Boredom

Boredom: I am still in love. The frozen state of being changed as the sun and more time for myself came around... I painted the whole weekend with Jeanne d'Arc, a wonderful soulmate I found here in Berlin and spent time at a lake, at an amazing exhibition of an Ethiopian Artist and went to a terrible terrible blues concert.

When I think of him while lying on Jeanne's bed, with the sun on my face and listening to her playing the piano oh so wonderfulyl I feel how I become so soft inside. So terribly terribly tender and soft, I am all softness and love and tenderness for this stranger, it is fucking weird, is it!

And whatever I say, there is always in some corner of my head he being present in my mind. Tonight, as I was biking home, along the riverside with Camilla I told her how beautiful it is to do cayaking. The silence, the sound of paddles on water... And then I realized that in the same time, as I was saying this I imagined somewhere in my stupid little brain David and me cayaking together.

Matter of fact is, that I can imagine doing all these things I love together with him. I cannot only imagine it, but I would love to do it. Of course, he is still a stranger, and maybe after a week or two I would realize that I was wrong and there is no way I can do all these things with him, but thats not the point. The point is, that with my last boyfriend I couldn't imagine spending my holidays with him, for example. Bam! There IS SOMETHING WRONG, when you don't feel like doing that, right? He kept on talking how much he would love to go on a bike trip through Scottland with me. I always felt so sorry when he talked about it but there was no way I could get enthusiastic about it. Sorry, lad, it s simply not on my way!

But for David there would have been a way to spend time. Many ways. It would have been my way then anyways, because I would have love to do that.

*sighs*

life is a bitch.

but I had a nice idea today and I think I am going to do that: My father, who insists on having a handwritten mail contact with me instead of talking on the phone, answered my letter in which I told him how much I would love to have children now by saying that artwork often can be like a child to you, too. I totally got his point and what he was trying to tell me with that.

And today I remembered that, soon after I had met David, I painted a Zimbabwian landscape. I had found the photograph on google, as I was googeling for everything I could find about Zimbabwe (i really think my heart is a dumb little fool, but in a way it s cool, because now, at least, I know a lot about a country I didn't know anything about before I met him).

So I decided that as I hate the idea that the whole thing could vanish in thin air now, as he obviously isn't going to contact me no more, I should do something about it. Writing or calling is out of question. I would feel stupid. But I can go to the police, find out where he lives and drop the painting there with a - handwritten (to honor my dad) - letter to bring this whole thing to an ending.

In the end this painting is our baby. He inspired me and I gave birth to it. It s fantastic, isnt't it...

maktub

fuck i just wrote a post on matkub and now its gone. fuck fuck fuck fuck i fucking hate it!

I am sitting here with friends, nice breakfast (well it s 1 PM now) and am being lazy. and as much as I appreciate LINUX i hate it now because I can'T use it properly and now this post is gone.

fuck

woman's days...

I took a pill in the morning because I knew it was going to hurt. I don't take aspirins, I don't take any antibiotika as long as I can avoid it but since last year I have to swallow those pills...

Blame it on Eve, I don't know. Blame it on anything, it fucking sucks. Well, blame it on me. Whenever I live a balanced life, with enough space and time to do as much sports as I want to, and have enough money to eat healthy food I don't have any problems whatsoever. I don't.
I am just lacking discipline to live the same life under stressy circumstances. I start eating crappy stuff just because I don't have time to cook good stuff out of nothing and no money to buy good stuff or, hell, go to a restaurant with good food.

My mom always told me this story that female native Americans (and I bet other native tribes as well) took 'off' so to say when they had their special days, living in an extra little house/tipi/whateva. However, as odd this might seem to us, it wasn't a punishment, exclusion or anything of that sort, no, it was a privilege. They were able to concentrate on themselves, do some arts, I don't know, gather herbs or whateva. They were allowed to have a space of their own and no stress during those days.

*sighs*

I have to go to work in a minuten because someone called sick and they need help. I feel like collapsing. When I walked up the stairs of the subway I was next to an old woman. I felt like her. It was a torture to walk the stairs up, When I arrived at home the next best thing I could do was lie down and feel miserable. I am paler than ever. I feel that the pill cannot cover all the pain. My body must feel it anyways.

Eve. *ggggrrrrrrrr*

I always wanted to live in a tribal society. fuck it! fuck our society. fuck this fucked up way of living.

the treasure at the end of the rainbow

amadeo said in a comment on my last post 'I don't have any trouble getting over my melancholy...infact I get over it so well that I make sure to savor it at the time. We flow through so many feelings I make sure I roll everyone around in my mouth for a minute.'
isn't that just an adorable and gorgeous way of putting it? I love it.
See, I feel that what I am doing is exactly this. I am so fucking surprised by my own feelings that it is actually totally exciting to wake up the next day and see what will happen and how I will feel.
I thought I indulged into my own feelings and you know, be actually pathetic and 'lackadaisicial' ... However, that doesn't seem to be true. I cannot change my feeling frozen insdide by mere power of my mind. It's just there and I have to accept that. It just happens.
And I roll it aroundin my mouth for a minimum of a minute.
I realized a few things today. The last days I have experienced EVERY DAY something totally weird, I had genuinly incredible, weird, fascinating, interesting encounters, each of which would be worth an own post, saw beautiful things and so on. Yeah, as I said before, life seems to have fun with teasing me with all of this instead of giving me what I am craving for.--- But then again...I wrote in one of my letters to D. that the reason why I think we should have met a second time is to give the reason we met a chance to show. Tonight, however, I thought the exact opposite. I thought, that the reason we met shows anyways no matter how I want it to be. 'maktub'. it is written, as the alchemist in P. Coelho's 'The Alchemist' says.
I don't think that we can judge things or overview things when we are in the middle of the process, so I don'T claim to know any of the reasons we met but I claim that there was a reason to it.
As far as I can see RIGHT NOW, after all, is that the emotions you invoked inside of me, David, made me encounter even crazier things than I did anyways already before. I look differently at the world now. It is beautiful, really. I talk to so many people, feel so intensly and there are so many stories, thoughts and considerations in my mind. And I am able to spread my love and my smiles, when I feel once again how joy is overfloating me. One might think, that circumstances you are partially to be blamed for, make me frustrated and sad and all that. They do, they do, but not in a common way. I have lots of moments I am fulfilled with joy, a very deep sort of joy I feel for life and love and people. I meet people, develop thougths, see things that make me all of the sudden incredibly blissfully happy. I look at the sky then, and feel how I am breathing, how the clouds stroke my eyes and how there is life in us... There is no black and white. There is a rainbow of feelings.

--- And at the end of the rainbow, we all do know, there is a treasure hidden..........

ONE day she was walking in all her beauty down the street when she discovered a small little restaurant with organic food. It was all beautiful, the food prepared with love, the tables decorated in such a lovely way. She had a great lunch there and felt so cosy and safe as the rain was pouring down outside in the cold summer afternoon. After a thought provoking conversation about politics and the state of the world and the western civilisation with a woman next to her in the restaurant she went to use the bathroom.

As she opened the door she saw herself in the mirror right in front of her,- totally unexpected. Slowly, trying to catch her breath she fumbled for the light switch and closed the door. It seemed like an eternity but when she felt she was safe in there she dared to throw a second glance.

There she was. IN all her beauty. Breathtaking. Her eyes so grey and green shimmered like glacier lakes today. Her turquoise earrings underlined them in a perfect matching way, her blue scarf (the one you didn't see yet) wrapped elegantly around her head allowed the viewer to focus on her beautiful eyes and face structure. Striking and distinctive it was, despite its roundness and softness. Her neck and shoulders a perfect line. A cleavage like a goddess. She was beautiful. In her fucked up tattered jeans she used when she painted, her tight jeans jacket... BEAUTIFUL, with her eyes wide open, trying to capture what they saw. They saw beauty. They saw HERSELF.

Slowly the eyes fill with tears. like a well in a moisty meadow. In a broken, overwhelmed whisper she susurrates:

'I wish you could see me like that! ----
I wish you could see me like that.'

Such a waste. such a waste.

She can't believe what she is seeing. Such a beautiful, big, proud and graciousn and tender woman she sees. So colorful, so radiant, so aspiring, so full of love, full of hope, trusting energy, loyality, creativity..... so caring, so deep, so thoughtful, concerned...

'I wish, oh how I wish you could see me like this....'

Her whispering voice makes her cry. There is nothing pretensious in her way now. She isn't feeling theatrical or like a drama queen or anything like that. She feels rather like cut out of time and space frames. It is all genuine feeling there, she can't move, she is startled almost, caught by surprise, something nails her down into the ground in front of this bathroom mirror that reflects her in a way she didn't see herself before. She suddenly sees more than she did when she merely looked inside of herself. This is different. The well is flowing...

'IT's as if I was looking at my own destiny'.

Now her reflection is all blurred, it s like saltwater pulling a veil over her head in sorrow.

'It's as if I was looking at my own destiny but I can'T get hold of it, I can't touch it because it is something I have to live, to evolve into...it's nothing I can pursue and catch but something I have to become in an unpossesive way....in a loving way that sets me free.'

...

'It's as if I was looking at my own destiny and I can't get it now because I have to become myself all what I love so much in you. I have to become what I love in you, evolve into it, grow into it, make it grow, explore...

BUT I CAN'T TOUCH YOU.'

