right is wrong is right is wrong is right is wrong is right is ... is?

In a way it helped me to work with loaded people. I learned to deal with it. And also, I learned to allow myself to indulge, a concept that had me guilt-ridden all along.

But, today, I read in a magazine (that I usually enjoy to read) these short interviews with people in Berlin about what they just had bought and why.
It didn't occur to me, that you don't have to be THAT loaded in order to actually buy relatively expensive clothing. Or key-chains for that matter.
A designer KEY-chain (a KEY chain!) for 81 Euros. The guy said style was important to him.
Good Lord, gracious, where do these people have that kind of money from?
How do they come to spend it that particular way?
A watch for 3600 Euros? The lady interviewed stated she didn't need a watch in particular but she really liked that one so she bought it.
SO SHE JUST BOUGHT IT.
I also just bought a nutbun today, for 1,50 Euros and one beer for 1 Euro. I mention this because it was awkward how I justified that towards myself and my friend. I said, well, I could have had a Falafel with that money, and it would have been dinner right there. But I indulged.

They fired a lady from a supermarket chain here because she took two refund tickets for deposit bottles (in the worth of about 1,30 Euros) that some customer had lost and took it for herself.
She is a mother of three with two grandchildren and had worked there for 31 years.
Her colleagues told on her.
The whole thing was taken to a higher court and today the result came out. Guilty. She can't sue that supermarket chain for firing her.

Because, if you take 1,30, 5 or 100 Euros isn't the point here. It's that you take it.
So I guess indulging in a 1,50 bun with literally no money really is just as bad and irrational as spending 3600 Euros on a watch.

I really just can't get over it.
They looked like NORMAL people. I guess I am really not normal then!
I must be really poor and broke, in fact!

It must be good for the economy also, but I wonder if there is anyone out there who has thought the thought to its very end. Does the economy really have to always grow? Isn't there some sort of way out???
It's like cancer almost.
I am really at a loss
to know
right
from
wrong

broke again

the new month even hasn't started yet and all the money i have for it is gone already for rent, insurance and phonebills.
great! i guess it will be the time of the year to do a 'religious' fasting ritual. I think in Christian tradition there is a fasting time from carneval time (RIGHT NOW!) until eastern. That's EXACTLY the period of time I've got to bridge to get by. I'll have some money to buy food from my assistant job, so I'll manage hopefully. With God on my side :)
Note to self: don't buy handwoven baskets in second-hand shops, don't buy food when you're out and about, don't buy, ahem, yeah, food. and no partying, but it's not like I've partied at all lately. I've been just invited to all these events. Gee. ;0)

It's also time and take a chance to start getting fit and lean and more disciplined! no more indulgent desserts in our house! hm. maybe only here and there?
:)

hard not to

hard not to write.
her hand on his legs, barcadi bottle. soap and skin singing like a dying swan, you in my arms, my touching your soul, how it felt, how it felt, when we were.

dreams buried, in shatters and fragments. she is fucking good. damn.

he spit his venom into all directions, i asked the wrong question and suddenly i was no friend no more.
there are people who can't take a wrong step. who can't take a wrong word. who can't take a wrong question.
we are so frail and fragile against these towering walls.
we have to learn to be upset. outraged. outspoken.
it hurts. it hurts when your actions are counted like pennies and intentions don't matter at
all

some friends we just have to let go
like lovers

maybe i really just wanted
to get something out of it

competition

other than my sister I slow down when I run into competitive situations when tension hits a certain degree.
I want to be loved maybe, just the way I be.
I think maybe I let it all slide. With a veil of salty tears I swept the ashes behind my dreams and let everything down.
Too many words maybe
disguised in intentions
dreams are still swirling. Life is taking it slow with me.
And I am thinking of different situations, such as driving over the hills into the valley, those Romanian clowns at the street side, the truck and later my broken car.

I got to take it easy. Grades don't matter so much except for you need scholarships.
My natural reaction is to say: I don't need anything.
But still, I am hiding behind this screen and fear the outcome.
Too many jobs and too little capacity to go without sleep anymore.


