Conti Campus Summer Festival 2024. Dancing Barefoot for the First Time. Gwen, a friend for 10 minutes.

June 1, 2024. I woke up around 8 AM and lay in my sleeping bag for a while. What I've noticed is that after a day when I've had a long conversation with someone, like yesterday with Johanna, I have less desire for sex. I feel much more balanced, somehow full. It’s clear that I don't crave sex itself, but rather good conversations with people. However, relationships would be even more enriching if one could combine intimate conversations with hugs, tenderness, cuddling, and snuggling.

After trimming my beard, washing my underwear and T-shirt, and sweeping my room, I headed to campus around 10:30 AM. I left my backpack and laptop at home; today will be a nice laptop-free day.

I wore barefoot shoes because I was afraid someone would step on my feet with so many people at the summer festival, or that I wouldn’t be able to dance freely.

Near the E-Damm, a cyclist had fallen. I ran straight to the young man and helped him up. Continuing on my way, I tried to call Natalie. It rang, but then went to voicemail.

On the deserted Conti campus, where everything had already been set up for the summer festival, I locked away my long shirt, a condom I received at the CSD festival, and my socks in a locker. I kept my barefoot shoes on and strolled slowly into the city center.

Voluntary doctors stood in a circle with posters in hand around the Schiller statue. It was a demonstration against factory farming. The poster had the address "probiers-jetzt.de" at the bottom, which I noted down in my notes app.

At the Kröpcke clock, five men played various musical instruments in solid-colored suits. It seemed to be a band. I must have arrived just at the end of their musical performance because they stopped playing and singing.

“We’ll meet there at a quarter to twelve,” the man in the pink suit pointed in a specific direction, “we’ll continue playing at the opera square,” he said with a slight Italian accent.

I approached a photographer who had been taking pictures of the band the whole time with a huge DSLR camera.

“Hey, do you know what's happening at the opera square today?”

“Today is the Europe Festival. There are various information booths, music, and small events,” she explained cheerfully.

I thanked her and first went to the Hugendubel, where I treated myself to a vegan strawberry milkshake while reading the book by Eckhart Tolle.

While reading, I learned something: impatience, irritability, and nervousness are also forms of negativity that cause unnecessary suffering. My impatience is quite pronounced. After my stay at the Hugendubel, I bought a bottle of "Wostok Limo" and headed to the opera square.

There were indeed many information booths at the opera square. I stopped briefly in front of a small stage where four girls dressed in black were performing a tap dance. Immediately, I thought of Johanna, the enthusiastic cyclist I met yesterday.

I walked past the information booths, which informed about the history of the EU in various European countries. A woman smiled at me. She seemed to want something from me.

“Why is Europe important to you?” she asked as I stopped in front of her.

“Good question. I need to think about it for a moment.”

She gave me a card on which I could write my response and drop it into a mailbox.

I stood at a table, took a card, and wrote: “No intra-European wars and travel without border controls and visas.”

I dropped the card into the mailbox and moved on. I stopped in front of the main stage where the five musicians were playing. I listened to them for a while and then went back to the Kröpcke clock. I leaned against the wall of the escalator and watched as a man with a bare torso drew a colorful circle on the street with chalk.

Until the summer festival started at 4 PM, I still had some time, so I went to the beach bar and satisfied my small hunger with the tastiest sweet potato fries. Afterwards, I sat on a freed-up swing while Latin American beach music or something similar played in the background, accompanied by the sound of the sea and seagulls. I watched big and small soap bubbles that a man in the distance was making, rising into the air. Small children circled and jumped excitedly around the area. “Kids are like adults on LSD,” I thought with a grin.

While I was swinging back and forth, a woman, probably in her mid-forties, approached me.

“Can I sit next to you?” she asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” I said, shifting a little to the side on the swing.

She sat down next to me on the swing.

“How are you?” she asked me.

“Good, I’m just sitting here and chilling my life,” I replied.

She kept talking to me. When she noticed from my accent that I wasn’t German, she started talking about being Aryan.

“... and I’m Aryan,” she said.

“I can’t judge that as long as you’re wearing sunglasses.”

She took off her sunglasses.

“Oh, green eyes,” I scrutinized her eyes, “yes, you’re Aryan.”

“Okay, I’ll help you, but only under one condition.”

“And that would be?”

“I’ll give something if your girlfriend buys me a cigarette,” I continued, pointing at the smoking girlfriend at the table.

“Girls?” she yelled. They turned around. “Bring me a cigarette,” she called out.