The water reaches a tension it cannot hold. The form explodes, the tears roll down the shivering cheeks, the vellicating lips, little sobs make this earth quake.

'It's as if I was looking at my own destiny...

She haws...'...I wish, I wish I could make love to you...' ... ' but it'd be like fucking with my own destiny. And you don't do that.

You don't do that.
You don't fuck with your own destiny.
And it hurts so much...

it's such a hard and difficult process to grow up...'

Her whispers echoed in the blue(s) bathroom in which the beautiful fharsi persian women who owned that restaurant had placed flowers to make even the restroom beautiful... because beauty is what feeds our souls...

ice

I tried to cry.
It would help I guess.
But this flower didn't die. My tears watered it long before I buried my hopes. My heart skipped two seasons. From staggering and blissful and bloomy spring with oh so sweet aroma it switched to winter, freezing cold, no time for dying but slow icing up.
It hurts. It takes my breath away like chilli cold winter air did when I was a kid and woke up early in winter mornings to watch shooting stars so bright and seemingly close.


I was totally cool about it. My friends who know about the David story all asked me whether I met him this weekend. Because they knew he promised to see me this weekend. And they know I told him already twice that I am okay if it doesn't work out if he only lets me know. It s not fair the other way around. Obviously. But I was cool. I said, I didn't expect it anyways and that I guess he is kind of postponing the decision (which fucking decision though? we were just supposed to meet to put things into perspective. not to fuck dammit) and doesn't notify me assuming that he could keep me at it, by letting me wait in a vacuum.

But I am not a god damn product that you can conserve in a vacuum.

I pack my stuff and leave. I see the wonders and magic of the world, I sing songs, I meet people, I laugh, love, hate, feel, think, do. All that. Without you.

When I saw this young mother with her little boy on her lap the tears dwelled up in my eyes. I still couldn't cry but it stabbed my heart. I am so childish.

prayer/transcending love

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change
Courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference

...

I should have hatred for you
But I do not have any
And I have always loved you
Oh you have taught me plenty
The whole time I'd never seen
All you had spread before me
The whole time I'd never seen
All I'd need was inside me
Now I feel so different
I feel so different
I feel so different
I feel so different
I feel so different

(Sinead O'Connor, 'I feel so different')


It's four years ago now that she met Olivier. They saw each other one and a half days in a little provincial town in Russia. I guess the effective time they spent together was maybe also around five hours. They walked on the frozen Wolga and sang 'Champs Elysees' as the sun was blistering in the cold. She showed him all the corners still so dear to her heart, all the streets in which she had learned how to speak russian. It was his first day in this huge melancholic country and he was heading for a very interesting and promising period of his life in which he wished to find to himself after having spent too many hours in the psychiatry and in dark corners, stoned, lost in himself.

This girl just opened all those doors for him. She introduced him in such an intimate and mind blowing way to this city which would be his home for the next months. All she did was crazy and unique and original. And he was up to it. They climbed a scaffold to watch the sunset and talked about how sex wasn't the most important thing about love. She was a virging back then, still, but of course he wouldn'T have guessed that. BUt it also didn't matter. Silently they inhaled the magic energy, saturated with setting sun rays...And they WERE, and they FELT, and I guess they KNEW...

When she left he was the last to say goodbye too. She slipped a little note into his hand and so did he and it was a fascinating moment of recognition when they realized that each had had the same idea, the same need. It was just an affirmation of what the first eyecontact had shown to him. It hadn'T shown anything to her though. I'd say it was due to her self hatred and her disbelief in what she wished most for which she had back then. With which she was constantly batteling...

She left and her heart was wide and big and pulsating like lava at the very core of volcanos. Glowing, viscous and powerful.

AS she was standing at the trainstation she suddenly heard a sound and her heart jumped right into her throat: it was him, with Steph, his friend from France, running up to her. Breathless he gasped: Djina, Djina, stay here with me. Please. I really want you to stay here. You must stay here. PLease. Please.

Shocked her mind backflipped. Zillions of possibilities what she could do. No one ever had asked her to stay in such a way before. No one had ever made the effort. The magic. Being a lunatic. Daring, risking, rebelling. Oh damn, damn, why oh why wasn't she a rebel. She always hated that about herself. She wished so much for being a rebel, a revolutionary, just like her gorgeous sister. Just like...like.... But...it all boiled down to the very somber and rational fact that she couldn't.

- At times love seems so much more intense and deep when it involves some sort of tragic. Romeo and Juliet. Tristan and Isolde. ... The tenderness they showed when they exchanged their scarfs to at least have something. The way he pressed his chewing gum in a last desperate move on the window through which she was looking with such a grief and joy in her heart she hadn't felt for a very very long time. The way they looked at each other as the train slowly left. The desperate attempt to hold it back by the mere power of eyesight and heartfelt desperate yearning for the unknown, the rediscovery...

The whole night on her way to St. Petersburg she hold on to his scarf and inhaled his odor like the most precious life giving essence....

It is blue and white. Striped.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The mystery of this love has never vanished. The sweet mails were written in awe of what had happened. The yearning was so delicate and so lyrical and so tender and so cherishing.

It was food for her soul, shacked and tortured by her own mind. Transcendental sexual healing maybe.

The mystery and beauty of this love has never vanished because in its fragility and uniqueness it has never been conquered nor has it been defeated. It fell asleep but a few words on MSN would revive and resurrect it. Of course they wouldn'T talk about it. No, by no means. ONly reminiscing. Speaking the old magic words. The wisdom. The love. The usaid. Unwritten.

He lives in ENgland now. His English is so much better. His little stepson Leo is one of the sweetest little creatures in the world. As far as the pics show and what he tells about him every now and the. His girlfriend seems to be one courageous and strong woman. I guess she is exactly what he needed. At times they talk about how they would visit each other. None of them has made it yet. Although there was a lot talking going on about it. I guess they were both afraid of destroying it. Preservation is not progressive. It is preserving.

The mystery of this love, of this energy that was born one afternoon in 2001, march, Russia on a scaffold during a provincial town sunset never ceases.

Because they never had the chance to destroy or transform it.

So it transformed by itself but remained intact in itself. It was a moment they concquered from eternity for the price of never ever being able to retrieve it...



God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change
Courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


of course I sometimes think that maybe we aren't supposed to meet again either.
there is still one day to live through to make this weekend complete. the weekend you were going to see me. you said I can bet on you wanting to see me again. Ewwww. I don'T bet about such things dear. I don't. It doesn'T mean any good. And indeed, it actually left a very bad feeling inside of me....but you have all the necessary facts. you know that I can be strong and help you not to cheat on your girlfriend (which you anyways did do already in a way! but i am not going to judge you on that). you know as well that I can'T take it if you don'T, at least, notify me if you change your mind or realize that you can't do that. Seeing me again. IT wouldn'T be that bad, if I hadn'T been treated like this before by someone I refer to as Mr. Asshole usually. You are NOT like him, I know that. You might have different reasons and I respect and appreciate them. I wish you have different ones. But I defended him back then, too. And I was always loyal. From day one. Tomorrow will be hard. It s so good that I work all day. It s so hurting to bury you and my hope before I even have the right or reason to do so. But I see me doing it, and I feel so sick doing it because I realize it is such an adult thing to do. A child would keep on hoping. And out of fear to being hurt too much I dig a hole already now and accomodate to the feared hypthetical facts.

However.... - I feel that this love can be transcending, too.

I should have hatred for you
But I do not have any
And I have always loved you
Oh you have taught me plenty
The whole time I'd never seen
All you had spread before me
The whole time I'd never seen
All I'd need was inside me

I ve seen it there.Today. It s there. Inside of me. And my love can be free.

Now I feel so different
I feel so different
I feel so different
I feel so different
I feel so different

oh life *sigh* don't cha think it s enough now????/PMS FOOD

bambambam BAM! incidents follow incidents. piranha is bombarded by weird happenings and gifts of life she never asked for. Here is the follow up of today:

• Haig. A guy between 40 and 50. Approaches me in the subway at a kiosk. 'Can I ask you something?' he seems slightly embarrassed and nervous. Me: 'sure!' of course I smile my piranha smile as usual. He: 'I don't know it must sound so stupid, but I somehow think you are really cool, you look so interesting and I like you for some reason.....' (does that sound familiar?) I know, I know...the normal reaction would be to raise an eyebrow and turn brusquely away, but nah, that ain't piranha style! I am too curious as to what life came up with this time as a joke or gift for me...so, me: 'well, hehe, thank you....whateva!' he:'your face is really fascinating. I bought this newspaper in the kiosk only because of you because I wasn't sure whether I would dare to talk to you...I followed you all the way here from upstairs....there is something in your face...ehe...' me, totally puzzled: 'ehehehe, you mean MY 'CHARACTER FACE' that is...hahahaha. you mean you think my face.....lol' he: 'yes, i somehow really like women with (now get this!!!) chin...there is something so expressive about it/you...'
  
  my chin....oh my god. actually, when I think hard, there hasn't been a single person I had a crush on so far who didn'T make some witty remarks about my face. the expressions range from: moon calf, smiley, to 'whenever I think of you I think of three circles which are your cheeks and (nope., not my nose!) your chin!. wah.
  
  anyways. this guy turned out to be photographer and he said that maybe we could take some photos or so. (yeah, sure, I guess you d like to do nude photos with me) He said that for some reason he really wanted to talk to me, maybe because usually the models always run after him and kind of get on his nerves and now he, as a compensation, wanted to make a move to someone he thought would be a nice model or whateva...
  Me: 'you don't have to apologize or explain for having talked to me. I think thats really courageous. It s good shot adrenalin, isn't it.' He understood and we agreed on meeting somewhen else. Ha, nobody can tell me I am NOT spontaneous!
  We exchanged contacts (yet another exception but I had a good feeling here. Of course it is possible that this guy is a whacky psycho who rapes innocent girls which he lures to his photostudio and later cuts them in pieces and stores them in his refridgerator, but I am not going to meet him somewhere lonely... and hey, this guy is middleaged white and looks like he doesn't need to do this crazy sort of thing and I really think he should be rewarded for it. Hey, I mean by reward that he gets the chance to talk to me! okay! stop thinking nasty stuff now. jesus!!! gee!!!!! But it is definetly something else than the average African like Mike (sorry Mike, you were special in your own way, but I have to admit that there was something very stereotypical in your behavior....) who takes every of my smiles as an invitation to follow me and marry me. I understand that not many people seem to smile and that it must be confusing but in the same time I refuse stopping to smile at people just because I am in a big city now. And yes, I DO give African guys a chance as well, if my feeling is allright with it. So please don'T think the decision is based on generalized prejudices.)

