I had no cell phone (NONE, not just the latest model) and no internet.

I had to take the bus to and from school, which I also had to walk to first. I wasn't driven to my classroom every day and picked up again. My parents probably didn't realize that 2 tons of car had to be moved to transport a child to school when there was a bus there anyway. Or it was because, despite all our poverty, we only had one car, which my father used to drive to work. In addition, there was only one bus parking lot in front of the school and not 300 parking spaces for helicopter mothers waiting for their children in SUVs. I guess I only survived this with a lot of luck.

We didn't have a ten-fold TÜV-tested playground to play in, where there was a rubber insulation mat under the swing so that we didn't fall to our deaths if we were too stupid to swing. We had to play football on the football field or in the village square, we played in the field between cows, barbed wires and hedges, climbed unsecured trees and ran through the stream. And if we were bitten on the nose, it usually healed on its own, without us having to be bathed in sagrotan or anything else and immediately dragged to the doctor for every fly bite.

We were so poor, we couldn't even afford to be lactose intolerant or gluten intolerant. Let alone a double name like Jeremy Pascal or Finn Torben. There was no name sticker for the offspring on the rear window. During all this hardship, our parents had to know us by name without any help. But that was okay, because they saw us often enough because there was no all-day care at school and we weren't just at home with them for dinner and sleep. In these times of need, parents even had to take responsibility for feeding their children themselves. There were tons of mothers who still mastered and carried out the historical ritual of cooking!

The fact that we survived all of this to some extent borders on a miracle. The fact that our parents didn't go to jail for this, even more so. Fortunately, all of this is no longer imaginable today! Where would we end up then?!

But anyone who grows up like that is bound to suffer damage. So bear with me. I'm glad that I didn't die straight away amidst all these unspeakable injustices!

Anyone who is angry with me should always remember what an unspeakably bad childhood I had


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"Dravens Tales from the Crypt" has been enchanting for over 15 years with a tasteless mixture of humor, serious journalism - for current events and unbalanced reporting in the press politics - and zombies, garnished with lots of art, entertainment and punk rock. Draven has turned his hobby into a popular brand that cannot be classified.

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