my heart is scared, fluttering inside my chest, I have to admit I still do of course naturally miss You and refuse to believe that this is it. Against my better judgement of course. when you saw me you said, jesus, you are a mess, get yourself off the floor I did it too, get yourself together and try to move on but all I really wanted to do is to refuse any more growing commands and rest in the earth for a while. Or on clouds. I just want you to still share special moments with me, let me know about songs and thoughts and nothing whatever anymore.
okay. that's that!
and the other thing: I am scared shitless thinking of leaving. it's going to be so tough .I am not trying to talk myself into it it's just, I KNOW it.
fuck. oh well. i was really really scared coming here too. so it's fair, it's okay, it's normal.
but I am a wreck right now.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
strange
It is the strangest
how i ride into the evening along that coast
and feel this definite feeling
so blurred but distinct
too distinct almost
but even it's distinction doesn't make me so sad
and it makes me wonder
all those strange days that found us
and here i am
here we are
apart
and i still wait for the hurting
In the summer it was different, many life times ago
when I knew it wasn't done
I knew there was some more writing to be done
even with you at the other side of the moon
I knew it
We both did
And I hear you saying I feel bad for you, do you have fun? Don't be sad...
And I am surprised to be honest when I say I am happier and don't feel bad for me I know my kind of fun.
How about you? do You miss me? do you have fun? do you feel sad?
Do you crave time with me, closeness to me?
Maybe we are just gone. Gone with the wind. And nobody knows if we ll meet again, we might, we can, but this time it feels free and soft like a blue kissed summer wind
how i ride into the evening along that coast
and feel this definite feeling
so blurred but distinct
too distinct almost
but even it's distinction doesn't make me so sad
and it makes me wonder
all those strange days that found us
and here i am
here we are
apart
and i still wait for the hurting
In the summer it was different, many life times ago
when I knew it wasn't done
I knew there was some more writing to be done
even with you at the other side of the moon
I knew it
We both did
And I hear you saying I feel bad for you, do you have fun? Don't be sad...
And I am surprised to be honest when I say I am happier and don't feel bad for me I know my kind of fun.
How about you? do You miss me? do you have fun? do you feel sad?
Do you crave time with me, closeness to me?
Maybe we are just gone. Gone with the wind. And nobody knows if we ll meet again, we might, we can, but this time it feels free and soft like a blue kissed summer wind
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
it's almost pathetic
how i wish
this was true
for anyone who is dying inside
i m incapable of telling
whether there is sarcasm or zynical thought involved
i just throw myself at the idea and cling to it for it not to disappear like yet another mirage in this desert i'm finding myself in.
thirsty for miracles.
real life miracles such as
change is possible
yesterday night... he asked me why. why do you fall for guys like me. who are dying inside.
and i cried inside.
i can only guess.
how i wish
this was true
for anyone who is dying inside
i m incapable of telling
whether there is sarcasm or zynical thought involved
i just throw myself at the idea and cling to it for it not to disappear like yet another mirage in this desert i'm finding myself in.
thirsty for miracles.
real life miracles such as
change is possible
yesterday night... he asked me why. why do you fall for guys like me. who are dying inside.
and i cried inside.
i can only guess.
Monday, March 03, 2008
books
i am in a library now.
i have a library card
and when the doors swing open we enter another world
people, with noses buried deep in books and thought
looking like mice
and
the sun is shining out there
and
my love is hiding behind the blankets of confusion
but i know
it is there
i have a library card
and when the doors swing open we enter another world
people, with noses buried deep in books and thought
looking like mice
and
the sun is shining out there
and
my love is hiding behind the blankets of confusion
but i know
it is there
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Sunset: Loving who is dying inside.
The Dark Side Of The Moon
Yesterday I read a column in the Times about an online project that asks people to tell their life story in only six words. Hemingway style.
This is mine: Sunset: Loving who is dying inside.
you don't know what it's like he says and spits on the roof. his wary hand doesn't find the cigarette, stuck in the corner of his mouth, it went out, out like his eyes died just seconds ago and the lighter is just a faint replica of fires we once knew, faded memories...
all this, i have seen before and I don't have much time. The old brickstone building, with the mysterious redlit windows in the dark. The Japanese Restaurant I won't ever afford. The hills. The castle. The street. The dirt. The dizziness of life on the fast lane.
I swallow some tears, they are salty. Look away. Look back. His words tumble into the somber darkness like puppies that just learned to walk. I could feed them. Heed them. But I don't. Tonight I just listen. Hold his arms. His back. His heart.
I know that I don't know. At least that much. How can such a lucky person and such an unlucky person be so in love?
That's what I would like to know sometimes.
Later, on my old futon that I bought for twenty bucks from the creepy old Russian guy, I swayed back and forth between heart beats and heavy breathing.
You know nothing about what it's like to love someone who is dying inside.
Yesterday I read a column in the Times about an online project that asks people to tell their life story in only six words. Hemingway style.
This is mine: Sunset: Loving who is dying inside.
you don't know what it's like he says and spits on the roof. his wary hand doesn't find the cigarette, stuck in the corner of his mouth, it went out, out like his eyes died just seconds ago and the lighter is just a faint replica of fires we once knew, faded memories...
all this, i have seen before and I don't have much time. The old brickstone building, with the mysterious redlit windows in the dark. The Japanese Restaurant I won't ever afford. The hills. The castle. The street. The dirt. The dizziness of life on the fast lane.
I swallow some tears, they are salty. Look away. Look back. His words tumble into the somber darkness like puppies that just learned to walk. I could feed them. Heed them. But I don't. Tonight I just listen. Hold his arms. His back. His heart.
I know that I don't know. At least that much. How can such a lucky person and such an unlucky person be so in love?
That's what I would like to know sometimes.
Later, on my old futon that I bought for twenty bucks from the creepy old Russian guy, I swayed back and forth between heart beats and heavy breathing.
You know nothing about what it's like to love someone who is dying inside.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
dazed and confused
I admit that I'm still confused. That I still don't get it. I tried. Went there, not all the way but some of it. Fell in love with those who went. Blue comes to mind, by Joni Mitchell. She kind of puts it the way I felt.
But today in the morning I woke up with a cry in my throat with an urgent urge to bury my head in pillows and keep the blinds shut and just wallow in my confusion and sadness and mourn the foggy mysteries hidden beneath societies faces.
The beautiful melodies of the nearby church bells wafted through shut windows and blinds. His hands told me something his laughter his voice, but maybe I wanted words, explanations, empty rationalized figures drawn into the air between us.