• Immanuel: He was from Ghana. I smiled at him in the subway. He followed me ALL the way down the street. I was looking for my bike which I had locked somewhere in this area days ago when I was too drunk and the bike got a flat tire and what not. I didn't remember where the fuck I put it. I entered a turkish supermarket to buy some cherries when I noticed him behind me. Silently he stood there, doing nothing, but waiting for something. (For me saying something???). I didn'T do anything. Just went to pay the cherries. Again he, silently behind me. Uhhhh. A soft and quiet voice asks me 'do you speak english?' Me: (acting as if surprised) 'Oh, sure!' he 'i saw you and I have interest with you' (ewwww. hmrmblfmblgrkmlstdemflefbml) He was apparently actually shy and so this accounted for him and I decided to rescue the situation by acting extremely open and laid back. We chatted a bit and of course the next best thing is he asks me for my number.
  
  See, David didn't ask me for my number until the very end. He could have asked for it when I first wanted to leave the club and we had only exchanged a few words. But he didn't (scary thought: if he hadn't been in his 'patchy' relationship, would he have been the same???) and he didn'T comply to any of the stereotypes known to me and I guess thats partially how he got me. He was just being very different, very cool and very unique.
  
  I told him that I don't do that. I can take his number but I won'T call. I am being honest, I don'T wanna raise false hopes. He still wants to give me his number. Okay *sigh* *piranha shakes her head in disbelief*. It turns out he is here since 7 years. SEVEN years, and you don'T speak German? hm. hrmblgflmflbflf. I explain him I also cannot take his number because my boyfriend (from Zimbabwe of course, aaargh, piranha you fucking fake head of a dreaming romantic) is very jealous. ha ha. good joke. *sobs*. Anyways. He is sad but I have to go. I am sorry but I am not going to play the social worker here. I am interested in interesting folks and I give a fuck about the colour of your skin. Sorry for that. BUt i know you just want to fuck me. I know it. okay, maybe you want to love me. Just as I am desperately looking for someone I can love as I thought I could love HIM. But I am not going to let you love me. I am egoistic in this point. I want to love too and I know I won'T be able to fall in love with you. You are SIMPLY NOT MY TYPE. oh, yeah, even though I smiled at you, even though you are black.
  

Something else: I feel I am entering my PMS week. Great. Now I won'T know what I really feel if I meet you. Anybody interested in how piranha's PMS like food plan looks like?

1. 1 AM: some turkish sweets, TWIX
2. noon of next day: a breakfast in a Cafe. Not that I could afford it, but there is nothing I care less about right now! A cigarette (although I don'T smoke no more!)
3. 6 PM: two chocolate bars. Two handful cherries. A piece of Pizza. Icecream.

Yeah. But I am not pregnant. It s just PMS.

Piranha likes to eat guys up when she has her PMS. Especially one certain gorgeous one.

Telephone Thing

Telephone Thing

freak freak

I just realized that I am a freak freak.

What is a freak freak?

• Someone who is not specialized in anything. Usually freaks are people who are freak in something special. A freak freak is specialized in being a freak which is an oxymoron, because it is as bad as being an egg without any contents inside. you get what I mean.
• Someone who nevertheless sticks out of the mass for some reason. But people can't exactly put the finger on what makes you a freak. They try to put you in boxes and label you and explain why you are sticking out of the mass and what it is and balbalbalba, but they find themselves at a loss doing so.
• Someone who is pissed of not being a freak in a certain area of his/her many interests but nevertheless never manages to become a freak in that area. Matter of fact, you cannot be a specialzed freak in all of the following: Dancing (well, dancing, yeah, but not in all of the different possible directions: tango, salsa, modern, jazz, expressive, afro, contact impro,...), Sports (oh yes you can be a freak of sports but not of all those good things: basketball, running, rock climbing, martial arts (capoeira, taek won do, kung fu, tai chi, ken do...), swimming, acrobatics, hiking, inlineskating, biking, street climbing, ...), Music (Oh yes, you can be a freak of music but not of all the wonderful instruments: singing, guitar, flute, piano, accordeon, drums,... bands, solo projects, djaying...), Art (oy yes you can be a freak here too! but not a freak in all of this: graffiti, painting, installation art, performance, happenings, theater, sculpturing, sewing, design, writing, directing, filming, etc), Sciences (yeah again: biology, maths, economics, blablabla, sociology, ethnology, international relations and so on), Social Issues/Politics/being an activist (that is, keeping yourself update in all the DETAILS ALWAYS on any of those issues, discussing, writing, getting into action, planning, doing projects, living your life for that...), envionmental issues (being active, making a REAL difference, committing your life to a certain task in this field, living your life totally according to your principles derived by your increased awareness of environmental issues that is...) law (ewwwww. I want to become a lawyer! But everybody I know who wants to become a lawyer too, is already now a FREAK! They know so much about law, have done internships in lawoffices, are complete NERDS and ready to do all the hard studying!!! The only person I know who is as much an artist and complete chaot as I am is Jane from Belorussia and she also wants to become a lawyer only because she wants to work for Amnesty International and save the world. haha)
  
  
  okay, I spare you the rest of the list. it goes on and on and all that I listed lies actually in my interest and I wish I was a freak in any of them but I am not. I had 'freaky' periods in my life in which I endulged in one of the abovementioned things, for example I had a rock climbing, a dancing and a basketball period (and all the other things too at some point) but unfortunately I never became a freak in any of them and thats why I am a jack of many but master of none

It sucks big time in a way but today I thought, hey, whateva! That means I am a freak freak! A human human person. I get things done by means of contact with people. I am a freak freak , an oxymoron and instead of any contents I am filled with my love and joy for life. (those, like coins, have a back side and therefore capable of transforming themselves into melancholy, sadness, and anger. but whateva.)

piranha.

freak freak that is.

first of all: everything happens differently. secondly: from what you thought it'd be like(=a bad translation of a German proverb)

oh there are so many things on my mind and so i had to go and post another post today.

it s just so fucking amazing, as i indicated in the post below, how life has its funny ways of giving you things you didn't ask for but lets you wait with things you are longing for in the most rediculous and pathetic and desperate way.

I want love. But in combination with David. Necessarily. Very badly. But life puts me to the test:

Life gives me:

• last nights awesome happenings
• a good job
• a place to live at for free including internet flat rate and free fix net phoning.
• Anuschka (she finally made it and visited me the last four days and it was so incredible beautiful. we had so many beautiful moments. we kissed a lot. we waited so long for this moment in which we would let all the walls crumble down and let ourselves go with the flow of magic cosma-sista energy which has always been there and which always instilled the hunger to kiss each other without us ever talking about it....) (but of course I asked for being able to kiss David...you see the irony do you)
• Ulrike (I just met her at public transpo. I walked in and saw her and we smiled at each other and both she and I knew that we were the same kind. it s funny how you can tell. I asked her what was in her drawing folder and we started talking about art and life and changing study subjects and our future plans without even knowing each other. I told her about the hospitalityclub because she just looked like she would love it. she asked me for my email address. i told her she could paint with me at my former college as they pay for material and i figured that a girl who wants to apply at art schools doesn t necessarily have lots of money to pay for material. and it d be fun to have someone paint with me. she told me that she lived in one of the coolest streets of berlin and that I also could live at her place if i needed to, cuz her flat mate was just leaving for two months to Brazil.)
  the cool thing about this encounter is that i missed a tram on purpose to write something into my notebook for a blogentry. and thats why i met her. i was at the right time at the right place and i smiled at the right person...zou know, i just need a place to stay at for august. and she just offered me a place. isn't that AMAZING!!!!!! oh, my, ... - life......
• the weather. the weather has been very bad since i met David. walking through the windy wet cold unfriendly rain today with my umbrella almost tearing me into the sky i suddenly figured that this is exactly what i need to understand how I have to behave inside of myself...
  This weather is a perfect imagery for my misery I went through with all the heart wrenching pain that such intense and scary feelings bring along.
  And the way I walk through the rain, the way I pull myself together and proudly raise my head because I promised myself I would never bend my head in the rain but lovingly receive every drop as a stroking hand from mother earth (yeah, that sounds probably sort of strange but yeah, I don't fake. I am strange...), the way I gather my strength and keep straight inside, let my light shine through....is exactly the way my heart should behave in the miserable weather of emotions it was going through recently. This thought kind of caught me by surprise because I tend to indulge into my heartwrenching emotions a little bit too much I guess. I guess I love drama for some reason. Tragic makes me feel real. Like there is a reason for my suffering. Whereas the reason might just be that I am a whiny little something that doesn't want to see that it is way stronger than it would ever admit. You see. I can be proud and strong. No doubt.