...the way he put his hand around my face echoed inside. reverberated in my soul.
i don't know who he is but his smile pierced me like an early morning ray.

Aye!

I can't hold it back!
I am gone like the murmurs of times
past
Ah, what a sweet dust covering my soul!
Don't
you
want
to
go
for
love

exception

I know I said it was gonna be over. But then there is a night full of dreams filtered by white.
And you go and can't belief your own eyes.
THE LAUGHTER IS SHAKING YOUR BODY LIKE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE
Listen, did you hear the sound?
Mostly I hear the echoes of my thoughts.
The dolphins swam with us...
What, what, you can't belief the thread?
Robbing up to the beach, sand against your skin.
Laughing in a whirlwind like swans singing on their way to meet death
Seegras on your head
Hair you flow away
Things sound so sweet when love is knocking against your innermost doors

Once, once, once
upon a time!

The hills of Berkeley, so familiar, you don't even have to exit the street

There was peace behind that veil of tears. You can't understand a word of muttering but life's winds are blowing gently, caressing your tortured skin.


Once, once, once upon a time, beneath a hickory tree.

Do you remember the hole in the bark? The nest for unknown stories untold.

Paco, the winds whispers but you're far gone.
Liking the course things take. Violins playing, bestowing meaning on your dust.
What, if you never been gone?
Ah, let me sing it once again!
In the midst of nothing! And you sway, and turn, and quiver and turn!

Once, once, once UPON! A! TIME!

The lead has gone.
Vanished
Only you. In the gray. Mist is covering your tears. Streams ceased in further times. Lightning upon your soul. Give it a chance to come. Break through. Burst in thousdand colors! AH! THE LIGHT!
Darkness is covering my soul, like layers of dirt. Piled on my streets, Gathering from ancient crusts, living up to my mares, of older times. Living up to my dreams of forsaken souls. Giving them peace in Hades, giving in to the crows, knocking gently on my chamber doors

Edgar Allan Poe

She was so sweet, against the obscurity
of vanished dreams
manifested in our lives
hard to take
hard to give
Listening to the grief
taking place in our midst
giving gently pace to forbidden melodies
murmurs of our time






can you give me one more, one more, one more, one more
of your good times

You ain't goin nowhere

Southern France 1995, a summer full of blossoming hopes. My body lean and strong, gliding through the waves, surfacing only to get a fresh breath of air.
Hooray, ride me high, tomorrow is the day my bride is going to come...
Dad listened to his Dylan Tape on end and the midsummer night storms washed my dreams ashore. La vida esta muy muy muy extrano!

alone

his dishes were dirty, piling up in the kitchen. foot prints all over the floor and the trashcans stinking. the mattress of his bed halfway slouching on the floor, the frame broken. he had run out of filters and papers again, talking to some Musician in Kansas City on skype.
I made pasta out of the few ingredients I could find in his fridge that weren´t rotten yet. The coffee machine was broken too and the cupboards unbelievably sticky and dirty. Official letters spilled over the kitchen table right next to his socks hanging on a laundry rack. Job center. Unpaid bills. Rent two months behind.
You need a label like us he says in the other room to the guy in Kansas City and then a couple of words in my language talking to me, maybe to impress him.
Can´t get to see his kid in a way that would make a normal relationship possible. And the laws are so fucked man.
He´s a hustler, baby and you know it.
later I sink into oblivion on his insanely comfortable black couch. talking about this and that. his kid. the laws. about America. about Europe. the differences. about, when it is time to leave.
and suddenly, like clouds being torn by a ray of light pushing through his attention focuses on this one question. never have i heard him listen as attentively before as I try to explain what it is like to perform music and feel this certain kind of energy flow and exchange.
i can´t explain.
this man is a wreck.
he is a mystery.

the bright side

it isn't so easy to live with people. all these different fucking emotions. really.
always cutting wings because we are so damn scared for our own space to whither and die. never indulging in trying to experience the new, the other, the idea.

