One thing I have realized pretty soon in my young life, is that I am a social maverick/loner. I love and need company and to entertain or listen to people but that doesn't change anything about me being a maverick.
I think I started wondering about that in class when i was about 11 or 12 years old. I remember standing in the doorway, observing the four 'hot chicas' of my class giggeling and chatting at the window. Standing there I realized that although I would love to be like them there was no way I couldn't. It's just not my thing.
Going together to downtown is another example. It's not that I didn't want to, but I couldn't STAND going shopping with lots of girls because they seem to assume automatically that once we are out together we have to stick together like glue. However, as decision making is so difficult with lots of girls you wound up discussing first for hours before something happens...
not with me!
I love:
-going to cinema, alone. No problem with that.
-going to a club/bar alone. I don't need you to hold my hand while dancing! in a bar it can happen that I feel lonely being alone, but generally i enjoy just sitting there, watching people and actuall i have to admit that i always find people to talk to and have fun with.....
-walk through streets, alone. I love that. It s sort of a self-finding process ;-), I sometimes just walk away from a bulk of my friends when I feel I am not doing what I want to do and just walk somewhere...and usually I find what i Need on the way...like the saxophon player under the bridge the other night, who happened to have a flute and we started jaming.....wow.....beauty everywhere
-hang out with a homeless and jam with him on his guitar rather than hanging out with a group of people/friends when they just want to get drunk and talk nonesense
the list could go on.
yesterday night (well the night that just has passed) I slept in my school in one of the practice labs. on the floor, with my scarf as a blanket and no, i do have friends close by I could have slept at but I didn't want to.....ahhh, what a good sleep I had. I found myself, however, calling desperately friends in Germany (successless, fuck timedifferences!)....the maverick needed some social contact.....of the sort i can't have here in fucking LA
Sean, by the way, is the same way. which makes him interesting in the first place, and difficult to grasp, in the second place.
god bless the queen. ahm, save?
Monday, October 31, 2005
Saturday, October 29, 2005
damn. a love letter.
i just have to share that. my brother in law just came in and gave me a folded paper and a business card and said 'i found this in the camper, from a lover or so'
the folded paper, a bit dirty, just looked like one of those papers in my pockets that wound up there for weeks and weeks until i finally throw them away. so i was really surprised to actually realize that this paper indeed was a love letter not from me and not from my pockets but placed there by a strangers hand....ths camper is always open so this guy must have come back and put it there for me.....wow.
damn. i am excited! i think i've never actually received a real handwritten love letter except for the little note that Pedro send me during class back in 1997 asking me whether i love him too. my answer was a two page letter explaining that i do love him but can't be with him, in a very desperate way and he never read the letter. so all i can say here is, how miserable that may sound, i really haven't received any real loveletter ever in my life but i have written tons of them. there is a little imbalance here, right?
so here is the beauitful that just adds to my profound confusion i am in these days:
Dear Piranha,
I hope that this finds you in good health and company...I know that I was not permitted by you to ever see you again, but since the night we spent together has passed I have not been able to get my mind off you...All I can really say is that being in a motorhouse never felt so comfortable...Every once in a while I can hear you tell me where to kiss you...God, you're beautiful...I must ask you to dinner...maybe we can get to know each other on different terms...
E.
it's not long, but sweet. He was one of the two guys i mentioned in my previous post....and he has, of course, a girlfriend, what a mess.
but that sounds like something...i didn't expect this at all because i was giving him shit when he left, saying that he better fix things with his girlfriend, i guess i had a bad conscience that i didn't stay true to my principles of not making out with anybody being in a relationship. argh. well, so here we go...he was really nice, in fact the only guy in the whole club who i actually liked...but how is that song from Anastacia? "CAN'T GET U OUT OF MY HEAD..." that counts for Sean....
the folded paper, a bit dirty, just looked like one of those papers in my pockets that wound up there for weeks and weeks until i finally throw them away. so i was really surprised to actually realize that this paper indeed was a love letter not from me and not from my pockets but placed there by a strangers hand....ths camper is always open so this guy must have come back and put it there for me.....wow.
damn. i am excited! i think i've never actually received a real handwritten love letter except for the little note that Pedro send me during class back in 1997 asking me whether i love him too. my answer was a two page letter explaining that i do love him but can't be with him, in a very desperate way and he never read the letter. so all i can say here is, how miserable that may sound, i really haven't received any real loveletter ever in my life but i have written tons of them. there is a little imbalance here, right?
so here is the beauitful that just adds to my profound confusion i am in these days:
Dear Piranha,
I hope that this finds you in good health and company...I know that I was not permitted by you to ever see you again, but since the night we spent together has passed I have not been able to get my mind off you...All I can really say is that being in a motorhouse never felt so comfortable...Every once in a while I can hear you tell me where to kiss you...God, you're beautiful...I must ask you to dinner...maybe we can get to know each other on different terms...
E.
it's not long, but sweet. He was one of the two guys i mentioned in my previous post....and he has, of course, a girlfriend, what a mess.
but that sounds like something...i didn't expect this at all because i was giving him shit when he left, saying that he better fix things with his girlfriend, i guess i had a bad conscience that i didn't stay true to my principles of not making out with anybody being in a relationship. argh. well, so here we go...he was really nice, in fact the only guy in the whole club who i actually liked...but how is that song from Anastacia? "CAN'T GET U OUT OF MY HEAD..." that counts for Sean....
daddy's girl
I said Sean fits quite well into the pattern I;ve always fallen for. The scary thing is, he not only fulfils one category but three in the same time. Go figure.
as in my previous post i will copy here sth i wrote in a mail to my dear New Yorker friend because I feel like I was able to clearly see things while writing him....
you know what the problem with parents is? that no matter how they are, whether or not they are, it will always have a huge impact on your relationship-life.
and for girls of course their daddy plays an important role. and the way the mom handles guys and relationships.
i figured, that if your dad is too cool and too good it isn't that good either. read why.....
