohibitions-
describe. Grey were the tubs in which grey trees
and grey was also the exit, which led out
into the wide, gently shimmering grey landscape.
C11 put his hand on his jacket and felt the firm,
round shape of the flacon. All of a sudden he saw it in front of him,
he didn't even have to bring it out. A perfect
Foreign matter. Cylindrical, salmon-coloured or rosè, perhaps
also mauve. He knew many such wonderful colour-
names from the Forbidden Books. And warm he seemed
to be as if a heart was beating inside him.
All of a sudden the effect kicked in. The scent she first
a few minutes ago, began to apply it
...to lift it up. First only a small piece, then more,
over the grey ground, over to the other one
Page.
What carried him, safe and reliable, was a strange
familiar melange of warm spices, a light
sweet breath of kitchen luck and herbal secrets,
from loving baking secrets and old grandmothers
know. A brownish-orange world where he is gently
without knowing where he actually was.

Only now he noticed not far from himself M24, which is in
in her own little scent.
He knew that it was a slightly different kind of magic that made her
uplifted, comparable perhaps with another,
no less powerful fuel. He knew these games-
type of elixir almost as good as his preferred one, the
spicy warm. For her it was this certain, strange
encouraging freshness that she took with her. A freshness,
which at the same time reminded her of her father's shaving rituals,
and which carried something blue-green with it, but in which also
soft golden and ochre scents floated.
And which led them back to long gone
School routes, where the only pleasant thing is a little
red gumball machine. Which was kind of illegal
the effect of sweet-fresh, artificial minty of the colourful
Gum balls loved them both. Just like the
comforting power of cloves and this not directly
tangible, tender-elegant sweetness, which at the same time reminds of flowers
and reminded me of simple childhood dessert pleasures.
Something powdery-floating was to be something at once
Light and heavy, which had the power to take them out of the
Gray to kidnap.
Whether the one who provided them with the powerful substance, supplied
put herself in great danger, she cared little.
Also not whether something completely different is behind it
could.
She also didn't care much that he
"Spice Blend." They just called him "Blend" -
because it sounded so beautiful. And because they were so dazzled
by the colors of the other side. But also because it
just sounded so wonderfully friendly.
And certainly that wasn't an incorrect name for something,
which will always be soft to you as with a soft shutter
opened the access to another world again.
A world that gave you the opportunity again and again,
to get to know someone totally new.
Yourself.
And so each time they swept a little bit stronger and
more relaxed. The grey seemed to them to be a little less
to be monotonous and depressing, they could with a
Sometimes subtle differences can be detected. And so they began
to give it names - stone grey, field grey, mouse grey,
old iron grey and hair grey, wood grey, skin grey, light grey
and leaf grey.
After every trip to the other side with her double-
bödigkeit of warming, sweet and toasty spice and
self-confident freshness, the something anti-authoritarian, almost
more subversive, they found the gray less mono-
chrome, less colourless, less intense.
And in the same measure the other one appeared to them
Side to gradually become a little paler.
It was as if the bowls of a scale were slowly
...to get out of the city.
And so they wandered back and forth as needed and
became older and more satisfied, calmer and more sedate.
Little by little the contrasts between the
Worlds softer and more blurred, like the pictures
in a never-ending crossfade.
But a smooth, inconspicuous greyish grey crept in />
clothed being - the forgetting.

And the big TJB23, third largest in its sign
algorithmic core, leaned back satisfied
back. Yes, he could probably be satisfied, because once
more he had been able to close a leak, from which only to
were happy to escape unpredictable wishes.

And yet, unnoticed, unremarkable and
hidden, they still remained, patiently waiting -
the untrodden paths, unfelt feelings and
undreamed of dreams.

Well, today I'll tell you something else, even if it's not..
probably no one at this table will believe me
Never mind. Outside it's cold and foggy and where do you want to go?
there. Just listen to me for a while
Everyone of you knows the fat Kärnmeyer. Money like hay,
thick villa, 4 garages, own miniature golf course. You know what I mean
all by yourself.
But how could it actually come to this?
How could he do that, as the son of bitterly poor people?