but he took my face into his hands and smiled
like cupid
melting my ice

like smokerings curling up behind your shoulder

Raven black boy
Curls in my mind, like smokerings at the bay
At the Egyptian Theater
Youcame after many eternities of waiting
Insecure just as I was
Walking up to me
I closed the laptop
And my eyes
Trying to remember
Who we were
Who we were
In that night

Highstreet

i know it should't be about competition, but you still beat most of them, Emily.
I am in Kreuzberg.
It's evening. Massaged my friend. Damn. I really do love this work.
Now I am listening to Emily.
And the streets are rough out there.
Met this lady at the Falafel store. She was a connecting thread and things fall into place.
Watched people come and go, up and down the streets.
Some artists create this installation in a viewing window. Red, red, chaotic.
I am thinking of the English German girl in the U9. How fucked up she looked like. How truly fucked up. And she smiled finally, and she gave me one of her "Nimm 2" candys. We smoked a cigarillo at Osloer Str. and exchanged stories. They are making coffee in the oven where they lit a fire. No electricity in the house.
Homeless since May or so. Loves Berlin. Been here since October 2007. But she is only 19!
Her eyes so blue, light, with a dark ring around them. Intriguing. She put her hair out of her face and tried to brush it with her fingers when she noticed I smiled.
Things are weird in life.
Definitely.

disappearing

i am so disappointed now, i can bareley breathe. i try not to, but i feel it rolling in like high tide.
i feel like it washes away the restraints. the last hopes and beliefs. faith. and yes, strings losen and they break apart. porose and rotten.
yeah, there is some sense in there, sometimes. and yet. it's good to have the other perspective. the utter fucking betrayal. yes man, we are human. there are artifacts. the human condition isn't tied to instincts and fucking fate only anymore. maybe in a bigger sense, but in the daily game, there are choices. there is freedom of choice.

i guess that goes only so far as our current conditions allow.
i am watering down my own anger
i am watering down
down
down
down

i love you

it is impossible to know why or how
even though
i have heard the theory, for sure. psychology, sociology, pathology, folly.
we failed in practice
and yet

i

love

te iubesc.

alexandra leaving

sometimes I have to go back. listen to that song again. feel myself again. remind myself of those times long gone and faded.
the moment you walked into the room, so definite and declared. the lines drawn and in my arms your eyes broke and my heart quivered in unimaginable strain.

'...do not say the moment was imagined to not stoop to strategies like this...as someone long prepared for this to happen, go firmly to the window, drink it in...
exquisite music, Alexandra laughing, your first commitments tangible again...
and you who had the honor of her evening and by that honor had your own restored, say good bye to Alexandra leaving....say goodbye to Alexandra leaving with her Lord....even though she sleeps on your satin even though she wakes you with a kiss..do not say the moment was imagined...do not stoop to strategies like this...
as someone long prepared for the occasion, in full command of every plan you wrecked...do not choose a cowards explanation... that hides behind the cause and the effect....
and you who were bewildered by a meaning, who's code was broken, crucifix uncrossed...say goodbye to Alexandra leaving...then say goodbye to Alexandra lost'


still, at a loss of words

King Harvest

King Harvest

Driving the old silver Toyota. Broken window. Blankets to cover myself up during night drives up Topanga Canyon or the Hollywood Hills to the Valley.
Gallons of water in the clamped trunk for the thirsty broken radiator. And King Harvest will surely come on tape. The crackeling sound of the old tape and the blistering palmtrees in the wind. I can't forget what was, I can't ever forget what was. Can't forget my second home. The delighting naivite of West Coast folks, the refreshing superficialities that build and build until they accumulate in a big deep well.
This it is.
I can't get over it. 404. 101. 110. Sepulveda...the Massage Place and the Serbian Metro Diner in Culver City near the Jazz Life Music Restaurant with Caribbean food.
I probably never will. The taste of the Magnolia Trees in the meadow.
It's where I left my heart, where I grew up, where I loved to the moon and back.
...pretty soon the carneval at the edge of town...King Harvest will surely come.