"pattern? hm yes. definetely something that dates back
to my childhood/parent thing. my dad is my best friend
and advisor and challenger in intellectual/spiritual
terms. his and my moms realtionship is based on a
spiritual/emotional connection first and then secondly
the physical part. i love and worship my dad very
much, sometimes i am worried by the fact that i always
need his consent when i am doing something. i am
really good in explaining and proving him that what i
do is actually the right thing to do and even though i
still would go for what i really want i would still
ask him just to know his opinion. for example, when i
was in a dire state of confusion when i had to decide
whether or not i should be together with Jasper, my ex
in berlin i was crying on the phone talking to my dad
explaining him that i am so confused and don't know
whether piranha actually can have a 'normal'
boyfriend and stuff and stuff....
after three daughters my dad must be trained in being
a good dad i guess. he just said 'piranha, just
allow yourself this emotional chaos'
i went for Jasper.
when i decided to break up with him i explained my dad
why and he understood immidiately and said 'see,
piranha, the relationship universe demands
sacrifice...your spirit however, seems to embrace the
future and the infinte possibilities of exploring the
universe out there and so you have the need to be free
from emotional bondage and go out there.....so you
have to follow that, there is no problem whatsoever
with that. nothing wrong about it. go and explore the
world first if you feel you need to do so.'
see, my dad is my number one reference for me and
sometimes i am worried whether i will ever be able to
find a guy who can live up to my dad. thats a very
common predicament i guess and i have had crushes on
people who are very much the contrary of my dad but i
would never seriously consider being with them for a
lifetime.
and thats why i am drawn towards Sean as opposed to
Keita and Luis, who are both really nice persons,
Keita would be a very very good and loving and caring
boyfriend, but he admires me too much. you know? i
need appreciation from a critical mind to feel
approved and good and seen, not the admirration of a
seeking mind. luis is very nice, we have chemistry and
shit, but he is boring. he actually has interesting
things to say but he smokes too much pot, i would be
bored so easily. i could use him for emotional lay
backedness you know, snuggeling up, kissing, making
love.....maybe ... ;-) but i would freak out thinking
to commit myself to any of them
i don't need a goody goody boyfriend. i am attracted
by Sean because he is hell of intelligent, sarcastic
at times, interesting to talk to.....and a challenge.
and probably the grant that i will be tragically in
love like always.
this is yet another pattern i guess. i always fall in
love with people i somehow know are too far away to
restrict me but interesting enough to give me the sense of tragedy
. pedro - drugs took him far away from me.
long live tragedy and tears late at night.
Nikki - lived in Austria, 10 hours train far away.
Jerome - lived 7 hours away by train, was 15 years
older and having lots of other girls. tragedy and
drama inclusive.
jasper - was too close. i quit. he was the first
boyfriend i had who actually treated me like a queen.
and i couldn't take it. wtf?
L.A. Williams. 15 years older, in love with this lady
from Switzerland, busy DJ, not available. yeah!
and now Sean, who is there at the cafe i hang out at
school, but busy with his company, not so easy to
approach, drawn to me and in the same time avoiding
me, challenging, critical, sense of adventure, but he
is also so far away. it is sort of a safety feature i
guess.
so i guess the pattern consists mainly of my dadthing,
that i am attracted by intellectual challenge and not
so much in the first place by physicalities (although
hugging Sean makes me feel very weak...but in fact, i
ahve more chemistry with luis and keita than with him!
and he seems to be very clumsy in a way.....) and the
safety feature thing, that he is actually not
available and far away. yeah and maybe this touch of
drama and tragedy too.....
so here we go.............he said he don't talk to me
anymore so much because he doesn't want to get into
trouble. when i asked him what kind of trouble he said
'german trouble'. stupid me didn't follow up on that
but it was a statement. so i guess i am happily
unhappy in love. or so......not that it could be
compared to what i felt with david from Zimbabwe. that
was a stroke out from the blue and i was actually
ready to do anything and change everything only for
him. god thanks he was in a relationship......"
you all know i wasn't really happy he was in a relationship but seeing as my life as it is right now it is clear, that a serious commitment would have cut my way severly. and maybe not in the best way....*sigh* (fuck you all 'i want the best for you"fuckers!)
as in my previous post i will copy here sth i wrote in a mail to my dear New Yorker friend because I feel like I was able to clearly see things while writing him....
you know what the problem with parents is? that no matter how they are, whether or not they are, it will always have a huge impact on your relationship-life.
and for girls of course their daddy plays an important role. and the way the mom handles guys and relationships.
i figured, that if your dad is too cool and too good it isn't that good either. read why.....