Why is it 'normal'? I don't know life that way. Why do people need to drink and be dazed, why does it seem so normal to go and have a drink at a bar if you wanna go out and have fun?? My sister just tells me I can figure shit out only for myself. I guess so. But I just don't know life that way. I know it is akward to talk about it like that. I am not throwing stones. I am just really confused and sad. Sad because i don't understand and because obviously I think my way is a beautiful one. I guess I am not alone. Isn't that what the whole world keeps fighting about??
I doubt
I wonder
That there ever could be true understanding...Ever...
Blue, songs are like tattoos
You know Ive been to sea betore
Crown and anchor me
Or let me sail away
Hey blue, here is a song for you
Ink on a pin
Underneath the skin
An empty space to fill in
Well therere so many sinking now
Youve got to keep thinking
You can make it thru these waves
Acid, booze, and ass
Needles, guns, and grass
Lots of laughs, lots of laughs
Everybodys saying that hells the hippest way to go
Well I dont think so
But Im gonna take a look around it though
Blue, I love you
Blue, here is a shell for you
Inside youll hear a sigh
A foggy lullaby
There is your song from me
But today in the morning I woke up with a cry in my throat with an urgent urge to bury my head in pillows and keep the blinds shut and just wallow in my confusion and sadness and mourn the foggy mysteries hidden beneath societies faces.
The beautiful melodies of the nearby church bells wafted through shut windows and blinds. His hands told me something his laughter his voice, but maybe I wanted words, explanations, empty rationalized figures drawn into the air between us.
Why is it 'normal'? I don't know life that way. Why do people need to drink and be dazed, why does it seem so normal to go and have a drink at a bar if you wanna go out and have fun?? My sister just tells me I can figure shit out only for myself. I guess so. But I just don't know life that way. I know it is akward to talk about it like that. I am not throwing stones. I am just really confused and sad. Sad because i don't understand and because obviously I think my way is a beautiful one. I guess I am not alone. Isn't that what the whole world keeps fighting about??
I doubt
I wonder
That there ever could be true understanding...Ever...
Blue, songs are like tattoos
You know Ive been to sea betore
Crown and anchor me
Or let me sail away
Hey blue, here is a song for you
Ink on a pin
Underneath the skin
An empty space to fill in
Well therere so many sinking now
Youve got to keep thinking
You can make it thru these waves
Acid, booze, and ass
Needles, guns, and grass
Lots of laughs, lots of laughs
Everybodys saying that hells the hippest way to go
Well I dont think so
But Im gonna take a look around it though
Blue, I love you
Blue, here is a shell for you
Inside youll hear a sigh
A foggy lullaby
There is your song from me
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
she said
she said
what about your blog
and i dont have internet as i used to before
on my old street they held a gun at the site manager's head and robbed 1950
it's funny
because
the thought of leaving makes me wanna stay
but when i look at the websites of my old college in berlin
and
things you know?
i get thrilled.
awww. how amazing it all is and was
can't wait
life is too exciting
and i think
God,
how lucky I got
no offense to people who dont find luck in their lives because i know some who are blind like that
but
man
I don't know
what about your blog
and i dont have internet as i used to before
on my old street they held a gun at the site manager's head and robbed 1950
it's funny
because
the thought of leaving makes me wanna stay
but when i look at the websites of my old college in berlin
and
things you know?
i get thrilled.
awww. how amazing it all is and was
can't wait
life is too exciting
and i think
God,
how lucky I got
no offense to people who dont find luck in their lives because i know some who are blind like that
but
man
I don't know
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
where are you all my friends, where are you hiding now?'
certain things i dont even wanna touch anymore with my words
wounded and with raw flesh gaping at me they simmer in the heat of passions lost and forlorn.
but life goes on and is beautiful as always. there is a beauty in broken eyes and evenv though my eyes might be filled with tears in response, the light still breaks itself in them and explodes in my mind in all colors of the rainbow.
oh.
the palm trees are kissed by the last rays of the evening sun.
my thoughts wander back to when i loved david and i thought that i would belong.
or even further back to when I occupied myself with insignificant crushes that filled up my writing and longing.
in the end, a lot of those dreams where merely a reflelction of the howling of the wolves at full moon, the indefinable yearning you feel listening to 'Anna's Song' by Marvin Gaye. The glimpse at the impossible thought chance of true love in a romance.
ah.
what a life that is spinning us around.
oh my dear friends.
i can't wait to meet you again, some day, making sweet love in music, art and conversations.
i can't wait to go dancing with you again. ah, oh yeah
this is my song
certain things i dont even wanna touch anymore with my words
wounded and with raw flesh gaping at me they simmer in the heat of passions lost and forlorn.
but life goes on and is beautiful as always. there is a beauty in broken eyes and evenv though my eyes might be filled with tears in response, the light still breaks itself in them and explodes in my mind in all colors of the rainbow.
oh.
the palm trees are kissed by the last rays of the evening sun.
my thoughts wander back to when i loved david and i thought that i would belong.
or even further back to when I occupied myself with insignificant crushes that filled up my writing and longing.
in the end, a lot of those dreams where merely a reflelction of the howling of the wolves at full moon, the indefinable yearning you feel listening to 'Anna's Song' by Marvin Gaye. The glimpse at the impossible thought chance of true love in a romance.
ah.
what a life that is spinning us around.
oh my dear friends.
i can't wait to meet you again, some day, making sweet love in music, art and conversations.
i can't wait to go dancing with you again. ah, oh yeah
this is my song
Saturday, December 29, 2007
a glimpse
it is repeatedly
not what is said
but the inbetween
that touches our hearts
and mends them together
in a dance
that says in silence
so much more
than anything i could ever say
.
But I remember Andi.
It is a story of words although I remember vividly how he lit his self made cigarette in the dim warm light of an old oriental lamp. His books and music collection matched my taste and the taste of his body was fresh and innocent and warm almost like it was a good thing. Yes, I don't remember much of what was said in those intimate hours that led to feelings of complete humiliation and regrets towering against an otherwise cleancut blue early summer sky.
I remember that he had a brother and he likes, ironically, outdoor adventures just as much as I did and while I was daydreaming of us making wild sweet love in wild sweet meadows or in the back of his amiable VW bus he told me about how he made at least seven women scream and cum and explode their brains and it wasn't until later that I understood that it was scarred hearts that remained. And only now I realize the red lights that should have been flashing when he boasted with something that was absent in our time.
Another night I let him come and cum again, he left within seconds afterwards mumbeling some dumb words not giving silence one chance to breath.
It was a nice light setting then too but my friends room and I don't know whether I even made it to the shower to wash off the humiliating feeling dripping off my fingers like a sticky disgusting summer sweat.