Her friend, who had traveled from Switzerland for the bachelor party, brought a cigarette and a lighter.

“Okay, here’s a little money,” I got a 5-euro bill from my pocket, “where can I sign?” I said and took a drag from my cigarette.

“You have a choice,” she said, puffing out her chest and giving me a black felt-tip pen.

“If one of those who signed becomes world-famous,” I said and signed my name directly under her nipple, “you can sell the T-shirt for a fortune.”

She talked to me a little longer and then went to a group of men sitting at a table. I swung for a few more minutes and then made my way to the campus to see if anything was going on there.

On the way there, I took off my barefoot shoes. I had gotten used to walking barefoot, and it was too warm in the shoes with socks. Screw it, it’ll be fine to dance barefoot. I also grabbed a few vegan patties along the way to satisfy my small hunger.

The campus was now full of students. I locked up my shoes in a locker at the library and got myself a cup of Sprite. Unfortunately, besides Sprite, only cola and beer were available for purchase. The HanoMacke was closed.

I sat down cross-legged and watched the economics students playing beer pong on the large lawn. The music was playing, but the big lawn was still cordoned off. It became too boring for me to sit there the whole time; after all, I wanted to dance. So I walked back to the city center to spend some more time there.

At Steintor, I listened to a passionate speech by a dark-skinned man in English, which was translated by a woman standing next to him on stage.

“End the war between Ukraine and Russia,” the woman translated.

“End the war in Gaza.”

“In the name of Jesus.”

At that moment, I had to think of Eckhart Tolle. To end all these wars, people need to detach from their ego-self. Only then is a permanently peaceful world possible.

The tanned man who had drawn the colorful circle with chalk was already much further along with his art. His circle was much larger and more colorful.

“Hey man,” his friend with the dreadlocks called out to me from the side. He looked like he came from Jamaica. “I saw you before. What’s up?”

We high-fived.

“Yeah, I was enjoying the painting of your friend.”

“Where are you from?” he asked me.

“I live in Hanover but I’m originally from Russia.”

“Oh cool. And I’m from Morocco and my friend is French.”

“And what are you doing in Hanover?”

“Just chilling and living here.”

They also seemed to be living a free life.

“Would you donate for a beer?”

I reached into my pocket and found a 2-euro coin, which I gave to the Moroccan for a beer.

After an hour, I went back to the campus. The campus was still full of people, and the barrier to the dance floor was still up.

An older man approached me and asked if I was Muslim.

“I’ve never heard that before. Normally, I’m Spanish,” I grinned.

We had a short conversation. Or rather: we shouted at each other. The man could hardly hear, and besides, the music was very loud, so I had to scream everything into his ear.

“I’m from Russia.”

“From Turkey?”

“No, from RUSSIA,” I shouted even louder into his ear.

He bought me a beer. I was a bit excited because I wanted to dance soon, so I accepted his offer. He talked to me about football and the European Championship, which didn’t interest me at all.

After the beer, I said goodbye to him and sat in front of the barrier. A student sitting next to me gave me his last cigarette. I felt the excitement rising within me. The cigarette helped to calm it down a bit.

“Hey, sorry,” I called out to one of the organizers walking by, “when can I get on the grass?”

He turned around and looked at his watch. “In 10 minutes, the barrier will be removed.”

In those 10 minutes, I focused on the here and now. I noticed the excitement fading away.

A man removed the barrier. But there was still no song playing that I liked.

The barrier was gone. I didn’t like the music yet. The song I didn’t know was coming to an end. Next song: Like a G6. I stood up and danced my way to the middle of the empty dance floor, around which hundreds of students stood with cups, chatting or sitting in front of the dance floor.

I danced and noticed that everyone was looking at me. It was an incredible experience. It felt like I was putting on a performance on stage.

After the song, I went to the edge of the dance floor because the next song was a German rap, which I didn’t want to dance to.

A blonde goddess came up to me and spoke to me.

“You’re really cool,” she said.

“Are you alone?” she asked me.

“Yeah, I’m usually alone. And you?”

“I’m here with friends, but I lost them. What are you studying?”

“I’m not studying anymore. But I studied physics. And you?”

“I’m not studying yet, but I’m starting next semester.”

A song by Lady Gaga. My body starts to move.

“I’ll keep dancing,” I said, waving to the goddess.

“Yeah, do that,” she grinned and waved back.

After the song, I took a break sitting cross-legged next to the DJ booth at the edge of the dance floor. A tall young man came up to me and sat cross-legged in front of me.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he smiled at me.