"pattern? hm yes. definetely something that dates back
to my childhood/parent thing. my dad is my best friend
and advisor and challenger in intellectual/spiritual
terms. his and my moms realtionship is based on a
spiritual/emotional connection first and then secondly
the physical part. i love and worship my dad very
much, sometimes i am worried by the fact that i always
need his consent when i am doing something. i am
really good in explaining and proving him that what i
do is actually the right thing to do and even though i
still would go for what i really want i would still
ask him just to know his opinion. for example, when i
was in a dire state of confusion when i had to decide
whether or not i should be together with Jasper, my ex
in berlin i was crying on the phone talking to my dad
explaining him that i am so confused and don't know
whether piranha actually can have a 'normal'
boyfriend and stuff and stuff....
after three daughters my dad must be trained in being
a good dad i guess. he just said 'piranha, just
allow yourself this emotional chaos'
i went for Jasper.
when i decided to break up with him i explained my dad
why and he understood immidiately and said 'see,
piranha, the relationship universe demands
sacrifice...your spirit however, seems to embrace the
future and the infinte possibilities of exploring the
universe out there and so you have the need to be free
from emotional bondage and go out there.....so you
have to follow that, there is no problem whatsoever
with that. nothing wrong about it. go and explore the
world first if you feel you need to do so.'
see, my dad is my number one reference for me and
sometimes i am worried whether i will ever be able to
find a guy who can live up to my dad. thats a very
common predicament i guess and i have had crushes on
people who are very much the contrary of my dad but i
would never seriously consider being with them for a
lifetime.
and thats why i am drawn towards Sean as opposed to
Keita and Luis, who are both really nice persons,
Keita would be a very very good and loving and caring
boyfriend, but he admires me too much. you know? i
need appreciation from a critical mind to feel
approved and good and seen, not the admirration of a
seeking mind. luis is very nice, we have chemistry and
shit, but he is boring. he actually has interesting
things to say but he smokes too much pot, i would be
bored so easily. i could use him for emotional lay
backedness you know, snuggeling up, kissing, making
love.....maybe ... ;-) but i would freak out thinking
to commit myself to any of them
i don't need a goody goody boyfriend. i am attracted
by Sean because he is hell of intelligent, sarcastic
at times, interesting to talk to.....and a challenge.
and probably the grant that i will be tragically in
love like always.
this is yet another pattern i guess. i always fall in
love with people i somehow know are too far away to
restrict me but interesting enough to give me the sense of tragedy
. pedro - drugs took him far away from me.
long live tragedy and tears late at night.
Nikki - lived in Austria, 10 hours train far away.
Jerome - lived 7 hours away by train, was 15 years
older and having lots of other girls. tragedy and
drama inclusive.
jasper - was too close. i quit. he was the first
boyfriend i had who actually treated me like a queen.
and i couldn't take it. wtf?
L.A. Williams. 15 years older, in love with this lady
from Switzerland, busy DJ, not available. yeah!
and now Sean, who is there at the cafe i hang out at
school, but busy with his company, not so easy to
approach, drawn to me and in the same time avoiding
me, challenging, critical, sense of adventure, but he
is also so far away. it is sort of a safety feature i
guess.
so i guess the pattern consists mainly of my dadthing,
that i am attracted by intellectual challenge and not
so much in the first place by physicalities (although
hugging Sean makes me feel very weak...but in fact, i
ahve more chemistry with luis and keita than with him!
and he seems to be very clumsy in a way.....) and the
safety feature thing, that he is actually not
available and far away. yeah and maybe this touch of
drama and tragedy too.....
so here we go.............he said he don't talk to me
anymore so much because he doesn't want to get into
trouble. when i asked him what kind of trouble he said
'german trouble'. stupid me didn't follow up on that
but it was a statement. so i guess i am happily
unhappy in love. or so......not that it could be
compared to what i felt with david from Zimbabwe. that
was a stroke out from the blue and i was actually
ready to do anything and change everything only for
him. god thanks he was in a relationship......"
you all know i wasn't really happy he was in a relationship but seeing as my life as it is right now it is clear, that a serious commitment would have cut my way severly. and maybe not in the best way....*sigh* (fuck you all 'i want the best for you"fuckers!)
insights: LOVE MAKING vs. HAVING SEX
sometimes writing somebody has a very liberating effect. as you try to explain something to somebody and you genuinly try to make a sense out of what you are feeling, thinking, saying, you suddenly realize yourself things that you wouldn't have realized in a mere stat of self-reflection.
this is what i discovered today while writing my New Yorker guy (the one i stayed with but didn't make out with in the end although we got so close on an emotional and spiritual/intellectual level)
ps. i am worried most though by the fact that i had
sex twice here in LA with two different guys and both
times it was sex. i guess i shouldn't feel bad about
it and see it as a necessary step to tackle my fears
in the first place and practice a little, but the
bigger challenge is that love making. i think i am
most of all afraid of that. maybe i am afraid of
losing all my walls and breaking down and just cry and
cry and cry. that wouldn't be too good either, would
it. maybe i am dramatizing that right now, maybe i am
over analyzing, but it just crossed my mind like that.
i am very much afraid and fragile and vulnerable when
it comes to love making. and this was, by the way a
prime reason for me not to sleep with you because we
were so close on a emotional and spiritual level. i
can handle sex, you know, never see the guy again, i
don't need the security and trust of him caring for me
later on too, because i have learned to stand on my
own feet and get along in this world alone. but when i
make love i need to know the guy won't let me down.
and that i actually do want to be with him.
when it comes down to sex chemistry is extremely
important and i actually do enjoy sex and exploring
myself in that. i couldn't have sex with random
people, thats for sure. just for the fun of it....but
when there is a time that i feel i can and want to go
for it i will....
but i am aware of the fact that i can't do that for a
very long time because at one point i will have to
fucking tackle my fears about love
making.............to close the gap and discrepancy
between my sex and love life....
anyways, those were just second thoughts....
love
piranha
this is what i discovered today while writing my New Yorker guy (the one i stayed with but didn't make out with in the end although we got so close on an emotional and spiritual/intellectual level)
ps. i am worried most though by the fact that i had
sex twice here in LA with two different guys and both
times it was sex. i guess i shouldn't feel bad about
it and see it as a necessary step to tackle my fears
in the first place and practice a little, but the
bigger challenge is that love making. i think i am
most of all afraid of that. maybe i am afraid of
losing all my walls and breaking down and just cry and
cry and cry. that wouldn't be too good either, would
it. maybe i am dramatizing that right now, maybe i am
over analyzing, but it just crossed my mind like that.