The lessons learned were hard to digest. Thinking back never gave me any pleasures except for maybe the first night behind the bar in the vastness of the rusty sculpture park. There were stars at last and mind blowing virginity of the moment.
Everything else is and should remain a faint and slurry blur. My only words that I draw from those moments of silence that he couldn't see are the following:
Affairs only really make sense when you are sexually experienced. When you know what makes you cum. When you have had the opportunity to fully trust someone.
and when the other person knows about the perfectness and uniqueness and the value of a now.
carpe diem
carpe noche
not what is said
but the inbetween
that touches our hearts
and mends them together
in a dance
that says in silence
so much more
than anything i could ever say
.
But I remember Andi.
It is a story of words although I remember vividly how he lit his self made cigarette in the dim warm light of an old oriental lamp. His books and music collection matched my taste and the taste of his body was fresh and innocent and warm almost like it was a good thing. Yes, I don't remember much of what was said in those intimate hours that led to feelings of complete humiliation and regrets towering against an otherwise cleancut blue early summer sky.
I remember that he had a brother and he likes, ironically, outdoor adventures just as much as I did and while I was daydreaming of us making wild sweet love in wild sweet meadows or in the back of his amiable VW bus he told me about how he made at least seven women scream and cum and explode their brains and it wasn't until later that I understood that it was scarred hearts that remained. And only now I realize the red lights that should have been flashing when he boasted with something that was absent in our time.
Another night I let him come and cum again, he left within seconds afterwards mumbeling some dumb words not giving silence one chance to breath.
It was a nice light setting then too but my friends room and I don't know whether I even made it to the shower to wash off the humiliating feeling dripping off my fingers like a sticky disgusting summer sweat.
The lessons learned were hard to digest. Thinking back never gave me any pleasures except for maybe the first night behind the bar in the vastness of the rusty sculpture park. There were stars at last and mind blowing virginity of the moment.
Everything else is and should remain a faint and slurry blur. My only words that I draw from those moments of silence that he couldn't see are the following:
Affairs only really make sense when you are sexually experienced. When you know what makes you cum. When you have had the opportunity to fully trust someone.
and when the other person knows about the perfectness and uniqueness and the value of a now.
carpe diem
carpe noche
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
trust
the trust it was broken and you damaged it
it was you
there is no second guessing
and you
who i love
so there was my eagerness to forgive
but i didn't know that forgiving is not forgetting
and it is not a decision
but a long journey
on the back of a broken sad heart.
there was trust shattered
again and again
and
how can you demand me
to trust you
when i feel the scar of that injured trust
rub up against my heart
all this time
.
trust, just as forgiving
a journey
not a decision
it was you
there is no second guessing
and you
who i love
so there was my eagerness to forgive
but i didn't know that forgiving is not forgetting
and it is not a decision
but a long journey
on the back of a broken sad heart.
there was trust shattered
again and again
and
how can you demand me
to trust you
when i feel the scar of that injured trust
rub up against my heart
all this time
.
trust, just as forgiving
a journey
not a decision
Friday, December 14, 2007
fear
it is in fear that we lie.
what an uncomfortable and terrible way of being laid.
it is a bigger fear that unties a knot of lie
it is unconditional love only that resolves the fear beneath.
i am not mad at you.
i feel pity
i might be sad.
i might want to cry into the evening sky.
but
i am not mad
my own imperfections tower above me like a shadow straight out of a nightmare.
you bare with me
i bare with you
maybe that's another thing
about
what they call
love
what an uncomfortable and terrible way of being laid.
it is a bigger fear that unties a knot of lie
it is unconditional love only that resolves the fear beneath.
i am not mad at you.
i feel pity
i might be sad.
i might want to cry into the evening sky.
but
i am not mad
my own imperfections tower above me like a shadow straight out of a nightmare.
you bare with me
i bare with you
maybe that's another thing
about
what they call
love
Sunday, November 25, 2007
mater dola rosa
white black red
there they go
in a dance that was never meant to end
feeling like a virgin again
teddybear clutched to sleep
don't know what was
don't know what was
is this a mare from a distant star
is this a dream dreamt by a blossoming
maybe i am
there
quiet quiet calm no storm
there is someone
names dropped, fell on the floor
a stranger will come later through my door
alone but not alone
sharing but not
a delicate balance that could fail or fly
melodies weaving in
the warm sleepy coat
blankets innocent like years before
and no names were known
as violins rise
and violence subsides
and bleeding flowers cry
if i was
if i was
if i am
i will rise again
kissing the morning sun
pale like my breath
trying to grasp a spiteful of delusions
don't know what was
don't know what was
a lover
a star
a moon
a frozen lake
to dance on
there they go
in a dance that was never meant to end
feeling like a virgin again
teddybear clutched to sleep
don't know what was
don't know what was
is this a mare from a distant star
is this a dream dreamt by a blossoming
maybe i am
there
quiet quiet calm no storm
there is someone
names dropped, fell on the floor
a stranger will come later through my door
alone but not alone
sharing but not
a delicate balance that could fail or fly
melodies weaving in
the warm sleepy coat
blankets innocent like years before
and no names were known
as violins rise
and violence subsides
and bleeding flowers cry
if i was
if i was
if i am
i will rise again
kissing the morning sun
pale like my breath
trying to grasp a spiteful of delusions
don't know what was
don't know what was
a lover
a star
a moon
a frozen lake
to dance on
blossoming
you love me with such an unexpected tenderness, passion subliminal, that my dreams get swept away in a sweet and swift rush of warmth,tickling my cells, breaking open rusty doors with the ease of a magician.
inside, there is the unspeakable. the fragile that can tear a whole world of destruction and disappointment and disillusion apart. that,which is more than a dream. maybe only poets could grasp these words, these fragile birds, who have been abused and misused for too many times.
outside there are the hungry wolves and vultures lingering and waiting for the words to break into pieces. beauty, veiled in, to leave the living sacred, to protect the heart beyond the palpable matters.
ah, if you only knew what beauty you create, you, you, who kills mockingbirds with words painting the picture of a broken demon, a loser, a pathetic fuck.
ah, if you only knew what beauty you create, you, you, -every moment you touch me with your warmth, your black eyes, your breath so sweet
like a blossoming
inside, there is the unspeakable. the fragile that can tear a whole world of destruction and disappointment and disillusion apart. that,which is more than a dream. maybe only poets could grasp these words, these fragile birds, who have been abused and misused for too many times.
outside there are the hungry wolves and vultures lingering and waiting for the words to break into pieces. beauty, veiled in, to leave the living sacred, to protect the heart beyond the palpable matters.
ah, if you only knew what beauty you create, you, you, who kills mockingbirds with words painting the picture of a broken demon, a loser, a pathetic fuck.
ah, if you only knew what beauty you create, you, you, -every moment you touch me with your warmth, your black eyes, your breath so sweet
like a blossoming
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
come back
Beneath the surface of the dream there is hell. Dark, rotten, screaming,
DARK ROTTEN SCREAMING
DARK ROTTEN SCREAMING
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Forgiving. - Healing past wounds.