It all started in the drugstore arbitrariness. There he was
employed, as a small apprentice. Shy, clumsy,
anxious. His great passion, his only escape-
gone was the reading, he was devouring books.
Preferably crime novels, often economic crime.
Even though some of them were quite disturbing.
He sometimes feared, the whole human civilization
could go down and with it the possibility of refill-
to get rolls for his silver tape dispenser.
I can tell you one thing, though - most of what he read,
he didn't understand half of it anyway. But what hardly bothered him, im
The opposite. It only made the appeal of reading for him
more irresistible.
So one day he shuffles through the most
empty business premises, while his boss, the old
Arbitrariness, sitting at the cash register, reading the picture and his
Apprentice no further attention. It's in the perfume-
department where there is the most to see. All the splendor-
full and mysterious flacons! Today he is out
in an adventurous mood for some reason.
He grabs a square bottle with "Terre d'Hermès
Eau de Toilette" is written. Terre - earth. He still knows that from
a quiz book.
And already he gives himself a few targeted spray shots
on chest and neck.
And then, practically immediately, it seizes him - almost like a
Shock. His first perfume experience. He smells and sniffs
and listens to himself. Finds no words, no
Terms for what's been fogging him up.
Only mute amazement.
No pale idea that the scent might be the
is Ellena's greatest masterpiece. That over the years
has perfected, always going into detail anew
is to make it a little bit more perfect. And
again slightly. But now. No, you could
until finally there was a perfume that you could use when you're on the road
you want to be considered almost too perfect.
But not necessarily.
The typical Ellena's or also Hermès' dry,
almost austere, a little leathery, elegant, almost
arrogant citric. Directly from their middle comes a
still almost overripe fruitiness, which in fast motion
matures to patinated woodiness, without the freshness of the beginning
to lose. Is that even wood? Or patchouli?
Or is Vetiver paving the way?
It doesn't matter: it's not that simple anyway.
A lot of Iso E-Super is involved.
And certainly not just any one. It's one that..
Ellena was worthy of Terre. And it is
Makes everything unpredictable, sometimes there, sometimes here.
Different day, different mood, different weather -
...that's all right with me. And yet there remains the
Terre character. Unwavering, severe and soft,
bitter and sweet. Fresh, young and very ripe.
His own standard. And not a clone of a
Clone from a clone.
Is it any wonder that many love him?
That he can't remain "exclusive"?
Quite simply because he has a ship swing brake just as
can inspire, like one for whom between the kind,
how Lang Lang plays the Goldberg Variations and the sage
like Glenn Gould did, universes lie
And isn't that wonderful?

Of course, our Kärnmeyer didn't think about all this
Just a second. He didn't really think, he just felt
And felt different about himself. A little more courageous,
a little more curious. A slightly different Kernmeyer
There was a word he hadn't understood in
the book he was reading. Well, it was more than one
But this one seemed more important to him than the others.
Why not just ask the boss?
He'd never done that before. Not once
He'd be surprised.
So off to the cash desk - with Terre on the side.
"Mr. Arbitrary, what does "double
Accounting"?
Silence. Stepped in, frightened silence.
If you could smell fear... but Terre was anyway
stronger.
I'll make it short. Basically, you know yourself how it is
continued. Shortly afterwards, Kärnmeyer was the managing director.
Arbitrariness found shelter in Lichtenstein and soon after
kärnmeyer bought his second drugstore. And
his third. And so on and so forth

I can tell by looking at you - you want to know if the
History is true. But is that so important?
Certainly not true is that perfume people really
can influence, even manipulate.
But the truth is that perfume makes us feel better about our
give ourselves and release the lines from our dreams
can. So that they become free.
Our imagination gets a tail wind, possibilities
become visible. We're getting roots. And wings
Maybe this way we can reach the state that is most suitable for humans
is appropriate: the head high in heaven and the feet
firmly on the - Earth.