i am very much afraid and fragile and vulnerable when
it comes to love making. and this was, by the way a
prime reason for me not to sleep with you because we
were so close on a emotional and spiritual level. i
can handle sex, you know, never see the guy again, i
don't need the security and trust of him caring for me
later on too, because i have learned to stand on my
own feet and get along in this world alone. but when i
make love i need to know the guy won't let me down.
and that i actually do want to be with him.
when it comes down to sex chemistry is extremely
important and i actually do enjoy sex and exploring
myself in that. i couldn't have sex with random
people, thats for sure. just for the fun of it....but
when there is a time that i feel i can and want to go
for it i will....
but i am aware of the fact that i can't do that for a
very long time because at one point i will have to
fucking tackle my fears about love
making.............to close the gap and discrepancy
between my sex and love life....
anyways, those were just second thoughts....
love
piranha
Friday, October 28, 2005
you decide
you decide.
I will post here stuff that happened between me and Sean and you guys decide what it means. I am confused. He seemed to like me but then I wasn't sure and I am so freaking confused. Don't know whether i should make a move or leave it be.....So if you want to help a sister out here, any comments are very much welcome! (no, i am not a comment whore! it s just that right now I could use a critical, unconcerned mind very well to clear the smokes in my head)(man i hope i didn't say anything stupid. that happens often to me these days that i say sth and i think it means something in English but it happens to be just a whack translation of a German proverb...)
1. S. gives me a handmassage and is all in awe about how smooth my hand is, how unusual for a guitarist ('what? i don't play the guitar with my palms, darling!') and how much it excites him and that he has to leave now because otherwise he will get in trouble.
2. We hug each other to say good bye and I mention that you need like 8 hugs per day to feel loved (Jane said so) and he is like '8 orgasms' i say 'no, hugs are so much easier to get and give' he 'orgasms are easy to give, too, especially for girls. well, okay, you might be right, for guys it could be easier to give hugs, but not for all of us, some of us got skills, you know!' me (laughing) 'yeah, go ahead, why don't you put a shirt on that says 'i got skills' or sth like that to advertise yourself?'
he 'like you' me 'what?' he 'yeah, i couldn't help staring at your cleavage the whole day!' me *confused* i didn't know what to say except for 'you even didn't see me the whole day' what made him say 'i am only kiddin' yeah.
he is muslim. maybe i should have answered, yeah, should i were a veil or what? but luckily i didn't. he is not radical anyways, he didn't really follow his ramadan rules anyways.
2a. we are talking about the German poem that i promised him to teach him how to pronounce and i say to him 'but you have to sit down with me then, if you want to do that and not run away like always!' whereas he says 'oh i wouldn't mind lying down for that matter!...' and shit like that.
3. talking about las vegas. me, out of the blue, no clue why i said that 'can i marry you in Las Vegas?' he looked at me with this kind of 'are you kiddin get the hell out of here' look and said with a freaked out voice 'no, not with me, no marrying with me or that like!!!!'
oh i was joking.....calm down already!
3a. we are all hanging out at the green room and i get mad at him for some reason and he tries to make it up to me and calm me down, feels good actually when somebody tries to do that ;-) and later he says 'oh yeah, you are allright piranha, you chill. you are a good person'
yah. whatever
4. I touched a snake that somebody wore around his neck and Sean explains me i have to wash my hands because of salmonelles or what they are called like in English, before i touch me or especially him. Me "well i didn't want to touch you in the first place' but then i said 'oh no, actually i have to hold myself back all the time not to touch you'. when i said that he came over to me, really close and said 'are you being sarcastic?' after which i said 'no, actually that happens to me often that people think i am joking when i am actually being serious and honest! so i am being honest about that!' when i said that he looked at me with this killersmile and said 'i know, i believe you!' and i left......fucking coward that i am.
argh
5. me 'sean, i miss you, you don't talk to me anymore', he 'that because i want to stay out of trouble/don't want to get into trouble' i looked at him naively and asked 'what kind of trouble?' because i really wanted to know! and he just said 'German trouble', obviously he wanted to stress the fact that i would be subject matter of that kind of trouble.
the interpretations of that range from 'he s got a girl' (which would fit perfectly in the 'piranha-falls-always-for-that-sort-of-guys'pattern) to 'he is afraid of falling in love with you. bullshit.
6. i give him a goodbye hug and this time i make sure it is a good hug. he immediately goes like ' mmmmh, whats that, wow, you give nice hugs' stupid me just says 'i know'
aaargh. argh.
7. i ask him sth where i can buy what and shit and suddenly he gives me a really nice goodbye hug (that was shortly after #6 so maybe he got the taste now) and kiss on my neck. what in the f? i left, like that, puzzled, weak inside, i guess just running away yet another time. i could have said sth, no let him go, keep hugging him or whatever, but i left. I left! sick me. I always think he is in a hurry to somewhere but he actually hangs out a lot! I deserve that he spends time with me, I don't have to worry about him running to whereever he has to go! i can demand to be treated nicely. but i don't . i run instead.
it makes me sad and it fucking killed all my plans to give luis a shot. but it was luis who invited me to dinner tonight. and luis who gave me a nice hand massage and a loooong hug. and it was sean i was thinking about then. fuck you sean. fuck me... i mean. love me. i want to make love not fuck. fuck.