So a miracle is about to happen. And it is one week to go to Eastern, the old pagan celebration of resurrection and renewal and fertility (the red eggs!), the Christian celebration of Resurrection and - Forgivingness.
You have no idea how miracle-struck I am right now.
All of the sudden, in a matter of the seconds it takes to read a textmessage and translate the meaning of it to your brain, it hit me hard and I understood!
It is so unbeliavable that I don't know how to start or what to say actually. It has to do with life, love, fate, destiny, chances, growing and past and the now.
It has to do with a little Piranha, the wild child, who lost her heart and her hopes and her self-confidence when she failed to help the one person she loved most and a little Gypsy who lost his heart and his trust and his will to live when he ran into his big love back then, in one nasty night or dirty afternoon, moaning and rolling and sweating with a 40 year old guy, he saw and heard them and it tore him into pieces and he dropped everything and went on a mission - childish but who can blame him for he was a child until this moment! - to destroy himself, his heart, his memories because he couldn't kill her so he had to kill himself to get rid of the pain the memories and his betrayed beliefs and hopes that afflicted him every day and every sober second.
So one day this wild child and this Gypsy met and for some reason they felt they would have to write this chapter together. And they fell so deeply in love that they wanted to write a whole book but only God knows how life will change and how we will change but the will and the love and the wish is right there.
Walking the road together they held hands, kissed one beautiful milky way night at a hidden miraculous bay in Malibu, where the sand and the crushing waves shone neon white and green due to the plankton. And then they made love one wonderful moon night at Venice beach and they felt the presence of this girl around them, Sophia, and they went through hard times and good times and he said he gave her his heart.
But all she had really, was his wish to give it to her.
IN reality this heart was hidden beneath a nasty layer of pus, an unhealed wound that made it practically impossible for him to even let his heart be touched by the wind or my wings.
Nightmares and fears were rotting in his brain, fear is the opposite of love, how can you love when you are so afraid?
The wild child asked herself this question many times. She was desperate, she cried, she tried, she wondered, she enjoyed, she doubted. But no matter how much she tried to imagine different solutions to her problem, she never could imagine NOT being with him. It just didn't do it for her. So she stayed with him, she said, it's alright, it's alright, take anything you want from me, anything, anything, and sometimes though she would get so tired. so, so tired from his games. From this vacuum he made them be in. He couldn't enter her world, she wasn't allowed to enter his - matter of fact, he did everything to protect her from it. Sometimes she would get sad from contemptful comments he made about other people, about the world, sometimes even about her 'fairy tale world'. But she remained silent, yelled every now and then and kept reaching out to him...
Until one day...
this Saturday afternoon....
He told her...
that he had this nightmare. Every night. since a week. Her, fucking somebody else, and every time in the dream he put a gun in his mouth, as a solution.
It took her two seconds to realize: It's not ME. It is Magdalena. She might have my face but it is her in the dream. And: That's why I couldn't sleep those past nights. It is very unusual for me not to be able to fall asleep. I couldn't. Until early early in the morning. I didn't know why but now I know it was out of sympathy for him. I couldn't eat after graduation because I was so worried about him, although he said he was alright. Matter of fact, though, I just seem to feel those things. He went through an extremely bad depressive patch and wanted to kill himself. So much for 'I'm alright!' and not lying. And opening up to your love...
Being in a relationship means, you can help each other. you can grow with each other. you don't have to continue fighting every battle by yourself. Some, yes. But others, not.
The bottom line of this story is, that I will not allow sexuality in our relationship until he fixes his heart. I loved making love to him. I want to do that again. I can't deal with a broken heart no more. It is like, when you don't learn your lesson, it will be repeated in your life somehow. I don't want that for us! I want him to move on so he can love me and be with me without those everlasting fears, this annoying suspicion about every guy friend I have and every move I dance when I go out alone.
And the only way he can heal his heart is by forgiving her. And assuming responsibility for his life and for his gifts that he received from the divine. And forgiving starts with compassion. THATS WHY I am actually happy that he is friends with that bitch Janet, because he told me earlier, that she reminds him of his ex and that he feels bad for her. Yeah, she is a whore, she is maybe a lost or a seeking soul. I always defended her and I always defended Magdalena too. He has to learn to feel compassionate towards those souls and lives and then forgive whatever they did to him. And first things first! First he has to forgive HIMSELF and embrace himself, everything he did. He hates so much about his past. But hate and fear and comtempt is the pus in his heart. He has to learn how to allow the Christ in his heart, if you want to put it this way, and accept the healing power of forgivingness, accept the help of somebody else!!!! Ask for it! Because alone you are too weak.
And the beauty of all this is - how we both got a second chance. He has no idea how much it meant to me when he simply stopped smoking weed just because it bothered me. You have to understand. Weed and other drugs have been my severest rival over so many years. They killed my love. I have the chance to actively love now, with a person with a similar fate like my Pedro. We can work it out!!! And he can learn how to love someone like me, who is so openhearted and world-loving and overspilling of joy and love for life, without fears.
And what he wrote, ah, so dear to my heart:
I understand sweety. Fully. And I decided to let you help. I wanna let you be completely involved in my life'
Halleluja, yehaaa! Hooray!!! That's a permission for me to go and to the work....
there's always been this little Shaman inside of me.... a little soul doctor... a little resolute madre maria dola rosa......
like, in everyone of us
You have no idea how miracle-struck I am right now.
All of the sudden, in a matter of the seconds it takes to read a textmessage and translate the meaning of it to your brain, it hit me hard and I understood!
It is so unbeliavable that I don't know how to start or what to say actually. It has to do with life, love, fate, destiny, chances, growing and past and the now.
It has to do with a little Piranha, the wild child, who lost her heart and her hopes and her self-confidence when she failed to help the one person she loved most and a little Gypsy who lost his heart and his trust and his will to live when he ran into his big love back then, in one nasty night or dirty afternoon, moaning and rolling and sweating with a 40 year old guy, he saw and heard them and it tore him into pieces and he dropped everything and went on a mission - childish but who can blame him for he was a child until this moment! - to destroy himself, his heart, his memories because he couldn't kill her so he had to kill himself to get rid of the pain the memories and his betrayed beliefs and hopes that afflicted him every day and every sober second.