“Good, I’m chilling my life, and how about you?”

“Very good, very good. What’s your name?”

“Alexander, and you?”

“Hendrik.”

We shook hands. He had a very firm handshake.

“What are you studying?” he continued to ask me.

“Nothing, but I studied physics. And what are you studying?”

“Medicine.”

“Oh, I would have thought business administration. You look like a hashtag: Not a low earner.”

We got into a conversation.

“How old are you?” he asked me.

“Guess.”

He looked at me.

“Wait a second,” I say, massaging my face with my hand to shake off the permanent grin.

“I would say 33?”

“Not bad. I will turn 32 in June.”

I had read Hendrik's hands. He had airy hands, a straight head line, and a straight heart line. The fate line was pronounced only on the right hand and reached up to the head line.

After the conversation, he walked away, and I stayed seated to wait for the next song. Right in front of me, a student in a denim skirt was dancing with two male students. The student was dancing with her back to me.

From my cross-legged position, I could see her bare butt. Apparently, she wasn’t wearing any panties. I was in ecstasy. I got an erection as she wiggled her butt back and forth. At some point, she leaned forward, and the image that presented itself to me couldn’t get out of my head. I saw her shaved labia. My penis became even harder. I closed my eyes to focus on the present and push away the sexual fantasies about this student. The song "Rasputin" by Boney M came on. I went to the dance floor.

After a few songs, more and more people filled the dance floor, and I attracted less and less attention. Eventually, the dance floor became so crowded that I could no longer dance freely. I could only stand in one spot and hop. That was boring.

I left the meadow and sat cross-legged on a bench at a table. Dark clouds were piling up in the sky. I looked up at the sky. "Please rain," I whispered to myself.

A few minutes later, it started to drizzle, increasingly strong. Some people fled the dance floor under the roofs of the caravans where drinks were sold. Others pulled out umbrellas. A larger dance floor became free. I jumped onto it. The song by SIA, "Unstoppable," began. I danced as if I wanted to summon the rain.

Unfortunately, the rain was only brief. When it was over, the dance floor was full again, and I sat back on the same bench in front of the dance floor. I looked up at the sky and saw even darker clouds approaching the campus. I was looking forward to it.

“Hey,” called a young man with glasses, the one I knew from last time, “Is that you?” He looked at me with wide-open eyes.

“What?”

“The legend from last year?”

We high-fived each other. “Oh right, we danced epically together.”

His group of friends joined in.

“Oh oh, the legend! Is that really you?” said the handsome Asian from the group and pulled out his phone.

He looked at his phone and then back at me.

“Show me,” I said.

He showed me an Instagram reel of me going wild on the grass.

“Is that you?”

“Yes, that’s me. But I was wearing glasses and shoes back then,” I grinned.

The two guys from the group took a selfie with me and then left.

The dance floor was super crowded. I closed my eyes again. With my inner voice, I said, “Rain! Rain! Rain heavily from the sky.”

“Hey,” someone spoke to me.

I opened my eyes. A young man squatted down in front of me and smiled at me.

“I saw you dancing earlier. You really feel the music.”

“Yes. With some songs, the music flows through me; I can’t do anything else but dance.”

“Are you a student?”

“No, not anymore. And you?”

“I’m an apprentice plumber. Are you here alone?”

“Yes. And you?”

“I’m here with friends, but I can’t find them,” he said, looking at his smartphone with WhatsApp open.

“That’s the advantage of being alone. You’re not dependent on anyone,” I explained.

“How old are you?” he asked me.

“Guess.”

He looks at me. I try again to massage away the permanent grin from my face with my hands.

“26?”

“Oh, wow. Someone else guessed I was 33 today.”

“And? Am I right?”

“Not quite. I’m 32. I’d guess you’re 22.”

“Not bad. I’m 20.”

It starts to rain. Heavier and heavier. The cold drops pour down on the people and quickly what started as rain turns into a heavy downpour.

The plumber gets nervous.

“Awesome!” I’m excited when I see that more than half of the people have vanished from the dance floor.

“I’m going to dance now,” I say to him.

“Can I come too?” he asks as I look at him, seeing the water dripping from his short blonde hair onto his face.

“Rain is healthy. Come on!”

I ran onto the dance floor. He followed behind me. There was so much space to dance.

I did my dance moves.

He tried to imitate me. “I can’t dance like you,” he shouted.

“You don’t need to. Just feel the music and move however you want, without thinking,” I shouted back.