I will post here stuff that happened between me and Sean and you guys decide what it means. I am confused. He seemed to like me but then I wasn't sure and I am so freaking confused. Don't know whether i should make a move or leave it be.....So if you want to help a sister out here, any comments are very much welcome! (no, i am not a comment whore! it s just that right now I could use a critical, unconcerned mind very well to clear the smokes in my head)(man i hope i didn't say anything stupid. that happens often to me these days that i say sth and i think it means something in English but it happens to be just a whack translation of a German proverb...)
1. S. gives me a handmassage and is all in awe about how smooth my hand is, how unusual for a guitarist ('what? i don't play the guitar with my palms, darling!') and how much it excites him and that he has to leave now because otherwise he will get in trouble.
2. We hug each other to say good bye and I mention that you need like 8 hugs per day to feel loved (Jane said so) and he is like '8 orgasms' i say 'no, hugs are so much easier to get and give' he 'orgasms are easy to give, too, especially for girls. well, okay, you might be right, for guys it could be easier to give hugs, but not for all of us, some of us got skills, you know!' me (laughing) 'yeah, go ahead, why don't you put a shirt on that says 'i got skills' or sth like that to advertise yourself?'
he 'like you' me 'what?' he 'yeah, i couldn't help staring at your cleavage the whole day!' me *confused* i didn't know what to say except for 'you even didn't see me the whole day' what made him say 'i am only kiddin' yeah.
he is muslim. maybe i should have answered, yeah, should i were a veil or what? but luckily i didn't. he is not radical anyways, he didn't really follow his ramadan rules anyways.
2a. we are talking about the German poem that i promised him to teach him how to pronounce and i say to him 'but you have to sit down with me then, if you want to do that and not run away like always!' whereas he says 'oh i wouldn't mind lying down for that matter!...' and shit like that.
3. talking about las vegas. me, out of the blue, no clue why i said that 'can i marry you in Las Vegas?' he looked at me with this kind of 'are you kiddin get the hell out of here' look and said with a freaked out voice 'no, not with me, no marrying with me or that like!!!!'
oh i was joking.....calm down already!
3a. we are all hanging out at the green room and i get mad at him for some reason and he tries to make it up to me and calm me down, feels good actually when somebody tries to do that ;-) and later he says 'oh yeah, you are allright piranha, you chill. you are a good person'
yah. whatever
4. I touched a snake that somebody wore around his neck and Sean explains me i have to wash my hands because of salmonelles or what they are called like in English, before i touch me or especially him. Me "well i didn't want to touch you in the first place' but then i said 'oh no, actually i have to hold myself back all the time not to touch you'. when i said that he came over to me, really close and said 'are you being sarcastic?' after which i said 'no, actually that happens to me often that people think i am joking when i am actually being serious and honest! so i am being honest about that!' when i said that he looked at me with this killersmile and said 'i know, i believe you!' and i left......fucking coward that i am.
argh
5. me 'sean, i miss you, you don't talk to me anymore', he 'that because i want to stay out of trouble/don't want to get into trouble' i looked at him naively and asked 'what kind of trouble?' because i really wanted to know! and he just said 'German trouble', obviously he wanted to stress the fact that i would be subject matter of that kind of trouble.
the interpretations of that range from 'he s got a girl' (which would fit perfectly in the 'piranha-falls-always-for-that-sort-of-guys'pattern) to 'he is afraid of falling in love with you. bullshit.
6. i give him a goodbye hug and this time i make sure it is a good hug. he immediately goes like ' mmmmh, whats that, wow, you give nice hugs' stupid me just says 'i know'
aaargh. argh.
7. i ask him sth where i can buy what and shit and suddenly he gives me a really nice goodbye hug (that was shortly after #6 so maybe he got the taste now) and kiss on my neck. what in the f? i left, like that, puzzled, weak inside, i guess just running away yet another time. i could have said sth, no let him go, keep hugging him or whatever, but i left. I left! sick me. I always think he is in a hurry to somewhere but he actually hangs out a lot! I deserve that he spends time with me, I don't have to worry about him running to whereever he has to go! i can demand to be treated nicely. but i don't . i run instead.
it makes me sad and it fucking killed all my plans to give luis a shot. but it was luis who invited me to dinner tonight. and luis who gave me a nice hand massage and a loooong hug. and it was sean i was thinking about then. fuck you sean. fuck me... i mean. love me. i want to make love not fuck. fuck.
confusion
so many things to say.
when i felt love like a lightening striking me in the middle of the night and in the middle of nowhere i cried and laughed and cried and lived.
it wasn't easy, as you all know, but it felt really so much more handable (is that a word?) than from what is happening now.
there are really really nice guys and boys out there, no doubts! and thats the problem, i could start liking a few of them.
but love?
and isn't that ecactly what i actually want?
it is difficult to come to a new city in a new country from one of the most gorgeous cities on earth and from the most severe lovestruck that ever happened to the recent me.
*sighs*
so there i name the gorgeous persons: Sean (first of all), Ben, Keita, Luis.
I figured yesterday night after a wild time out with my wife klodetta (we want to marry in Las Vegas, and yes, it is a joke) in HOllyweird (yeah close them bars down at 1 o clock in the morning!!!) that all i feel here is peanuts compared with what i felt for david.
i still cry sometimes when I am PMSing when i think about him and how much i long to feel like this for somebody and actually live that energy....
so as long as i don't have other problems i guess i just have to take my peanuts for the coconuts they falsely appear to be and deal with them anyways.
when i felt love like a lightening striking me in the middle of the night and in the middle of nowhere i cried and laughed and cried and lived.
it wasn't easy, as you all know, but it felt really so much more handable (is that a word?) than from what is happening now.
there are really really nice guys and boys out there, no doubts! and thats the problem, i could start liking a few of them.
but love?
and isn't that ecactly what i actually want?
it is difficult to come to a new city in a new country from one of the most gorgeous cities on earth and from the most severe lovestruck that ever happened to the recent me.