Today I want to tell you how I felt the other day with the baby-
Sitten ergehen. Well - "baby" is not quite the word.
Max and Lottchen are four and five.
Not that you think I'm doing this for money - it's just that it's not
...for a purely ceremonial act of friendship. The parents are old
Friends and I was honestly a little honored;
that they turned to me. Especially since the two
are a little wild at times. (I mean of course Max
and Lottchen.)
After dinner (which, except for one torn out
Bonsai went smoothly) and a little bit of television ("Bauer
is looking for a wife") the two of them finally lay in their floor-
Crib.
"Tell us another story!" shouted Max from above
"But a very long..." Lottchen agrees with him
"All right..." I'll make myself comfortable on the edge of the bed
"Once upon a time, there was a perfume..."
"What kind?"
"Easy, Lottchen. None from your mama. So - it was a
beautiful morning, the sun laughed and morning fresh and
...our Man Pure went out into the world.
That was his name. Lightly floral-powdery aromas
mixed with fine hesperides accompanied it, because the
were his own in his quite pretty, bauhaus-
inspired clothing.
"No armor at all..
"Not really, Maxie, but it's a great advantage
adhesive robe. The sun rose higher in the sky...
"What company?"
"Quiet now! So - it became warmer and now they were moving
quite lively the elements and nature spirits of the green,
cheerful dwarf herb meadow. But behind - still good
hidden, a gentle but deep
Hum...
"Maybe my Zotti...?"
"No, Lottchen, no. It was a fine, mossy chypre-
Bass. Straight from the Enchanted Forest. Because in the gings now
lively forbass straight into it. And of course there are also >br />
some wild animals you can smell. But no
I'm afraid they're very nice. The deeper Man Pure into the forest
...the more you get. There's a goblin doing his
Little fires with wood and birch tar and all kinds of other things.
And some sweets are somewhere under mossy
Stones hidden, somewhere in the unfathomable depths
of the Sander Forest.
Of course, the good perfume also experiences a few
Adventure, but surely you are more interested in the
olfactory profile.
You don't have to think of the whole fragrance experience now as
imagine a big mess like in your room
before cleaning up. No, it's all in perfect harmony with itself-
understandable and easy with each other. The easy thing is, like you
you know, always the hardest. And there are angular transitions
it's not here at all. Everything is perfectly blended and
seems so effortless and natural. That something earthy,
of still real oakmoss and patchouli radiating
can our hero skillfully through almost bee-honey
Keep the labdanum in check. And this is typical for our
Man Pure - it keeps all the different traits
from fresh over spicy, floral, woody and earthy to almost
moulds in calm, well balanced.
Completely unsynthetic and sovereign. Typical sign of the zodiac
Scales, if you ask me. Interesting topic -
which sign of the zodiac have scents - don't you think?
But further in the woods - later it hits the evil fairy Ifra,
but I'll tell you about it some other time
And as a result, it's... but let's not do that.
Nowadays perfume is only available for expensive money. To the
Example on ebay, with much, much luck in Mint Condition.
A strange ending for a fairy tale, but you know how it is
also what Mr. Geiger says - overcome unbiased
the fairy tale the hurdles of our present consciousness
limitation of being, it knows for the eternal being of the
People, his entelechy, an "Once upon a time",
but leads him through a "here and now" into a
"Once upon a time" over. You should, by the way, more often
read fairy tales yourself. And in general - a lot, very
a lot of reading. It took me decades to learn things
that I could have read in 10 minutes.
So, next time maybe I'll tell you about the br />
Difference between the smell of molecular
Shapes and the perception of quantum-based
Vibration differences, kids. Kids...? Hello...
Maxie... Lotti..
Suddenly I realize how quiet it is. Just a
touchingly tender breathing and panting can be heard.
How easy it is to bring children to rest when
you just respond to them a little bit.
Very quietly and on tiptoe I sneak out
the room...

Come a little closer, said the darkness.

I don't know why, Encre.

Aren't you a child of mine? asked the darkness

Whatever gave you that idea, Encre replied.
How very wrong you are
I carry the scent of wood, the aura of trees
And it is the essence of the trees that I want to convey.
Rooted in the dark, in fertile soil, often deep.
But only to strive high and with the branches
to play in the brightness of the sky.
Walking in the light. Conscious of you
I carry the scent of the grass, which is flatter in the dark
roots, but also likes to play in the wind.
And I love surprises. For example, by
i radiate an unexpected freshness long after you have been
sprayed me
I wear my name because paper is white
And in order to spread a bright message, it takes
a dark color. That's all.

You are strange, said the darkness. You're strange, said the darkness
and yet you are a stranger to me

I carry within me the fragile idea of grass, Encre.
You can call it vetiver. I'm not grieving.
I'm not saying-- stop it.
I say - Go ahead. I give the green light

Are you playing with me? asked the darkness. Do you like to play
with fire? Or rather with ashes?

I don't know, Encre said.

I cannot stay much longer, said the darkness
a little sad.

I know, replied ENCRE cheerfully, the sun is going
soon up.