His dance moves became wilder. Suddenly, we were both in the spotlight. A group dancing next to us pulled out their phones and started filming us.

We danced for about half an hour until the rain stopped.

“What a short break,” I said to him. We clapped, and I went to the tables nearby.

“Where are your shoes?” asked a security guy.

“I don’t have any.”

“Then you have to leave the dance floor, please. It’s too dangerous with the shards.”

“Alright, I’ll just stay here at the table,” I agreed, knowing that arguing with a security guy wouldn’t help.

Fortunately, he moved on.

I looked around. A few tables away, a group of girls was lighting cigarettes. I climbed over the benches and tables to them, slightly hunched like a caveman.

“Hey girls, can you give me a cigarette?”

They looked at me in surprise as I squatted on the bench in front of them, barefoot.

“Yeah, wait,” said a brunette girl, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter from her pocket.

I lit the cigarette. “Thanks,” I said, quickly climbing back over the tables to the empty bench.

“Dude! Are you in the jungle?” said a young man, looking like a Gopnik in his Adidas tracksuit.

I laughed. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Why aren’t you wearing shoes? There are shards everywhere,” he said, taking a drag from his cigarette. His friends also looked like Gopniks.

“Are you Russian?” I asked him.

“Yeah, I’m Russian.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Where are you from?”

“From Rostov-on-Don.”

“Bro, why are you barefoot?”

He asked me in Russian why I wasn’t wearing shoes. I didn’t know how to explain it to him in Russian. And he didn’t look like he would understand.

I climbed onto the table and started dancing on it.

“Tarzan?” shouted a man from a group of men on the other side of the table.

“Tarzan! You’re my role model,” he continued.

We high-fived. He gave me a cigarette.

“Tarzan? Who is Tarzan?” I heard his buddy asking in the group.

“What, you don’t know Tarzan? There he is!” he shouted, pointing at me.

After the beer, I needed to go to the restroom. In the restroom, a man was standing at the urinal.

“You’re the best one here,” he said, looking at me while I was peeing.

“Thanks,” I said, zipped up my pants, and went back to dancing.

Time passed. I spent the rest of the summer festival dancing on the table or next to it and resting on the bench.

It got dark. I sat on the table, which wobbled as if I were in a carriage on a country road. Behind me, girls were dancing on the table. My eyes were briefly closed. I was tired.

“You look so relaxed.”

A brunette goddess with a nose piercing stood in front of me, rolling a cigarette.

“Yeah, sort of. Can you roll me one too?” I asked.

“Sure, I’ll do it.”

She rolled me a cigarette. I placed it between my lips, and she lit it for me.

“Do you want to be friends?” I asked her, taking a drag from the cigarette.

“I got that question last time in kindergarten,” she laughed.

“I don’t have any real friends. My friendships don’t seem to last very long.”

She looked at me skeptically.

“I know. I’m weird,” I said.

During our conversation, Gwen suggested that I chill in Linden since there were more people like me there. She wanted to return to her friends.

“Are you coming with me?” she asked.

“No, I’d rather not,” I replied. I didn’t have the energy to engage with others. I just wanted to be with Gwen.

We hugged for a long time, and she went to her two friends whom she hadn’t seen in a long time.

I continued dancing. Ten minutes later, Gwen came back to me.

“I’m going home now,” she said, approaching me with open arms.

“Thank you for your understanding,” I whispered in her ear and hugged her tightly.

I pulled out my phone. It was already 11 PM. The summer festival would last until midnight. But I was already exhausted.

I weaved through the still crowded campus, filled with drunk people, heading towards the bus stop. Just ten more minutes until the bus arrives. I sat cross-legged against the wall of the bus stop next to a shining spotlight. It was stupid of me not to ask Gwen if she could take me home. She was so affectionate. I would have loved to cuddle with her all night.

Then, the image of the student without panties popped into my head. From then on, I couldn't stop thinking about it. No. I could, but I didn’t want to.

Those beautiful, smoothly shaved labia peeking out from under the skirt ignited an uncontrollable desire within me. The sexual arousal was so intense that I even got an erection during the bus ride. I imagined us going together to the dark, deserted Georgengarten after the summer festival. We sit on a bench. I unzip my pants and take out my stiff penis. She discreetly lifts her skirt and sits on my lap. With gentle movements back and forth, up and down, we bring each other to orgasm. I’m not wearing a condom.

Today I am grateful:

• For not drinking coffee.
• For dancing barefoot for the first time today from 6 PM to 11 PM.
• For meeting Gwen.