Furthermore I realized that all the submissive energy I felt that came along with me falling head over heels in love with David is really part of the tenderness that I want to live and experience. But everything at the right time. Right? Now I feel how much pride is inside of me, how this queen that David touched upon in my soul awakens again and says: I am worth it! And if you don't fight for it, - well, it. is. your. loss. I CAN WAIT. or do whatever I want to do but with pride and comportance (is this a word??) ;-) The submissive energy I can afford to live and let free as soon as this knight has won this battle for me.
I mean by submissive energy the very amazing and puzzling fact that the night I got to know David I seemed to throw all my former convictions and beliefs away. Piranha is the one who always goes nuts when one of her female friends decides to move to a town or chooses a certain subject of studies just because she wants to be near her boyfriend. I am the one who usually strongly fights for the idea that everybody should FIRST develop themselves before they indulge into a twosome life. Because this is what enriches a relationship in the end. I don't cook. I am heading to do my studies, live my life my way and make a difference. Nothing can stop me from that. Nothing. haha. except for this feeling that stabbed me from behind this very night I met David and looked at his smile and in his eyes and his face and his moves and suddenly understood that for him I would learn how to cook, move to Zimbabwe or whereever he would like to go, change my life completely just for the life of the both of us. And this is probably that someone would label a very 'female' energy if one would judge by history and stereotypes. It is damn interesting to see what it really means for me to be a woman. It contains both, the holy and the whore, the submissive energy and the pride of the princess/queen inside myself....

wheeeeeewooow. it s so amazing. so amazing.

...ahm, life, is there a reward for being as grateful as I am for the many gifts you present me with? (just a question!!! )

i can t believe i have a blog

because i fuckin suck when it comes down to dealing with PC's not to speak of MAC's. Well, at least I know the difference between the both. And I know what LINUX is. Great. BUt it s now the fucking second time that I try to blogroll you guys and ladies who I love so much and it obviously didn't work. Am I too impatient or what the fuck is wrong with me.......aaargh.

yo life you know that i love you

yo life, you know that i love you.

life has a funny way of giving you things you never asked for and withholding things you are desperately begging for. And it has a funny way of making me cry and laugh in the same fucking hour...especially at nights in public transpo in Berlin it is at its best. life, at its best...

D. didn't call today although he said around midweek (well, and isn t wednesday exactly the damn middle of the week?) he would call, and if not certainly at the weekend. Great. There is nothing I long for more desperately than hearing your voice but I guess it s good you don t know it.

but Mike, a guy from Guinea talked to me in Berlin's subway. He said I attracted him already from far away because I look like a really interesting person. Well, hanging like a sack of potatoes over my guitar must look really interesting, indeed, yeah, my aura must have been overwhelming. But as I am I plunged into the conversation he was looking for and we did the balblablabbing that people do when they just get to know each other. Being an African dude though (yah, clichees! but it is true that often there are stereotypes people actually bring across. for example it is very common that guys from Africa have a very similar way of how to chatting s.o. up. it s so funny that it is actually worth an entire post to write about it. I had very funny flirts because they were so predictable. but then again, the way white european guys flirt can also be stereotyped and at least the African way is funny) it didn't take him long to explain me how special I am and how much he d love to see me again to continue this interesting conversation. I actually missed my station because of him and had to wait another 15 min. which he used to the fullest extend. As I don t give numbers or take numbers after having met a person the first time (my rule is to exchange contacts if we have run into each other three times coincidentally. but of course with David I had to make an exception...but you see what good comes out of breaking my rules. no good that is!) he had a hard time convincing me that I should take his number nevertheless. He actually asked me whether I am spontanteous and I said yes, because dammit, I am one of the most spontaneous creatures on this motherfucking planet, but I could tell where this would lead to.

Yeah, right, he asked me whether I would spontaneously go for a drink with him. Nope, darling, at was the wrong line. Go home and learn your text before we continue talking dammit!

He said, anybody could talk to me but not everybody would fight for me as he did. Thats why I should take his number. When I explained him how much I am right now in love with D. he said literally that I really should take his number because it is always good to have a spare tire around. I should believe him because he has seen a lot in his life. Yo.

Jesus Christ....okay, I took his number, said good bye and sadly sat down in the next subway. I almost started crying as I thought of you and how you smile and how you talk and how you are. And how it is impossible to be happy with you. Because at least in the near future there won t be a 100 % David package available. Love hurts.

But life wouldn't let me linger in this mood for long. Soon some crazy dudes hopped in the waggon and asked me whether I would play something for them after they gave me two chinese food sticks to bring me luck. I said yes and they went around and gathered money and we had lots of fun acting as if we were one of those dudes who beg for money in subways. not that this would be a funny issue in itself but at times it is good to laugh about something we all encounter every day and are actually annoyed by. Soon we had the whole waggon laugh their ass off and it was so great to see how those tired anonymous citizens suddenly saw the person and human being behind each other, behind the masks.... It was crazy crazy and I guess I am one of those whacky characters that Brother Obi loves to see in the public transpo. Smiling I went home and on the way I met this bum I got to know the other day and he asked me whether I had a few cents and I gave him all the money we got in the subway by playing around and thats how the circle closes and now i go to bed.

tomboys growing up

several weeks or months ago I had an English guy from London over (I offered free accomodation via www.couchsurfing.com) with whom I went clubbing at the weekend.

Somewhen sunday morning, around 8 or 9 AM we finally decided to come home after having spent a hot night in one of the coolest clubs ever in Berlin. Really, this club makes you feel like you've spent a night in hell. And thats certainly the place you wanna be, believe me. When you exit, having managed to climb up the many many stairs which lead back to the outside you feel like you enter a new world, still feeling the echo of the bass in your stummick and some bling bling in your head...suddenly plunging into the world of sweet bird singing and fresh sunny morning air. The effect is only achieved, however, when you stay until the sun actually rises.

As we got off the subway I jumped over the fence because i didn't feel like walking all the way around it to get to our street. He looked at me with a grin and said, 'you've also been tomboyish haven't you'

I looked at him, not knowing whether or not this was something good now but I decided to take it as a compliment. Gosh, only because I wear a skirt and dress sexy it doesn't mean i have to behave like one of those chicks, right? I love sports and I generally don't care about norms although at times its quite useful to at least know about them and be able to adjust to them if necessary...but....whats the whole fucking big issue about jumping over a fence at 9 AM sunday morning???

This lead me to reminisce a little about my growing up. Abot tomboys growing up and how difficult it is for us.

When I was 11 the most horrible thing I could think of was to get my period earlier than my older sister. I wanted to be like her. This included as well (see how fucked up!) having a boyfriend not earlier than with 14. (I didn't have a boyfriend until I was 17 actually and one could say I beat her on that lol. Now whether thats a good thing I don't know...) She was a true tomboy and I did everything to comply to that image too but I think I ve always been a little bit more feminine in some way than she was. She had the fitting body for a tomboy, I was always bigger than her and yes, my body kind of showed already back then that one day I'd become a woman with very female curves. You can figure how this pissed me off from the very beginning. My sister tortured me over months with telling me every night in a whispering tone so nobody but me would hear it: you sagging bosom pig! (there is an actual species called pendulous abdomen pig and that was her variation invented for me) Now, of course, that was bullshit, - I was a little girl just about to enter my teenies, my breasts just started growing but I can tell you that it was horrifying and although I forgave her for that and just laugh about it now I must say that it did more harm to me than any of us would have expected.

- I refused taking showers over a period of 6 months or so. I would just wash myself in the evening but never really undress. I couldn't bear seeing myself. Seeing the growing pubic hair, my breasts... it was just horrifying for me. I could not relate at all to these female features of mine. For some weird reason, although I really developed physically faster than she did, I got my first period really later than her. It was as if the immense fear I had stopped my body from developing this part. At some point my period wouldn't come for months and this was the first time in my life i realized I enjoy being a woman and that I really missed that. Strange, huh?!

It s very tough for a tomboy who is totally into sports to realize that there are days that you cannot give all you have powerwise, that it is uncomfortable running when you don t wear a bra and all that stuff. it basically sucks. other girls where busily taking care of their womanhood, buying clothes, using make up and all that stuff but I refused doing that. I never spent money on clothing. My mom had to drag me to stores. I would start crying and tell her how we should rather should spend money on helping poor kids in Africa. It was all too much for me.

I think it is normal for many many girls to have problems with how they look like and especially their weight when they are in their teenies and for some unfortunate creatures this is even a lifelong issue, but I think the tomboy issue added some problems to the "usual" problems girls have. -

- After I had kind of accepted, that I am a woman and can't change that and actually like it, my former problems transformed into the above mentioned problems, i thought I am way too fat, especially compared to my sisters, and that I looked horrible. I HATED myself. I would treat myself very badly and would tell myself very nasty things which hurt so much inside that I sometimes almost started crying. I wasn't very nice to myself nor to the people around me. I would play tough in public, my classmates really thought I am the strong, extrovertive, dominant, leadertype, optimistic Piranha, who doesnt give a fuck about clothing or any of this stupid chica chica businesses, - but at home I would get breakdowns on a regular basis, crying in my room and when my angel sister would come to console me or ask whats up I would yell and scream at her how the fuck she should immediately get out of my room. (of course in this moment there was nothing that I wished for more than her taking me into her arms and hugging me but you probably know that predicament....)