*sighs*
so there i name the gorgeous persons: Sean (first of all), Ben, Keita, Luis.
I figured yesterday night after a wild time out with my wife klodetta (we want to marry in Las Vegas, and yes, it is a joke) in HOllyweird (yeah close them bars down at 1 o clock in the morning!!!) that all i feel here is peanuts compared with what i felt for david.
i still cry sometimes when I am PMSing when i think about him and how much i long to feel like this for somebody and actually live that energy....
so as long as i don't have other problems i guess i just have to take my peanuts for the coconuts they falsely appear to be and deal with them anyways.
Monday, October 24, 2005
public transportation. Memorial to Rosa Parks
I get to take the bust quite often these days. I see many people from south america, mostly mexican, asian people (i can't tell where they are from though) and african americans. and some white people of course too.
it is hard to believe that only fifty years ago some citizens were treated like second class citizens (what in the fuck does that mean anyways? it makes me throw up just to think about that.) and not allowed to sit in the first four rows and had to give their seats up to people of a different skin colour.
'But the violence escalated: snipers fired into buses as well as Dr. King's home, and bombs were tossed into churches and into the homes of ministers.' just imagine.....my nephew was like 'i can't imagine that, whats the big deal about Rosa Parks?' but when you think about scenes like that you'll have to start wondering......
i mean, just taking this as an example of an attitude that reached way further into the lives of all concerned (whether or not they wanted it, i mean, it must have had devastating impact on the souls of young people to be raised in the belief that the colour of skin matters, that there is always a scapegoat for your problems and that some human beings can be just treated like less worthy than others. just imagine. i cry for those souls. on both sides) is already so disturbing. and it is very disturbing that we actually still don't live in modern times but rather in medieval age like times, if you look at it in a certain way. there is a lot of improvement in certain areas, most certainly the luxury part, but structural wise, mentality wise.....i have my doubts that we got a lot further.....i won't be too pessimistic, there is achievement, no doubts, but it still is surprising to think that in a time in which we have the technology, the knowledge and actually also enough experience to actually have nobody starving, being treated as a second or third class citizen, have all child being educated and all that we still don't manage to do so.
see, it exceeds the struggle of african americans to think of just the bus example. of Rosa Parks, who made a stand for a cause that I personally think is universal and not only concerning a specific people in one country.
It is all about humane behavior, about reconsidering what it truly means to be a human being, despite all the power struggles and social structures that confine and restrict us.
I remember reading about Rosa Parks, I had to do a report on the civil rights movement in school....in germany.......i was so fascinated and impressed by her but not only her, by the whole movement....the different ways it has taken.....M.L.King, Malcom X, the Nation of Islam....it shows how amazingly difficult it was and in a way still is.
and in the midst of all this she truly is all over the world the icon for the beginning of the modern civil rights movement. what we get to read about her these days, now that she died, shows that behind the legend there was a very humane, intelligent and courageous woman who could have been you, you or me. we all can make a stand in our own lives. we all can.
we all can
and you know, it is exactly this what keeps me going
we all can
and should do because obviously there is still a lot of confusion out there in the world.....
oh, and of course inside of me too ;-)
so, lets remember Rosa Parks as the beautiful human being she was and thank her and all the other unknown people she represents for what they have done...to bring awareness to a lack of understanding what it means to be human. to a situation that showed that we should be deeply worried about some features in human nature and always be aware of that.
and i say human nature and not white mens nature because i know that it is not only the white men who know how to degrade themselves to ignorant and fearful miserable beings who have to put others down in order to feel big. they sort of perfected this craft in many occasions, but then again it is the age of the western civilization at least for the parts of the world we live at and so we also had lots of opportunities to shed bad light on ourselves and bring the devil out inside of us.....
not that this counts as an excuse....i am deeply worried by that and deeply ashamed of it. i am and i cry bitter tears thinking of all the wretchedness and destruction and desaster my people left behind themselves....
and i will always cherish people like Rosa Parks, Nelson Mandela, Gandhi, King, Malcom X (yes, as well), Rosa Luxembourg, Sophie Scholl (a young German girl who was hanged because of distributing flyers against Hilter's regime) and many others who made a stand and dared to be. and change. and be beautiful. with all their flaws and doubts and love
it is hard to believe that only fifty years ago some citizens were treated like second class citizens (what in the fuck does that mean anyways? it makes me throw up just to think about that.) and not allowed to sit in the first four rows and had to give their seats up to people of a different skin colour.
'But the violence escalated: snipers fired into buses as well as Dr. King's home, and bombs were tossed into churches and into the homes of ministers.' just imagine.....my nephew was like 'i can't imagine that, whats the big deal about Rosa Parks?' but when you think about scenes like that you'll have to start wondering......
i mean, just taking this as an example of an attitude that reached way further into the lives of all concerned (whether or not they wanted it, i mean, it must have had devastating impact on the souls of young people to be raised in the belief that the colour of skin matters, that there is always a scapegoat for your problems and that some human beings can be just treated like less worthy than others. just imagine. i cry for those souls. on both sides) is already so disturbing. and it is very disturbing that we actually still don't live in modern times but rather in medieval age like times, if you look at it in a certain way. there is a lot of improvement in certain areas, most certainly the luxury part, but structural wise, mentality wise.....i have my doubts that we got a lot further.....i won't be too pessimistic, there is achievement, no doubts, but it still is surprising to think that in a time in which we have the technology, the knowledge and actually also enough experience to actually have nobody starving, being treated as a second or third class citizen, have all child being educated and all that we still don't manage to do so.
see, it exceeds the struggle of african americans to think of just the bus example. of Rosa Parks, who made a stand for a cause that I personally think is universal and not only concerning a specific people in one country.