So one day this wild child and this Gypsy met and for some reason they felt they would have to write this chapter together. And they fell so deeply in love that they wanted to write a whole book but only God knows how life will change and how we will change but the will and the love and the wish is right there.
Walking the road together they held hands, kissed one beautiful milky way night at a hidden miraculous bay in Malibu, where the sand and the crushing waves shone neon white and green due to the plankton. And then they made love one wonderful moon night at Venice beach and they felt the presence of this girl around them, Sophia, and they went through hard times and good times and he said he gave her his heart.
But all she had really, was his wish to give it to her.
IN reality this heart was hidden beneath a nasty layer of pus, an unhealed wound that made it practically impossible for him to even let his heart be touched by the wind or my wings.
Nightmares and fears were rotting in his brain, fear is the opposite of love, how can you love when you are so afraid?
The wild child asked herself this question many times. She was desperate, she cried, she tried, she wondered, she enjoyed, she doubted. But no matter how much she tried to imagine different solutions to her problem, she never could imagine NOT being with him. It just didn't do it for her. So she stayed with him, she said, it's alright, it's alright, take anything you want from me, anything, anything, and sometimes though she would get so tired. so, so tired from his games. From this vacuum he made them be in. He couldn't enter her world, she wasn't allowed to enter his - matter of fact, he did everything to protect her from it. Sometimes she would get sad from contemptful comments he made about other people, about the world, sometimes even about her 'fairy tale world'. But she remained silent, yelled every now and then and kept reaching out to him...
Until one day...
this Saturday afternoon....
He told her...
that he had this nightmare. Every night. since a week. Her, fucking somebody else, and every time in the dream he put a gun in his mouth, as a solution.
It took her two seconds to realize: It's not ME. It is Magdalena. She might have my face but it is her in the dream. And: That's why I couldn't sleep those past nights. It is very unusual for me not to be able to fall asleep. I couldn't. Until early early in the morning. I didn't know why but now I know it was out of sympathy for him. I couldn't eat after graduation because I was so worried about him, although he said he was alright. Matter of fact, though, I just seem to feel those things. He went through an extremely bad depressive patch and wanted to kill himself. So much for 'I'm alright!' and not lying. And opening up to your love...
Being in a relationship means, you can help each other. you can grow with each other. you don't have to continue fighting every battle by yourself. Some, yes. But others, not.
The bottom line of this story is, that I will not allow sexuality in our relationship until he fixes his heart. I loved making love to him. I want to do that again. I can't deal with a broken heart no more. It is like, when you don't learn your lesson, it will be repeated in your life somehow. I don't want that for us! I want him to move on so he can love me and be with me without those everlasting fears, this annoying suspicion about every guy friend I have and every move I dance when I go out alone.
And the only way he can heal his heart is by forgiving her. And assuming responsibility for his life and for his gifts that he received from the divine. And forgiving starts with compassion. THATS WHY I am actually happy that he is friends with that bitch Janet, because he told me earlier, that she reminds him of his ex and that he feels bad for her. Yeah, she is a whore, she is maybe a lost or a seeking soul. I always defended her and I always defended Magdalena too. He has to learn to feel compassionate towards those souls and lives and then forgive whatever they did to him. And first things first! First he has to forgive HIMSELF and embrace himself, everything he did. He hates so much about his past. But hate and fear and comtempt is the pus in his heart. He has to learn how to allow the Christ in his heart, if you want to put it this way, and accept the healing power of forgivingness, accept the help of somebody else!!!! Ask for it! Because alone you are too weak.
And the beauty of all this is - how we both got a second chance. He has no idea how much it meant to me when he simply stopped smoking weed just because it bothered me. You have to understand. Weed and other drugs have been my severest rival over so many years. They killed my love. I have the chance to actively love now, with a person with a similar fate like my Pedro. We can work it out!!! And he can learn how to love someone like me, who is so openhearted and world-loving and overspilling of joy and love for life, without fears.
And what he wrote, ah, so dear to my heart:
I understand sweety. Fully. And I decided to let you help. I wanna let you be completely involved in my life'
Halleluja, yehaaa! Hooray!!! That's a permission for me to go and to the work....
there's always been this little Shaman inside of me.... a little soul doctor... a little resolute madre maria dola rosa......
like, in everyone of us
Saturday, April 08, 2006
ani difranco and fairy tale rules
In loop right now 'Done Wrong' by Ani Difranco who I just discovered...Great lyrics. Damn...
People like her absolutely encourage me to go further on my way of musical exploration. The only thing I am really lacking still, is the courage to go on stage and perform no matter what and get better right there. I am still so scared but I will get over it. I know it.
Ah, yeah, life. I was just thinking today while I was cleaning: Doesn't this bitch Janet have a least bit sense of decency and respect? Maybe she is not aware of it, but I don't get to see my love very much. What the fuck. You wanna spend the night with us??? WHAT THE FUCK???? I shouldn't have played it cool. I should have reacted cool but tell him what I think about THAT. Why doesn't she go to one of her thousand lovers that she betrayed her ex with? Huh? Why does she have to spoil one of the rare opportunities for me to be alone with my love?? WHY doesn't he get that and told her by himself???? So helpful, my love, you are so fucking helpful.
I say: FIRST THINGS FIRST. First you show me that this is going to work. First you give me what I need. You say I am never happy, it s never enough. But hey wait a minute, read with me these lyrics:
'How could you do nothing and say I'm doing my best'?
That's how I feel. I don't know how difficult really your situation is and how much of a big accomplishment it is for you to actually come out here and visit me, but hey, it's me who makes it a beautiful thing then. Don't get me wrong, i love you. I love being with you. And you make me feel good. You are funny. You make me laugh and I feel how much you love me and care for me. But I haven't seen the effort coming yet, the effort the prince has to make to get the princess.
See, I am going to stick to that from now on. I think it is a great idea that we can learn from fairy tales... The tasks the prince has to accomplish before getting the princess. Very good concept.
First, there are three riddles. And then you have to go and fight, kill the monster (the inner monster?! it's all metaphorically!!) and win the kingdom. And as a reward you get me and my kingdom and boy, my kingdom is mind blowing. It's huge and it's insanly beautiful. You get it doubled. You get back so much more. But first you have to go out there, solve the riddles and fight. And my job as the princess or queen is it to demand relentlessly and without pardon the best of you, because it is in you and needs to be challenged. And when you come home from the good war it is my job to make you feel good, comfort and heal you and encourage you and thank you. I will do that.
Where is your part. If you really want to be with me forever you need to grow up. I can wait, but I can't put up with this bullshit too much longer anymore.