It was a difficult time.

Of course I started caring about clothing at some point and use make up and try to be sexy but I hated myself too much to really feel comfortable. I remember one day, I just came back from the hairdressers who had ruined my hair and I was standing in front of our bathroom mirror and cry. My dad came and asked whats wrong. I told him how much I hated the new haircut and what he then said was really puzzling in that moment for me: He said: Come on, Piranha, you, too, may dare to be sexy!

My dad....said this....the same dad who would forbid my sister to dress too sexy because it was slutty in his eyes.

I remember how after a long disease I had I lost so much weight that for the first time in my life I could dress in my sisters clothes and felt so good as I never did before. For some reason this feeling stayed although my body added a lot of weight after this desease, the famous jojo-effect. I think I am 10 kilos overweight now, I mean 10 kilos more than I had back then but I still feel good in my body. At times I wish I could get rid of them but it s difficult for me to do so. I just like eating too much... As long as I can run 10 miles after having danced through a whole night I think I am okay with it.

When I look back at this whole development I understand that my difficulties to accept what I referred in this blog many times as the 'woman inside of me' has also to do with the little tomboy inside of me. After having accepted being a woman and having this type of body I have, I had to come a long way until I could reconciliate myself with the sexual 'woman inside of me'. It was a long process but by the help of some gorgeous men I think I get there....Oh and of course also by the help of some gorgeous women :-)

I don t think that it was bad or a pitty that my development was so difficult due to me being a tomboy. I think it helped me to develop a personality which of course sometimes conflicts with the female side of me but I am very happy that my life isn t only defined by with which guys i have sex with or which clothes i wear and how i look like. My insecurities are there, sure, but I am happy about the little tomboy inside of me!!!!!

the clouds blushed and i think it was my fault

it was different today
unlike the last time when I felt that way.
back then the way I felt was very lyrical, very smooth, very romantic and very very blurred in a way, I almost felt like leaking out into the atmosphere with my whole soul.... like a lotus flower opening up to the first sunrays....

but today it was different.
I drove my bike and looked euphorically into the narrow skylane that the framing houses formed in the soft evening air. small little clouds blushed in pink colours and I smiled at the thought because I really believed that they exactly knew what I was imagining right in that moment and that their blushing was reallly my fault...

my thoughts danced around the warm frenzy that your voice had left in my veins. circeling around you like a junkies thoughts would circle around his drug. baring in mind the finity of the emotion, but flirting with the idea that like the tide the waves would come and go and come. and come again. so the go would be bareable, would be tolerable, would be affordable if we only could buy that idea for good, transform it into a certainty to which we could cling to like a drowning person to a floating tree or firm rock in the water before the great falls....

I went through all we said, repeated it word for word, with a cheering in my heart and a rapturous expression in my face...ahhhh so good. so so good.

Making love to you, I know that is what makes it so sweet and delicious and juicy and painful to think of you. The very thought that adding 'of course it is not all about sex' when talking about deep feelings to express that it is much more than 'JUST' that, appears rediculous when referred to you darling. Of course it is not all about sex, sure not, but it is about the damn quality of it, dear whoever you are! I don't think that our imagination suffices to paint the same painting as reality maybe will one day, but it is by no means a matter of course that imagination can be that explicit and that fierce when thinking of someone.

You are not someone and after having heard your voice my imagination went astray. On my bike I started daydreaming, I stared at the floating riversky above me, felt the wind blowing right through me, cleaning my soul... And all of the sudden I felt an almost ineffable twitching and orgiastic flush permeating my body, almost driving me insane, sending armies of goose bumps to every spot of my body, no matter how remote, -

and it was because I thought of you. of making love to you.

it is that bad.

the clouds blushed and the car next to me honked angrily at me. the driver obviously cursed the hell out of me, winding the window down and yelling: do you have bats in the belfry?

xtasy and black males

recently someone told me: just never have sex when you are on xtasy (I don't plan to ever taking any chemical drugs but well, you never know right)

why?

simply because everything that comes after that is nothing. you don't wanna spoil your entire sexlife for years, right?

huh.

when I told my friend Mira about this she was like: oh, what, really, is it THAT good, oh I wanna try it, I have to, it must be insanly crazy good then! (she couldn't stop saying that)

Me: BUT, Mira, I just told you that this is exactly the reason why you shouldn't do that! Come on, you don't wanna spoil your entire sexlife for years, don't you. This one time won't be worth the consequences, right...

I didn't really have the feeling that she was covinced nor did I feel I sounded at least somewhat convincing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Mom: 'Piranha, before you decide to go all the way down with him you really should think twice whether he is the right one or not (that sounds perfectly normal, like any Mom could sound like, right?But wait until the end of this post to see where she s getting at!!!...)'

Me: 'Hum..'

Mom: '...you know, it coins you. certain experiences coin you for a lifetime. you really have to be cautious here. think twice, always'

Me: 'Hum....its a constant battle between the heart and head mom....you know.......'

Mom: 'So I talk to the heart AND head now, listen, if you decide to go all the way down with him it might be really harmful to you.'

Me: 'MOM! Come on, experiences are there to be made, even if it'd be a mistake I still could learn from it, could I!'

Mom: 'But...you know, they say black guys are amazing in bed.(YEAH! clicheeeees!!!!!yeheya!!!!) But you have to remember that if you want something stable that won'T be enough, right? But if he is (and now, Ladies, and Gentlemen, please listen to the stunning logic of my Mom!!!:) really that good the guys who come after him might not have a chance with you then because you are coined by him and you will think then that they are not enough. But if the right guy for you falls under that category you might regret it for ever!'

Me: '- ..... -'


I think I don't have to ask you guys and girls whatcha think what Piranha would go for, right, you could certainly tell like that, could you!!! :))

:-P

:-P

:-P

HP (horny piranha)


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

telephon call

amazing how a call can change the whole day and the way you will feel the next days.

i just called and his voice so warm and deep felt like a wintercoat offered to me in a very cold night. there was just perfect understanding and words felt like mere transmitters of energy, the wind who carries the sweet sound of a violin playing somewhere way down at the shore of the river, behind some trees.

i don't know, there was still something missing i don't know what it is. i guess it is your smile. the lighteness. the easy gentle touch of a summerwind.

we are in winter now. thank you for your voice. it makes me warm inside. i know i wasn't wrong when i said you are not an asshole. i know i was right when i knew that you were going to treat me with respect. it s just that i have to read the signs in a way which is not totally occupied by my own points of views and interpretations.

i just called and his voice so warm and deep made me jump around and scream and make lots of crazy people noises ;-)

i can't stop smiling now. i feel like a junkie who knows that the feeling will only last until the next cold turkey which he will not endure and then come back to his drug. i know, i know, i know.

aren't we strange. i bet we are actually from the mars.

the cigarette leaves a scratching feeling, it tasted so bad.
slowly i crush the cigarette in the ashetray and pour some wine to kill the scratching feeling. the wine tastes sweet, almost as sweet like grapes. they always had good wine here. it gently pulls a veil of floating swiftness over you, there you hang in the balance, there you are in limbo.

there is fog in the backyard and swathes of thoughts waft through the old apple trees.

it is as if life swirls my soul around like the wind plays with harvest leaves, falling down, but slowly, slowly, hesitating, unsettled and precarious as where to let them fall down. they will fall softly, softly, and they will hardly know that they finally touched ground. but i know how it will feel like. they will exit the world of movement, of life, they will be pinned to the ground by rain, tightened to the wet, dark earth by the very force of gravity. there will be no movement, stillness, quietness, thats when everything else ceases to be and you feel your own weight and it s death, death, no breathing, no floating, no hurting, only deep deep heaviness, undecipherableness. there won't be any measures anymore to measure pain, happiness, feelings, thoughts, everything will be pinned down to one point and perspectives will vanish into the thin grey november evenings

once i heard somebody say that the only force that powers down gravity is love.

love.

love.

inhale
exhale

inhale
exhale

inhale
exhale

inhale
exhale

inhale
exhale


inhale
exhale

inhale
exhale

inhale
exhale

inhale
exhale

inhale
exhale

I leave some wine in the glass. Just in case.

devine justice

what is devine justice?
if you believe in the most high you will probably consent with the idea that we are NOT devine in the sense of being complete but we need to grow thus we aren't whole yet. in a whollistic sense of course.
so devine justice is to give everybody his or her fair share but not too much and not too little, but of course we are not the ones to judge what is too much or too little, we just must assume that it is that way. if you think you have too little, hell, go and discover yourself, dare! probably you have to learn and find the key how to open the doors god gave you. simple huh???

i can tell you from my own person that it is quite scary if the contrary is the case. i can'T really say it is scarier, because I don't know how it feels like to be a looser. I am a winner. almost. but it is a damn burden to be a super talented ass as I am often portrayed to be...

and thats why there is devine justice:

• the most intelligent (judging from the very suspect measures of school scores and overall success) child of the family is also the ugliest one (me)
• luck in love, badluck in gambling says a german proverb. oh, fuck gambling! i want love! but as a matter of fact, the one who has had so much luck in gambling, i.e. finding scholarshpis, sponsors, having success in finding jobs and so on is the one who had bad luck in love related issues. (no, J. was fine, the problem was I couldn't love him the way I wanted to/should have to! It fuckin hurts but you can'T choose with whom you really fall in love! and yes, I think I can say I was really in love with Pedro, and yes, he is a drugaddict and schizophrenic now. oh and yes, Marcial was married. fuck. and L.A. was too old, admittedly and not interested in a realtionsihp either. oh. and Mr. Amazing D. is in a 'patchy' relationship! but the fact that I have so much luck right now with finding appartments for free, getting a job immediately at Starbucks and being offered a post as an interim secretary and the prospect of being Qorianka's personal assistant during the whole promotion time before 'the new world' gets into the theaters....makes me fucking afraid that this time, too, love will have to obey the abovementioned law/proverb. FUCK!) (uhm, no, Piranha, no fucking. no.)
• the one child in the family who did NOT have any major problems with her classmates and yes, was even quite popular and loved and who never has any problems in finding people she likes and whom like her immediately wherever she goes, and the one who always has these crazy coincidences happening, is also the one who has bad luck in love related issues. did I mention it already? oh. did I tell you that it sucks big time? oh you are dumb, ugly, have difficulties in finding friends and you have ALSO bad luck in love related issues? damn. there must be sth in your karma i say. or maybe, maybe i just should step back and be thankful for what i have and tell myself not to be so fuckin spoiled. i am just used to having luck. so thats a good lesson, yes it is. indeed. it must be this way. urgs. can you stop loving me, please, dear friends? maybe i get too much love by you. i want HIS love. thats childish i guess. demanding. fuck fuck fuck (no, Piranha, no fucking tonight. no!)

you see....

god is fair.

i am not breathtakingly beautiful, am too big, am too much all in all, i don'T dance like a goddess (although for being white thats okay (yeah clichees!!!) oh and yes, I would love to dance like a goddess. ) and I have bad luck in love related issues. but i am very bright, popular where ever I go and successful (well not really. the problem is i can't sell myself well enough. so i could be actually way more successful in terms of exhibiting paintings, selling them, doing crazy projects and get paid for them or at least get some recognition or giving concerts...i mean, i was offered to give a concert and i declined....how fucked up is that? fuck perfectionism.... i am mostly only successful in theoretical stuff. i failed my drivers license test for example, although I knew how to drive at that point already since three years. ain't that fucked up! and the theoretic part of the test - i studied for it like one night and had ZERO mistakes. fuck. see. fuck fuck fuck (no, piranha, no fucking tonight! shut up now!)


great deal, great deal god.

and now, can we switch roles please????
i mean, can't i swithc roles with someone please?

spend a day in Germany's bureaucracy. welcome to the insane world

do you know these situations when EVERYTHING somehow doesn't go the way it should and in the end you find yourself at the crossway of either starting to cry or starting to hysterically laugh at you, the situation and badluck's ugly sense of humor???

I chose the second way but until then I found myself quite often at the verge of crying. Welcome to the insane world of the pettyfoggery of Germany's bureaucracy... (Mr. Asshole's opinon on that is that the real reason why German's economy is down is exactly it's petty bureaucracy which slows everything down. and the missing sense of effective customer service behavior)

I need a social security number.
I get out at the underground station they told me to get off. There is no embassy around, not to speak o the street it is supposed to be at. The street, they tell me is in another district. At the other end of Berlin.

Great. To cross Berlin from one end to the other you need more than one hour by public transportation. My bike? Forget it. Hours. Hours.

At least, I think, I can go and get my provisional ID because my purse got stolen and I need an ID for my application for Starbucks. I have to have it until Thursday.

I go to the next county courthouse or whatever it is. They send me to the next building where I tell a woman what I need. She even doesn't really seem to listen but gives me a number, please wait. I go to the holding area. I boggle. There are MORE THAN 40 PEOPLE WAITING!!!
I chuckle, walk with a fat grin on my face to a free chair. Its hot. And it smells like there are many human beings. I feel like a sheep. LIke a SHEEP.

At some point another sheep walks in. Just like me she boggles and then she says very loudly and clearly: OH MY GOD, ARE YOU ALL HERE FOR THE BÜRGERAMT???
NOBODY answers. It s as if the people froze and don't dare to look at each other.
I almost fall off my chair because I have to laugh so hard. She just said what EVERYBODY thought. They can't bare that. hahaha. Of course everybody thought the same at home: Today is a HOT day. people are going to be at the beach. I am so clever. I ll go today to the Bürgeramt and will be treated like a king and get home quickly. hahaha. Too bad sheep have the same sort of brain. I wish I didn'T have one.

After two long hours of waiting it s finally my turn. I go to the indicated room. There is an individual sitting. I smile, try to add a nice moment to his long day, say friendly good morning. He stares at the computer. No eyecontact. Poof. So, well, you miss a smile. WHATEVER!
After I explain what happened he says in a very aggressive and mean tone: so why are you here then? (didn't you know that you are completely wrong here? i bet you came here only to annoy me. you mean little bitch!) I say well, they told me to come here. who? (i gonna kill this bitch of secretary!) I say, well sorry, I didn'T mean to bother you, you know, - you don'T bother me (get THE FUCK out of here!)
- without a word and with my most arrogant mask I rush out of the room, silently cursing in English, near to crying. Fuck you Mr. Clerk! Two hours of my day. Okay. It s interesting to get an idea what it feels like to be a sheep. It makes you wanna go to New Zealand.

So I go to the next department. After I have explained I don'T know how many times already today what happened and what I need the woman says: you have to go to the Bürgeramt. In a desperate attempt I explain again and say, listen, lady, I just come from THERE, they sent me here! I am not going to go there!
Perplexed she blinks at me. I say, listen, I am not registered here with my principal residence. maybe thats...Oh then you have to go to this and that department of course. - oh well, okay, I ll do that. it s half past two. I didn't have breakfast yet.

In this and that department they listen to what I have to say and explain me that it is not possible to do what I require. I say, listen, I just need an effing provisional ID! Is that so difficult damn. They say, well you have to do that in the town of your principal residence.

That is about 1500 miles away, but okay. I can't possibly do that until thursday. So at least, can I fill out that form that we have to fill out when our purse gets stolen? (there is a blank for everything in Germany...) I do that and feel very successful. I decide to get that bill of health I need in order to start working. They tell me the according department is over the square at the other side....

I leave and look for it. It s hot. HOT. And I am thirsty. Why the fuck don't they have waterspenders in a public building? The had no water left in the vending machine. I had to drink that disgusting sweet over sugared thing of Fanta. Bah! I don't find the building. I find a woman who is in a humane mood. She helps me in a very friendly way. I calm down. She tells me after searching the internet for at least 15 minutes (did I already mention that I am terribly impatient? this gonna cause me some stummick cancer one day!) that I have to go to the building I just CAME from.

What the eff??? WHY DIDN'T they know that the health department is in THEIR building???
Tired I shuffle back to THAT building. I ask the secretary where I have to go. She hisses at me: it s written on that table! Sorry, excuse me, I didn't want to bother. (What the fuck are secretaries for then? I have a fucking diploma as a manager's secretary. But okay, this is public. We shouldn''T expect anything here...)

Its on the fourth floor. I fill out everything that you need to fill out. So, that costs 14 Euros. What? My purse got stolen, fuck, and i have no money, and I have no way to get money from my account right now! Because, in order to et money personally from the bank I have to go BACK TO MY HOMETOWN. which is, as I said before 1500 miles away from here.
Hail German Bureaucracy!!!

So I leave. It s five pm. I stroll back to the square. I would like to eat icecream now. Lots of icecream. I look around. I see at least 10 booths were they sell sausages. German sausages. HOT SAUSAGES. Not a single icecream booth. I go to the grocery store. No ice cream. I go to the kiosk. NO icecream.

I start to laugh.

Hysterically.

Don't they know that you make lots of money in the summertime .... with.... ICE CREAM???

Mr. Asshole Vol. # 2 - a training night

good morning good morning!!!!

so guess what happened!!!!!!

I did it!!!!! I claim tha award for strong women. 1. Place.

okay. Mr. Asshole calls around 10 PM. I explain him that I am in a bad mood, pissed off, all that. Am just about to write another sad post for my blog... But I am genuinly happy to hear his voice and that he called... How are you. -
-Okay. I just came back from Milano. - I am in a bad mood too.
-Great! So lets celebrate it! It s always better to be in a bad mood together isn't it.
- Guess what, I just talked to Xtina (his best friend) she is in a bad mood too. She said that there is a White Snake concert soon. We should all go there and reunite...
-Yeah. (I had to pay this concert back in retrospect although it was originally a present of his... I know it s been 3 years and no, I am not mad or anything. I tend to forget the bad very quickly thats why I have to remind myself here of it....every now and then!)
-Do you know a good watering hole
-No. I only know P.berg, K.berg is a district I don't know very well. I just moved there

We agree to meet somewhere in K.berg in about 45 minutes. He says that he will wait 30 min and then leave. I believe him. Mr Asshole will do that. He s always been a fucking macho like that.

I am very happy. I can't believe that I am happy like that. I am fucked up. It must be like that.

Luckily I have some dresses with me because I just did my laundry. I am at my old college. My friend M. has to play the judge and advice me on what to wear. Fucked up. I look great though. Great. Lets go.