It is all about humane behavior, about reconsidering what it truly means to be a human being, despite all the power struggles and social structures that confine and restrict us.
I remember reading about Rosa Parks, I had to do a report on the civil rights movement in school....in germany.......i was so fascinated and impressed by her but not only her, by the whole movement....the different ways it has taken.....M.L.King, Malcom X, the Nation of Islam....it shows how amazingly difficult it was and in a way still is.
and in the midst of all this she truly is all over the world the icon for the beginning of the modern civil rights movement. what we get to read about her these days, now that she died, shows that behind the legend there was a very humane, intelligent and courageous woman who could have been you, you or me. we all can make a stand in our own lives. we all can.
we all can
and you know, it is exactly this what keeps me going
we all can
and should do because obviously there is still a lot of confusion out there in the world.....
oh, and of course inside of me too ;-)
so, lets remember Rosa Parks as the beautiful human being she was and thank her and all the other unknown people she represents for what they have done...to bring awareness to a lack of understanding what it means to be human. to a situation that showed that we should be deeply worried about some features in human nature and always be aware of that.
and i say human nature and not white mens nature because i know that it is not only the white men who know how to degrade themselves to ignorant and fearful miserable beings who have to put others down in order to feel big. they sort of perfected this craft in many occasions, but then again it is the age of the western civilization at least for the parts of the world we live at and so we also had lots of opportunities to shed bad light on ourselves and bring the devil out inside of us.....
not that this counts as an excuse....i am deeply worried by that and deeply ashamed of it. i am and i cry bitter tears thinking of all the wretchedness and destruction and desaster my people left behind themselves....
and i will always cherish people like Rosa Parks, Nelson Mandela, Gandhi, King, Malcom X (yes, as well), Rosa Luxembourg, Sophie Scholl (a young German girl who was hanged because of distributing flyers against Hilter's regime) and many others who made a stand and dared to be. and change. and be beautiful. with all their flaws and doubts and love
one of those days
you know...those fucked up days.
everything feels so wrong
i can't possibly think of something that would make me feel better except for a loooooooong tight hug from a good friend, somebody i love, my sister in switzerland or sean but i don't know whether i could ask him to give me a hug. thats a bit weird, isn't it. when somebody asks you to give a looooong hug although you don't know her really............i guess it s worth a try. i think it d be embarrassing. argh. why in the fuck do i think so freakin much.....
help
everything feels so wrong
i can't possibly think of something that would make me feel better except for a loooooooong tight hug from a good friend, somebody i love, my sister in switzerland or sean but i don't know whether i could ask him to give me a hug. thats a bit weird, isn't it. when somebody asks you to give a looooong hug although you don't know her really............i guess it s worth a try. i think it d be embarrassing. argh. why in the fuck do i think so freakin much.....
help
Saturday, October 22, 2005
I want to break free (queen's song as background music recommended)
restless i wander around. nothing can fulfill me.
the food tastes good but i feel sick the wine sweeps sweet tipsyness in my system but i feel unsatisfied.
you say you wanna go somewhere loud and drink whiskey?
it ain't gonna make me feel better. what i need now is some work out. painting. being.
i am looking for: action that tastes good. music in paint that sweeps sweet inspiration in my soul and i want to pour myself into the world instead of pouring it inside of me.
i am a prisoner of my own circumstances.
-----------I want to break free)
(I want to break free)
I want to break free from your lies
You're so self satisfied I don't need you
I've want to break free
God knows, God knows I want to break free
...
-----------Oh how I want to be free, baby
Oh how I want to break free,
Oh how I want to break free
the food tastes good but i feel sick the wine sweeps sweet tipsyness in my system but i feel unsatisfied.
you say you wanna go somewhere loud and drink whiskey?
it ain't gonna make me feel better. what i need now is some work out. painting. being.
i am looking for: action that tastes good. music in paint that sweeps sweet inspiration in my soul and i want to pour myself into the world instead of pouring it inside of me.
i am a prisoner of my own circumstances.
-----------I want to break free)
(I want to break free)
I want to break free from your lies
You're so self satisfied I don't need you
I've want to break free
God knows, God knows I want to break free
...
-----------Oh how I want to be free, baby
Oh how I want to break free,
Oh how I want to break free
Friday, October 21, 2005
crushing
ice. crushed ice, limes, brown sugar, peppermint leaves cut into small pieces so the flavor can penetrate the ingredients, alc...
crush.
crush.
crush.
shake
fill it up and enjoy
mojito, ahhhhh. good stuff.
i sit in front of the green room and have this amazing conversation with a vietnam vet, a very wise guy, a 'i wear my sunglasses at night' guy.
immersed in the conversation but still aware enough to realize that he just came back. sean. oh, mojito.
i feel how i am crushing inside. the ice in my soul - crush. i start shivering. bad sign. that happened to me only whenever things got troublesome for me, when i was seriously badly falling, already fallen, ah, i remember nights sleeping in the car in front of pedro's house. shivering. calling him, my teeth shattering like an old womans disease.
sean is hyperactive. walks around, stops, jumps up again, avoids me, seeks me and here he is my brown sugar, the limes pour sour feelings into me, i stop, talk nonesense, behave stupid and basically just too much in reverse control. out of control, but still not letting go.
now, thats a predicament!
i can smell how i crush, it s like peppermint, almost invisible but still unfortunately there. i can feel like every second i push myself deeper into this glas and crush, crush, crush.
and i shake, i start shivering, again.