Ha. And what resulted from this Janet thing? I called Ana, the girl in whose apartment I am staying at and now the new rule is nobody can stay there except for me. My love is not coming out here next week and I will yet again have to wait....And all those fucking uncried tears and fierce emotions just gonna scribble whatever they will into my heart and my job as an artist will be to decipher it and make something out of it..
How do they say? Absence is to love like wind to fire: It extinguishes the small and enkindles the big.
So we will see.
Whether you are ready to see that you ARE a prince.
'Done Wrong'
The wind is ruthless
The trees shake angry fingers at the sky
The people hunch their shoulders
Hold their collars over their ears and run by
It’s a cold rain
It’s a hard rain
Like the kind that you find in songs
I guess that makes me the jerk with the heartache
Here to sing you about how I’ve been done wrong
And I am sitting, watching
Out the window of the coffee shop
And I am waiting, waiting
Waiting for it to let up
I am rocking like a cradle
Warming my hands with the cup in between
I am leaning over the table
Holding my face over the steam
And before it gets so cold
That the rain turns to snow
There’s just a couple things
I’d like to know
Like how could you do nothing
And say, I’m doing my best
How could you take almost everything
And then come back for the rest
How could you beg me to stay,
Reach out your hands and plead
And then pack up your eyes and run away
As soon as I agreed
It just all slips
Away so slowly
You don’t even notice till you’ve lost a lot
I’ve been like one of those zombies
In vegas
Pouring quarters into a slot
And now I’m tired
And I am broke
And I feel stupid and I feel used
And I’m at the end of my little rope
And I am swinging back and forth
About you
Before it gets so cold
That the rain turns to snow
There’s just a couple things
I’d like to know
Like how could you do nothing
And say, I’m doing my best
How could you take almost everything
And then come back for the rest
How could you beg me to stay,
Reach out your hands and plead
And then pack up your eyes and run away
As soon as I agreed
People like her absolutely encourage me to go further on my way of musical exploration. The only thing I am really lacking still, is the courage to go on stage and perform no matter what and get better right there. I am still so scared but I will get over it. I know it.
Ah, yeah, life. I was just thinking today while I was cleaning: Doesn't this bitch Janet have a least bit sense of decency and respect? Maybe she is not aware of it, but I don't get to see my love very much. What the fuck. You wanna spend the night with us??? WHAT THE FUCK???? I shouldn't have played it cool. I should have reacted cool but tell him what I think about THAT. Why doesn't she go to one of her thousand lovers that she betrayed her ex with? Huh? Why does she have to spoil one of the rare opportunities for me to be alone with my love?? WHY doesn't he get that and told her by himself???? So helpful, my love, you are so fucking helpful.
I say: FIRST THINGS FIRST. First you show me that this is going to work. First you give me what I need. You say I am never happy, it s never enough. But hey wait a minute, read with me these lyrics:
'How could you do nothing and say I'm doing my best'?
That's how I feel. I don't know how difficult really your situation is and how much of a big accomplishment it is for you to actually come out here and visit me, but hey, it's me who makes it a beautiful thing then. Don't get me wrong, i love you. I love being with you. And you make me feel good. You are funny. You make me laugh and I feel how much you love me and care for me. But I haven't seen the effort coming yet, the effort the prince has to make to get the princess.
See, I am going to stick to that from now on. I think it is a great idea that we can learn from fairy tales... The tasks the prince has to accomplish before getting the princess. Very good concept.
First, there are three riddles. And then you have to go and fight, kill the monster (the inner monster?! it's all metaphorically!!) and win the kingdom. And as a reward you get me and my kingdom and boy, my kingdom is mind blowing. It's huge and it's insanly beautiful. You get it doubled. You get back so much more. But first you have to go out there, solve the riddles and fight. And my job as the princess or queen is it to demand relentlessly and without pardon the best of you, because it is in you and needs to be challenged. And when you come home from the good war it is my job to make you feel good, comfort and heal you and encourage you and thank you. I will do that.
Where is your part. If you really want to be with me forever you need to grow up. I can wait, but I can't put up with this bullshit too much longer anymore.
Ha. And what resulted from this Janet thing? I called Ana, the girl in whose apartment I am staying at and now the new rule is nobody can stay there except for me. My love is not coming out here next week and I will yet again have to wait....And all those fucking uncried tears and fierce emotions just gonna scribble whatever they will into my heart and my job as an artist will be to decipher it and make something out of it..
How do they say? Absence is to love like wind to fire: It extinguishes the small and enkindles the big.
So we will see.
Whether you are ready to see that you ARE a prince.
'Done Wrong'
The wind is ruthless
The trees shake angry fingers at the sky
The people hunch their shoulders
Hold their collars over their ears and run by
It’s a cold rain
It’s a hard rain
Like the kind that you find in songs
I guess that makes me the jerk with the heartache
Here to sing you about how I’ve been done wrong
And I am sitting, watching
Out the window of the coffee shop
And I am waiting, waiting
Waiting for it to let up
I am rocking like a cradle
Warming my hands with the cup in between
I am leaning over the table
Holding my face over the steam
And before it gets so cold
That the rain turns to snow
There’s just a couple things
I’d like to know
Like how could you do nothing
And say, I’m doing my best
How could you take almost everything
And then come back for the rest
How could you beg me to stay,
Reach out your hands and plead
And then pack up your eyes and run away
As soon as I agreed
It just all slips
Away so slowly
You don’t even notice till you’ve lost a lot
I’ve been like one of those zombies
In vegas
Pouring quarters into a slot
And now I’m tired
And I am broke
And I feel stupid and I feel used
And I’m at the end of my little rope
And I am swinging back and forth
About you
Before it gets so cold
That the rain turns to snow
There’s just a couple things
I’d like to know
Like how could you do nothing
And say, I’m doing my best
How could you take almost everything
And then come back for the rest
How could you beg me to stay,
Reach out your hands and plead
And then pack up your eyes and run away
As soon as I agreed
Friday, April 07, 2006
the bar, anais nin and number five
By the way,
I am sitting right now in the restaurant/bar that I read Anais Nin in with my wife, back in the days, yeah.
And that's where I met number 5.
you know...you understand wife, right?
And he called me the other day. And send me a message
'Hey Beautiful. All is well with me. Still just doing school, work and music. I miss u, and want 2 see you. Hope you have some time 4 me.'
Yeah RIGHT!!!!
You hope that your romantic visionary got rid of her lover and her relationship and has time to make this dream come ture?
yeah right.
don't fuck with me.
It makes me angry.
and the combination of worrying about love, life, this bar, anais nin, my wife and number five
makes me wonder
and that, did I say that already
makes me fucking angry!!!!!
I am sitting right now in the restaurant/bar that I read Anais Nin in with my wife, back in the days, yeah.