He calls. Can you give me another 15 min? - Sure, I ll be late too! - Yeah, hell, thats Berlin, people can be late here - Indeed. - i ll be there 100% (oh fuck, don't say that. whenever you said 100 % you didn't manage. It s like a bad spell)

It s me who waits. 20 min. I don't care really, I always have stuff with me to do. I have my full painting/drawing equipment with me. I don' t know it yet, but it will be of good, very good use later. And my juggling balls. I practice some tricks. People walk by. Some idiots act as if I were a prostitute. *sigh*. Wearing a mini skirt and without being in the company of a guy makes you a slut. Madre Maria....

Finally you arrive. In a taxi. With a beer bottle. Without enough change. I pay the last 5 euros for the taxi. We head to a bar. Heavy music, just as you like it.

Hell, how are you darling? - I am okay now. I was really pissed off. - So what happened - Ah you know....this guy.

I tell him the David-story. He laughs at me. Says that this is Berlin. I shouldn'T fall in love in Berlin. Hell, if you told him that if you guys meet but no touching,- of course he doesn't get back to you!

Just because YOU are an asshole it doesn'T mean that everybody else needs to be an asshole, right?

Ah.

He tells me about his miscellaneous affairs with big boobed actresses on coke at airports. He s got a girlfriend and a cute 7 month year old baby boy whom he loves more than anything else. I feel very sorry for his girlfriend but I don'T care about his sexual escapades. Thats Mr. Asshole and I am lucky that I never was one of his sexual escapades but someone he would like to call his 'friend'. I explained him several times that time will show whether or not he can say that we are friends but that pisses him off. He needs to have everything he wants to have and that immediately. I can relate to that. I am impatient, too.

you look great by the way. aaahhh, these fine legs. i can'T believe it. Piranha grew into a woman really. you are very sexy, you know that.

he touches my legs and strokes them. Ah! fuck. I didn'T shave. On purpose. To prevent myself from doing things I don'T want to. hahaha. here we go.
He talks about how he will lay the bartender tonight. So you are not the old Mr. Asshole no more? A grown up business man of 37 years? Is there really no playboy Mr. Asshole no more?
Yeah. Sure. Go tell it to the mountains!!!

The bartender or should I say tendress is kinda fat and ugly. I don't know what to think now. If he thinks that I am sexy and she too. Hm. I am mean. Sorry. Ah it s her cleavage. Okay, that explains everything. omg

I smoke. Usually I don'T but tonight it fits. I puff actually because I can'T inhale that smoke no more. I am being very tough. Obviously he tries to take me along on the way to getting drunk but I know where to stop. He pays. I laugh a lot and I enjoy his attempts to flirt with me. It s so good when your heart is suffering to have an ex boyfriend try to flirt with you. It s like chocolate for breakfast or something like that. A cool shower after a hot summer day.

-So what is wrong with you and Kathrin.
-She is too rich. She is from a very wealthy family in Italy. It was all too quickly. She got pregnant after two months. We had sex like only six times. But she is a great mom, and a beautiful person you know. Colin Farrell really likes her (did you hear that 'bling'? He dropped a name like a coin. It s all about who you know, you know. Man, I am so lucky to have famous relatives. It makes me all a better person you know. Yeah. Mr Asshole. I give a fuck about names and you know that. Oh, you do too? Sure. But go on....) I am not saying she is a bitch or anything. She is great, it just doesn'T work really between us. We are about to break up. We have too much money you know. It s fucked up in a way, it doesn'T make you happier you know.

I know. If you have too much money let me paint something for you and pay me more than the 100 Euros you said you were ready to pay. If you sniff coke you can pay me more than that. Fuck you Mr. Asshole- Don'T do coke. This explains why you are so incoherent at times in what you say. Your attitude. I don't like coke.

I don'T want to go home. I really don'T want to see her. or what do you think should i do.
Go home and fix that. Thats my opinion.
I rather think i go and take a hotel room. Maybe I call Manuela (that big boob coke actress from this german soap opera. oh man. it s such a big deal to fuck german soap opera actresses. great accomplishment)

He continues to flirt with me and I flirt back. We kind of enjoy playing with the fire. We are aware of the fact that our relationship has always been totally weird and odd. But we like it. I can handle his fuckedupness and recently I thought maybe I continue to keep in touch with him or people like him because it gives me a weird sense of success and greatness that I am able to handle characters and crazy situations that usually come along with them so well. Like some sort of weird affirmation of myself. I mean, it could be, couldn'T it! Oh, madre maria, Piranha. The true motivations behind your decisions, deeds, feelings, who will ever decipher them????

We come up with the idea to cuddle. If he is my big brother, as we claimed our relation to be as soon as I broke up with him, I can cuddle with him because I do that with my real brother too. I stroke his face. I still love you Bo. - He sighs. - Thank you for saying that. - I smile. -
I say that I am okay with the idea to get a hotelroom for both of us. It s a great challenge to say we just cuddle. I want to practicen for the day I meet David. I ve got to stick to what I say and not let anything happen. I don'T really want to be so strong but I guess it s all for the better.

Oh yes, lets take a hotelroom with a hot bath tub and champaign and stuff. and we just sit there naked and see how desire overwhelms us but don'T do anything about it.

hahahaha! sure! come on bo. hahahaha. your imagination is running wild. lets just cuddle

okay, but all nude okay.

i don'T know whether this will work, to be honest. I ll wear my underwear.

hm.

He orders a hotel room and we leave the gaybar we ended up in. I know I look sexy and I know I am cool. Without coke.

Don't play so tough Piranha. You are like your mom. She hates me.

Come on, Mr. Asshole, my mom doesn'T hate anybody. She is just very cool

She told me that you made a bet that I wouldn'T come to your exhibition.

Yes I know. I won.

She hates me. All your siblings hate me.

Come on, Bo, it s been three years now. They give a fuck. They trust me. I forgive things. I am loyal you know that.

Your mom is one strong beautiful woman! You are just like her. Thats the Alaskan side. She looks like a native.

She isn'T. Her parents are from Switzerland.

I know, but she looks like.

We take a taxi and as usual he jokes with the taxidriver although he doesn'T speak a word of English. Madre mia, Mr. Asshole, did you really change?? At the hotel the same. I have to explain evrything. Finally we are in that room. It feels so weird. I told him that I would advice him to go home but that I still would be up for the hotel. So thats why we are here. Weird.

Can I paint you? All nude?

Hm

He doesnt't believe me. But I, calm like the sea, unpack my painting equipment. He undresses, goes to bed. One beautiful body. (He was the first to whom I dedicated India.Arie's song 'Brown Skin...you know I love your brown skin...') I start painting. He is totally puzzled.

Come on, come to bed now too... It s not fair when you are all dressed and I am not.

No, you promised me I can paint you

I thought you were joking

No, I ll paint now. Shut up. I don't often have the opportunity to have such a beautiful male model undress for me. Just keep that position, aaahhhh, thats good.

I paint. My hands fly over the paper, the light is perfect, his skin so smooth. I love it. Just for the fairness of it I take my shirt off. I wear my beautiful Rome wondabra. :) He gasps.

What did I miss. Oh my god. Come here to me!

No, shut up! I ll paint you first. There is no way you can stop me from doing that

*sigh*. (then he smiles) you really know how to get the respect you need and deserve. you are one beautiful woman.

I followed your advice

I know. (that makes him proud, of course. haha. we woman always have to give the feeling that it s all your accomplishment. but it s always been like that. in reality we are the cause but we enjoy silently)

I paint and keep painting even in bed. He is a bit drunk and tired. Finally I start cuddling, after having put him in his place many times while I was painting. But this guy doesn'T know what it means to cuddle. As soon as it crosses the line to creating sexual energy, you have to withdraw and start all over again. Thats the game and it is a great game to play. But he is very bad at it. I have to teach him. I enjoy touching his skin but I have to watch out that he doesn't steal a kiss from me. No kissing. Oh, of course, you can kiss my skin but not on the mouth, claro!? Whether I can hug your little friend too? hahahaha. Oh my god, Mr. Asshole, thats not part of the game. Okay, yes, I can hold it. I ve seen you like that before. You were the first one who taught me how to give blowjobs or 'mouth hugs' how humanity critic says. But I am not going to do that now. Not anymore. But I can hold it, thats okay. You sigh. You have a very hard time. Poor you. hahaha. I am happy I didn't take my panties off as well. If you d check you d find me all wet. Of course. I mean, I have a physical body too. I am also just a woman. But I can keep control over it. I did that many many years. I am curious to see whether I still can do it. Or better, whether I can still NOT do it. although my body wants to.

The moment when you stroked and cuddled my back and my belly and my breasts was very sensual and very dangerous. The light was very warm and I knew you were at the verge of loosing your control. We were firefighters that night. Training night. When you fell asleep you snored. You didn't really change.

- In the morning, around 8 AM Kathrin called you. We got up quickly and took a taxi to get home. You were very glad I stopped you (or, as you said, that you stopped me from touching you too much hahahahaha) and that we didn'T go further. Of course not, Mr. ASshole, if Piranha says we are going to cuddle we are going to do that and nothing more. I told you before, that if you want to have hot wild porn sex you should call Manuela. If you want to be a good guy you should go home and fix the relationship with Kathrin. And if you want to cuddle stay with me.
You were really surprised that Kathrin worried about you. I told you she loves you. You love her too.You were on coke together? Well, and now she probably wants you to stop that. Woman.... I bet she is a strong woman....Try to get your act together. You have a kid. He means the world to you. You don'T want to lose him.