crush

sweet sweet
little crush
hush, hush
lullaby
does he know it
i don't know
daisies are sleeping
winter is towering
sweet little laughters
good moments and faith
my little hand covered held warm
sleepy sleepy
hush lullaby
sweet little crush
makes days fly by

setting sails on the frozen seas

nothing like a sun filled morning.
my breath crystallizing in the frosty air, I throw my hair back and start walking down along the creek. ducks, ravens, puffy snow heavy on the branches....mysteries of a long night, mingled in one powerful image penetrating my eye, my soul, my mind.
it is weird, and i maybe i shouldn't talk about this. but it feels as if things are closing in. maybe it's too early yet to even think of it. maybe i should just let the feeling float on this eternal sea until it manifests in action.
but i want to sing a little melody. together with the robin. greet the newborn sun and leave the death of a freezing night behind.
traces are frozen into the snow. dogshit. footssteps. of men, women, children. of wheelchairs, bikes, tricycles and cars. trucks, taxis, busses. and airplanes posting their marks into the clear sky as if to write coded messages for skilled eyes to dissect.
i want to sing with the robin. with dylan in 'you're a big girl now'. "Bird on the horizon, sittin' on a fence,
He's singin' his song for me at his own expense.
And I'm just like that bird, oh, oh,
Singin' just for you. "
but even that song is gone now. it's new territory now. like that ice on the fjords in Sweden and Norway on which Chris skated the other day. The whole morning. On the frozen sea. the throbbing feeling has faded. there is ice covering the wounds.i slowly recover. see old ropes, rotting and decaying in the gray inbetweens of our incapabilities to cut them clean.
i let them go. let the ship sail.
say hello to the world for me.

i was sitting in the green chair, across the room from you.
you, on the violet white blanket with flower print. your sister gave it to me.
our bed.
the window, and soft, the green behind the screens.
cloudy, your hair, and soft your playing, sitting there, but gone with the wind.
i watched the light around us and the warmth.
stark and clear a thought grew inside: this is the good old time. now. and i will remember this forever. this moment of you, and me, and the beauty, so pervasive.
it was a moment made for eternity and doomed to fleet and whither then. dissolving in the salty streams of life.
it was the beginning of the end. like bells ringing beautifully the night to sleep.

excorcisms

his insecurities made me ache. the self conscious nervous laughter at all the wrong moments dooming the situation to feel uneasy and secretly I cringed inside.
only when pretending to be asleep I could let my guard down a little and just enjoy the closeness. daylight made it impossible however. his close drawing in, his inability to listen and wait and sit back to watch things grow left me deserted in my own confusion. already as we drove down the autobahn i felt it wasn't LA and it wasn't PCH or 101. A weird kaleidoscope of things had swirled me around. A weekend with the quality of the eye of a storm, sweeping my away into the big stream of life, rushing me to the seas.
But he was the X. The unknown. The incomprehensible. His interpretations sucked the reel away. My mind formed around the feelings, leaving my wounds and love and attachments wash away as the music got pushed against the four corners of the room and through the locked door. Only for a few moments my ghosts and demons lingered, getting all tangled up trying to manifest just to get sucked away in the very next instance, dissolving in the wild.
his insecurities, his wounds, his broke.
too much to care for. too much talking. too much reflection. too much light. too much of everything.
i just had to hide. i can't break through this one. it only works when it's meant to be. and torn walls can build up in disguise, within the protected.

priorities gone astray

it´s,. at times, the comic amusement that triggers me to do that. all day i don´t feel like it and then at night, i do one mouse click, get on that site and amuse myself in strange manners. almost feeling like staring at an accident when obviously that´s the last thing one ought to do.
sometimes i think, you better know real well, what you wish for.
if, what you want, is really what you ´d want, if you could get it for real.
so late, i sit, and spend my time. i´m so incredibly far away.