And that's where I met number 5.
you know...you understand wife, right?
And he called me the other day. And send me a message
'Hey Beautiful. All is well with me. Still just doing school, work and music. I miss u, and want 2 see you. Hope you have some time 4 me.'
Yeah RIGHT!!!!
You hope that your romantic visionary got rid of her lover and her relationship and has time to make this dream come ture?
yeah right.
don't fuck with me.
It makes me angry.
and the combination of worrying about love, life, this bar, anais nin, my wife and number five
makes me wonder
and that, did I say that already
makes me fucking angry!!!!!
when jealousy kicks in
yeah. jealousy. we all know this feeling. it means, we are not perfect. it means we are probably not real Christians, Buddhists or Muslims after all. Means we are human becomings, I GUESS.
You know this feeling when you get a sick feeling from being too much in love. Too intense, too meaningful, too much for your fucking age.
See, someone told me. Why wait with marrying? I mean, there was this girl, she was with a guy for six years, broke up and married a guy that she knew for six months then. That's probably a feeling of certainty or despair that makes things pretty clear, doesn't it.
I admit, it feels kinda good to be on my own. I live alone now, in an apartment of my friend, for a month. I am back to NORMAL, I reconnected to my creative inner self, I can breathe and live. I am sad and frustrated that I saw my boyfriend in the last 21 days for only 3 wonderful days, but actually it feels good to be able to go to a restaurant, drink a wine, think and write and be by myself without having to deal with ANYBODY. yah!
Then he finally can come again. Monday. But this time his ride is Janet, the only girl in this world I just cannot trust with regards to him. She is a fucking snake and I know that. She is filthy. But she is also the one person he could connect to as a friend. (WHAT IS A FRIEND in America????) I told him how I feel about her. Just as he told me about all the guys I am friends with and that he cannot trust and feels bad about.
Yes, I am JEALOUS, jealous that she is the one he can actually 'talk' to. Great. Am I your best friend or not? Ok. relax. So She needs a place to CRASH. He told her she could crash with US. and asks me whether thats OKAY with me.
Halleluja! What am I supposed to say now, huh? Of course I have to play cool and say it is okay.
But DON'T FUCKING ASK ME TWICE!!!! I might start thinking and find its not okay. What the fuck. I never made you sleep in the same room like my guy friends. Ever. and the only time I actually visited one of them was when you couldn't fucking pick me up from the train station. At the night before my birthday. FCUK THAT!!!!
You can have your friends. Go ahead. I ll play cool. I get along with her, in fact, I was 'friends' (Acquaintance!) with her before you. WHATEVER!
But all in all - right now I feel so WEIRD. and I feel so exhausted. I want to go back and live my life. I mean, thats what I do right now, too, of course, but it's very obvious to me, that I cannot stay in America even though I love you very much. I was ready to move to fucking Zimbabwe with Mugabe and everything when I was in love with David. But that was impulsive and crazy. That was a one minute decision. That was absolutely out of this world. And Zimbabwe is not America. After all.
My mother moved to Europe, for herself first and then she stayed there for my Dad. That's love, huh? But she was never happy. Maybe because she wasn't in balance herself, whatever you can blame it on, but matter of fact, she always carried this extreme homesickness inside herself. When you've been to Alaska you'll understand. The energy there is AMAZING. It blows you away. And whenever she went there and came back she looked ten years younger, blossoming, energetic.
I am NOT going to repeat her fate. That's not my job. I am the one with roots, and I realized I need them to keep on growing. You were the one who said you'd follow me whereever and support my studies and everything. Because you are not bound. I don't know love, I don't know. Everybody is bound to some extend. It seems more and more like an extreme decision to me to cut everything off and go somewhere entirely new... Your life might be like that and lead you there, I probably wouldn't mind living in Latin America. But sorry, I am here since six months and I know already that I can't stay here. I am going to study at the east coast next school year, but I have this feeling in my little toe, that even that won't convince me. It simply feels WRONG to me. For me, my life, my personality, my way.
I don't whether that means I don't love you enough. I hope it doesn't. It's just, I don't have to REPEAT my parents fate. I don't want to, matter of factly. I don't. East Europe is freaking exploding right now. That's where I wanna be. I want to live in Italy. Or Greece. Or Romania, for God's sake. But not the States. No offense, but even you don't really like it here. But I guess that's not the point. Unfortunately.
Berlin, I'll be back. I have to move on. Maybe not Berlin. Maybe Paris. Maybe Bucharest. I can't stay in Missouri for you. My father was right.... I am not the kind of person that can stay anywhere because of a guy. It's not good for me and what I always felt I have to do in my life. Me too, I dream of a family in the country side. Don't get me wrong. But if it matters to me, where that would be, and to you rather not, what should we do????? Follow you or follow me????
It makes me think of L. Cohen's song...
'I can't follow you my love. You cannot follow me'
It aches.
You know this feeling when you get a sick feeling from being too much in love. Too intense, too meaningful, too much for your fucking age.
See, someone told me. Why wait with marrying? I mean, there was this girl, she was with a guy for six years, broke up and married a guy that she knew for six months then. That's probably a feeling of certainty or despair that makes things pretty clear, doesn't it.
I admit, it feels kinda good to be on my own. I live alone now, in an apartment of my friend, for a month. I am back to NORMAL, I reconnected to my creative inner self, I can breathe and live. I am sad and frustrated that I saw my boyfriend in the last 21 days for only 3 wonderful days, but actually it feels good to be able to go to a restaurant, drink a wine, think and write and be by myself without having to deal with ANYBODY. yah!
Then he finally can come again. Monday. But this time his ride is Janet, the only girl in this world I just cannot trust with regards to him. She is a fucking snake and I know that. She is filthy. But she is also the one person he could connect to as a friend. (WHAT IS A FRIEND in America????) I told him how I feel about her. Just as he told me about all the guys I am friends with and that he cannot trust and feels bad about.
Yes, I am JEALOUS, jealous that she is the one he can actually 'talk' to. Great. Am I your best friend or not? Ok. relax. So She needs a place to CRASH. He told her she could crash with US. and asks me whether thats OKAY with me.
Halleluja! What am I supposed to say now, huh? Of course I have to play cool and say it is okay.
But DON'T FUCKING ASK ME TWICE!!!! I might start thinking and find its not okay. What the fuck. I never made you sleep in the same room like my guy friends. Ever. and the only time I actually visited one of them was when you couldn't fucking pick me up from the train station. At the night before my birthday. FCUK THAT!!!!
You can have your friends. Go ahead. I ll play cool. I get along with her, in fact, I was 'friends' (Acquaintance!) with her before you. WHATEVER!