When you said good bye you said 'thanks for being such a good girl'

Oh, yeah. If you only knew....

But I am happy I was so strong. It s so cool. I ll get the award, I am sure. Show me the woman who can do that! :)) And no, I have no regrets or bad conscience or anything. I am not going to have affairs with guys who are in a realtionship but our relationship is so odd that it is okay to do things like that. And we are only 'friends' because I am like that. Because I don't care whether or not your name is Mr. Asshole.

cocktail a la piranha

• a little bit of clicking. energy which jumps from one smile to the other
• a spoon full of some good hiphop and funk, soul...
• one kg of yearning for children, security, family, destiny, arriving, THE man
• 7 gr. of extremely high dosed dancing powder to let the bodies move together; create sexual energy. of the black sort.
  
• african whatever background. cut in slices.
• 7 layers of secret ingredients. to be mixed under the dancing powder
• a grain of intelligence
• a grain of emotional quality
• 7 hormons working with each other

shake it all together, put it on ice et voila, el cocktail a la piranha!!!

serve it while. hehe. cold. i meant, hot. HOT!

p

i admit.....i did it again...but it s really the ...hum, the last one.

the point is, no matter what, i never wanted to be one of those proud bitches but of course i have my own pride but i am also willing to fight for it. for what i think is right. i have my own set of rules and do's and don'ts....so i gave in to my urging feeling to continue spamming this poor guy with my mails.
here is the last one. just because i shared the other ones too, i would like to wrap it up here:

david, i don'T wanna annoy you or hurry you or
whatever, but waiting six days for a response is the
longest i can take. i am very impatient, i know, but
as i already told you on the phone, i can handle stuff
quite well, as long as i know what it is.

maybe you don't know yourself now what is on your mind
but even this fact would be a good one to share with
me. in the case the silence means a good bye i wanted
to say with Leonhard Cohen's song 'hey, thats no way
to say good bye' that i d like to know about this
decision as well.

i hope you understand. we are turning into ghosts
currently. and thats damn scary. i d rather bury a
beloved person who died than running the risk to be
haunted by a ghost when i expect it the least....

Piranha (kind of relaxed today)

i know i want this too. by the way.

lotto. love is like lotto

i guess it must suck big time to visit my blog these days. i must appear as a helpless whiner who is surrendering to his feelings like as if he is subjected to his emotional life.

well i couldn't care less.

as a matter of fact blogging has become some strange sort of addiciton. wherever i am i kind of write texts in my head how i would describ the situation i am at. i know i know the posts aren't very good considering this constant effort, but i don't actually write everything down. it s just funny in itself. i mean this making texts process in my head... this 'addiction' like sort of thing is probably also just an issue right now, as typing in my thoughts and feelings here is some sort of substitute to whining in the real world. i do enough of that already. don't think the real people around me don't get their fair share either! :) blabla. i knew you would be interested in knowing that. it s such a precious little fact that i generously shared here in the blogosphere.

well you couldn't care less.

lotto? oh right, i was going to talk about love and lotto.

it crossed my mind all of the sudden:

what sucks so big big big huge fat time about my situation is that it feels not only like having had five matching numbers in the big lotto win but it s even worse. it s like having lost the bill with the six right numbers. the winner number. because: if I fell in love with a guy wo doesn't return the feelings. well, i d be probably heart broken and stuff, but god damn, i d knew whats the deal and could try to accomodate to the facts of the matter

. but like this, it is heart wrenching!!!! he wrote me that all he can say is that how i described what i felt, he felt the same. not simply the same, but he added 'EVERYTHING"

God dammit!!!!!

i hope it didn't escape your notice darling, but saying this you fuckin subscribe to a feeling that told me that you are the ONE. I am far from believing this myself, look, I know my heart is being childish and uneducated and opening up to feelings that it always been yearning for and which were stimulated for some fuckin yet undeciphered reason whilst it maybe was just an apperitive for the big thing yet to come! just to get the heart used to such big feelings, you know, a fuckin training day!
but this doesn't diminuish the fact that by saying the above you were telling ME that you felt the SAME! EVERYTHING!

man i can't believe it. i think rather than having children with me (which was one of the feelings you were just subscribing to by the way) you were feeling like MAKING children! excuse my upsettedness. i know this isn't really a word but i like it! so, excuse me, but I felt also like making children. i even started thinking about being satisfied at least with an affair. but know, i have my mantra, i repeat it and i won't do that. but thats not the point.

the point is, that you said you see that my standpoint (which standpoint? that i am not going to be damn sucker sidedish?) puts both our situations into perspective (yeah. the fool i am i told you i see that our situations are not very inviting to start something serious. you are 30, i am 22, i am going to LA in september, go my way, study, balblablabla. but DAMN! love doesn't give a fucking damn shit about things like that! oh FUCK!) - (moreover, my fuckin heart even doesn't give a shit as whether it makes sense or not to have these feelings for someone who is more of a ghost by now than a real person. it also gives a damn whether or not you deserve me (who the fuck defines being deserving anyways?) or whether you are an idiot. unfortuantely, i might add.)

and furthermore, that it is needless to say that the other half of you still wants to see me again. despite your efforts to see things as much as you can the way i see them. (like, i see them in a way that prevents us from seeing each other ever again? yeah. exactly.) and then...

you asked me : can i see you again?

just like at this morning. you were the one to ask for my number and you said you d like to see me again. and i replied you as i am immediately. i know i am impatient. too impatient probably. but thats the way i am. the ONE. oh damn. shit.......

and you did not response ever since. it s been four days or so. i understand if you need time but it kills me not to know the reason for the silence. i know i am too impatient but it kills me. i try to live my life as normally as possible but although it might seem (despite the whining every now and then) normal it isn't. i don't find the stop button. unfortuantely. fuck.

to make this all a bit longer i ll post here what i answered just for the sake of exhibition and soul striptease that i am getting an expert in now...

david. i suppose it s not the best idea. if you like torturing both of us. well. it would be sort of odd though because...because...because. i mean it would be simply odd because i guess we both don't know how to handle that sort of thing appropriately. but then again, human beings have to learn walking so we shouldn't be afraid of falling either. poof. but please. i am already disgusted by my own feelings. i have to learn so much yet david. i have to learn to hold feelings back and stuff. is more healthy you know. *sigh*. i don't know what you mean by seeing each other again. i know we both wanted to go down all the way. but i suppose we shouldn't. i wouldn't. as i said before, i am not going to interfere in anything thats unsolved yet realtionshiptermwise. it s not my style. i couldn't respect you either for that. although it would, of course, feel like some desperate dramatic love story. and the forbidden fruit is oh so tempting and exciting and adventurous and stuff. always. thats how we came here in the first place, according to the holy book ;-)

but maybe we should just relax a bit and meet anyways just to TALK and let feelings cool down in the face of daylight reality.... there are too many things i wanted to know about you anyways than not wanting to see you again. for example whether you actually speak shona or ndebele or both or none and how to say how do you do or i love you in these languages and where you grew up and how it was like and what you think about life and love and the universe. is that too much? i m just really interested. despite all feelings. really. but don't expect anything else. we should show each other that we can be strong.

i propose that we really meet just for a coffee or dinner or whatever and make it a real special encounter between two human beings (rather than just woman/man), so we both can take it home as a gift, a memory that you look back at later with a smile on your face. and no regrets. and no bad conscience. and maybe this way, we can give the reason we met a chance to show. who says it wasn't for the sake of a friendship rather than romance. as i said, feelings are so inscrutable. you never know why the heck they happen to be there.

piranha

oh you are still reading? well. here is the fuckin second mail i sent him the same night. i always send two mails for some reason. probably because i am too much always and too impatient. sure. too implies too impatient, too.

oh david. i just thought about what i wrote earlier and now, sitting here working at my computer i start having doubts about human nature. we are so greedy.and it is so easy to put things in beautiful words.and meanings. and masks. i don't know. we are too greedy often. we encounter one beautiful moment and think we have to recapture it. it reminds me of a poem i recently wrote, after a beautiful encounter with aspecial person. for some reason with him i felt that for sure we wouldn't meet again and there wasn't a need for it either. because our bodies hadn't been involved....just our minds. and I realized then, that although I would have loved to get to know him and embrace him and all that, he was just there, in his silence, offering in a hidden hand his understanding and empathy. that was all. and I suddenly understood that nothing had happened, that could ever be repeated again. it was all unique. i am afraid. i am afraid we will be running aftersomething that is not. beauty and pursuit of pleasure often don't go well together. david. i hope we won'tbe greedy. it makes us sick otherwise....


(by the way, this pathetic beauty and pursuit of pleasure contemplation and actually the whole mail is the fuckin fault of Krishnamurti, whose book "freedom from the known" i am reading right now and i partially blame also my flat mate who was telling me that it is egoistic to see David again. after this great considerate deep shit i wrote in my first mail. ) (and also, i have to admit that i guess it all boils down to making love in the end. i mean having SEX. it d be too sad of course. but i am afraid it does) (so why this fucked up deep talking piranha, anyways!!!!!aaaargh)

no ways, you are still reading? okay. you caught me. i AM being pathetic. it s reached now the point i have to face that. i think admitting it is a good point to start. maybe i will change in the course of the next 20 years. who knows.

good night.

piranha. pissed off