But all in all - right now I feel so WEIRD. and I feel so exhausted. I want to go back and live my life. I mean, thats what I do right now, too, of course, but it's very obvious to me, that I cannot stay in America even though I love you very much. I was ready to move to fucking Zimbabwe with Mugabe and everything when I was in love with David. But that was impulsive and crazy. That was a one minute decision. That was absolutely out of this world. And Zimbabwe is not America. After all.
My mother moved to Europe, for herself first and then she stayed there for my Dad. That's love, huh? But she was never happy. Maybe because she wasn't in balance herself, whatever you can blame it on, but matter of fact, she always carried this extreme homesickness inside herself. When you've been to Alaska you'll understand. The energy there is AMAZING. It blows you away. And whenever she went there and came back she looked ten years younger, blossoming, energetic.
I am NOT going to repeat her fate. That's not my job. I am the one with roots, and I realized I need them to keep on growing. You were the one who said you'd follow me whereever and support my studies and everything. Because you are not bound. I don't know love, I don't know. Everybody is bound to some extend. It seems more and more like an extreme decision to me to cut everything off and go somewhere entirely new... Your life might be like that and lead you there, I probably wouldn't mind living in Latin America. But sorry, I am here since six months and I know already that I can't stay here. I am going to study at the east coast next school year, but I have this feeling in my little toe, that even that won't convince me. It simply feels WRONG to me. For me, my life, my personality, my way.
I don't whether that means I don't love you enough. I hope it doesn't. It's just, I don't have to REPEAT my parents fate. I don't want to, matter of factly. I don't. East Europe is freaking exploding right now. That's where I wanna be. I want to live in Italy. Or Greece. Or Romania, for God's sake. But not the States. No offense, but even you don't really like it here. But I guess that's not the point. Unfortunately.
Berlin, I'll be back. I have to move on. Maybe not Berlin. Maybe Paris. Maybe Bucharest. I can't stay in Missouri for you. My father was right.... I am not the kind of person that can stay anywhere because of a guy. It's not good for me and what I always felt I have to do in my life. Me too, I dream of a family in the country side. Don't get me wrong. But if it matters to me, where that would be, and to you rather not, what should we do????? Follow you or follow me????
It makes me think of L. Cohen's song...
'I can't follow you my love. You cannot follow me'
It aches.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Lord knows I can enjoy Myself
Well you'd probably need around 300 $ to go to Frisco he said. Depending on how long you'd stay.
No! I said. No! What for? It's 100 $ for the bus back and forth. Where is the money?
But you'd have to stay at a hotel.
Lord, no! I'd stay with friends or people from the hospitality club! I'd eat once a day and maybe they would feed me a little too....
You just don't know how to enjoy yourself! God, Piranha! You don't go there to starve! You go there and buy crazy stuff that you'd never buy otherwise and have a good time!!!
I paused. SERIOUSLY puzzled.
Wait, wait. This is not the way I travel honey! No ways! What the fuck! what is eating your brain? Is capitalism slowly corrupting your mind from the inside?? BUYING stuff! there is nothing wrong with that but if you can't there is nothing wrong with that either! For Gods sake! Look around how beautiful this world is, how he/she made it for us!
I'd go there to see and to do things. I'd go there to live, encounter adventures openminded, my arms wide open to whatever may come. This is the way I travel.
AND DON'T you DARE saying I don't know how to enjoy myself ever again! My way of enjoying things is simple and beautiful and satisfying and LASTING. the other day I was walking down the street and had this flashback to this trip we made to North France for three weeks. it was cheaper than your 300$ for Frisco!!! three weeks! I still FEED of this trip! I felt so miserable and just thinking of it made me happy, you know, JOYFUL.
Well, it s good you have trips too, to have flashbacks to he said dryly. I have that too...
well i hope you enjoy them I snapped back.
but it s sad i thought. It's sad.
the way how I learned to enjoy is not at ALL connected to money in any way. Drugs cost. If you steal them or engage in criminal activities to get them it's wrong. What goes around comes around. Called Karma. Products cost. Labels cost. Prestige costs.
THE PURE SHEER JOY THAT GOD SPILLED OVER EVERYTHING HE CREATED DOESN'T COST ANYTHING.
or whoever created it. you get my drift.
you just need the eyes and the will to see. and there is nothing more enjoyable and beautiful for me than being on the road, with one dry piece of bread in one pocket and some water in a bottle in the other pocket. Seriously thats it. And then there are people that you meet on the road, good hearted people and one helps the other. Thats how it has been working for me ever since I stopped going with my dad on trips.
No! I said. No! What for? It's 100 $ for the bus back and forth. Where is the money?
But you'd have to stay at a hotel.
Lord, no! I'd stay with friends or people from the hospitality club! I'd eat once a day and maybe they would feed me a little too....
You just don't know how to enjoy yourself! God, Piranha! You don't go there to starve! You go there and buy crazy stuff that you'd never buy otherwise and have a good time!!!
I paused. SERIOUSLY puzzled.
Wait, wait. This is not the way I travel honey! No ways! What the fuck! what is eating your brain? Is capitalism slowly corrupting your mind from the inside?? BUYING stuff! there is nothing wrong with that but if you can't there is nothing wrong with that either! For Gods sake! Look around how beautiful this world is, how he/she made it for us!
I'd go there to see and to do things. I'd go there to live, encounter adventures openminded, my arms wide open to whatever may come. This is the way I travel.
AND DON'T you DARE saying I don't know how to enjoy myself ever again! My way of enjoying things is simple and beautiful and satisfying and LASTING. the other day I was walking down the street and had this flashback to this trip we made to North France for three weeks. it was cheaper than your 300$ for Frisco!!! three weeks! I still FEED of this trip! I felt so miserable and just thinking of it made me happy, you know, JOYFUL.
Well, it s good you have trips too, to have flashbacks to he said dryly. I have that too...
well i hope you enjoy them I snapped back.
but it s sad i thought. It's sad.
the way how I learned to enjoy is not at ALL connected to money in any way. Drugs cost. If you steal them or engage in criminal activities to get them it's wrong. What goes around comes around. Called Karma. Products cost. Labels cost. Prestige costs.
THE PURE SHEER JOY THAT GOD SPILLED OVER EVERYTHING HE CREATED DOESN'T COST ANYTHING.
or whoever created it. you get my drift.
you just need the eyes and the will to see. and there is nothing more enjoyable and beautiful for me than being on the road, with one dry piece of bread in one pocket and some water in a bottle in the other pocket. Seriously thats it. And then there are people that you meet on the road, good hearted people and one helps the other. Thats how it has been working for me ever since I stopped going with my dad on trips.
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