now all i can hope for is alc, probably, to round this cocktail up, to make it real, to make it whole. sean, i have a huge crush on you, you crush me and i don't know what to do about it, i simply don't know. i mean, other than behaving like i am the dummest person around here, of course.
i want you to touch my hand and not worry about how soft it is, and not worry about how it gets you in trouble, and i don't want you to run away to where ever you have to go, i want you to touch it, hold it and i promise, i will return much more than you actually ever hoped for.....
mojito, oh my mojito.....why is it, that i always get back to my favorite cocktails?
crush.
crush.
crush.
shake
fill it up and enjoy
mojito, ahhhhh. good stuff.
i sit in front of the green room and have this amazing conversation with a vietnam vet, a very wise guy, a 'i wear my sunglasses at night' guy.
immersed in the conversation but still aware enough to realize that he just came back. sean. oh, mojito.
i feel how i am crushing inside. the ice in my soul - crush. i start shivering. bad sign. that happened to me only whenever things got troublesome for me, when i was seriously badly falling, already fallen, ah, i remember nights sleeping in the car in front of pedro's house. shivering. calling him, my teeth shattering like an old womans disease.
sean is hyperactive. walks around, stops, jumps up again, avoids me, seeks me and here he is my brown sugar, the limes pour sour feelings into me, i stop, talk nonesense, behave stupid and basically just too much in reverse control. out of control, but still not letting go.
now, thats a predicament!
i can smell how i crush, it s like peppermint, almost invisible but still unfortunately there. i can feel like every second i push myself deeper into this glas and crush, crush, crush.
and i shake, i start shivering, again.
now all i can hope for is alc, probably, to round this cocktail up, to make it real, to make it whole. sean, i have a huge crush on you, you crush me and i don't know what to do about it, i simply don't know. i mean, other than behaving like i am the dummest person around here, of course.
i want you to touch my hand and not worry about how soft it is, and not worry about how it gets you in trouble, and i don't want you to run away to where ever you have to go, i want you to touch it, hold it and i promise, i will return much more than you actually ever hoped for.....
mojito, oh my mojito.....why is it, that i always get back to my favorite cocktails?
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Dear Heart,
why are you trippin?
See, this isn't that much of a problem. You are attracted to Luis? But you want Sean?
I tell you sompin: just be happy for once, that you feel at all! Okay! I mean, it s a good sign, in the first place!
Now, as far as this confusion is concerned: the intellectual challenge that Sean represents attracts the hunter in you. thats it, i am sorry to reveal that in such a blunt manner, but matter of fact, think about it twice: wouldn't you freakin run away if he really wanted to commit himself to you? wouldn't you, he? he? he?
ahhh, calm down. it's not that bad. Take Luis.
He smokes too much pot you say? so what? aren't you used to that by now? Come on. He deals? Yeah, chill man, thats direct financing, all straight business and not bullshit like hooking kindergarden kids up with crack or shit.
The other day when I saw him I felt how you, dear heart, jumped a little bit forward..The freckles around his eyes, the immediate urge to carress him and hold his face in your trembling hands.
*pauses*
*laughs*
oh, damn, trembling hands. jesus, you are really one piece of romantic idiocy.
but i guess i know what you are saying. you felt like you could make out with him. and now, isn't that more reasonable than trying to make out with a guy whom you feel in the first place attracted to because of his spirit and then his looks? also, he is one of those guys who fall into your pattern. don't you go blindly straight into that trap again. he is coloured, he is sharp and sarcastic and he is a challenge. bam, i caught you, heart, i caught you! ha! so what do you say now....
I'm gonna say that Luis is too easy. In the case I need some lovin I can still open up to him. But the problem is that you, dear heart, refuse to mess around. Man, just a little bit of fun! FUN! come on! whats so wrong about that?????????????? You mean, Sean is gonna be disgusted by you messin around? Jesus! who are you? you are one damn little foolish heart. Nothing more. Jesus Christ, why would you make it so heart, i mean, hard for yourself? why?
You can't let go anymore? YOu want to trust and love? Just, get off that track right now! just live and enjoy the moment!
Okay, okay, you enjoy flirting with both?
what should I say, just go ahead, but don't whine again like in your last post. I told ya! I told ya! It's been your choice!
--------------------
Sean likes me. I know that. I know it. I know it
See, this isn't that much of a problem. You are attracted to Luis? But you want Sean?
I tell you sompin: just be happy for once, that you feel at all! Okay! I mean, it s a good sign, in the first place!
Now, as far as this confusion is concerned: the intellectual challenge that Sean represents attracts the hunter in you. thats it, i am sorry to reveal that in such a blunt manner, but matter of fact, think about it twice: wouldn't you freakin run away if he really wanted to commit himself to you? wouldn't you, he? he? he?
ahhh, calm down. it's not that bad. Take Luis.
He smokes too much pot you say? so what? aren't you used to that by now? Come on. He deals? Yeah, chill man, thats direct financing, all straight business and not bullshit like hooking kindergarden kids up with crack or shit.
The other day when I saw him I felt how you, dear heart, jumped a little bit forward..The freckles around his eyes, the immediate urge to carress him and hold his face in your trembling hands.
*pauses*
*laughs*
oh, damn, trembling hands. jesus, you are really one piece of romantic idiocy.
but i guess i know what you are saying. you felt like you could make out with him. and now, isn't that more reasonable than trying to make out with a guy whom you feel in the first place attracted to because of his spirit and then his looks? also, he is one of those guys who fall into your pattern. don't you go blindly straight into that trap again. he is coloured, he is sharp and sarcastic and he is a challenge. bam, i caught you, heart, i caught you! ha! so what do you say now....
I'm gonna say that Luis is too easy. In the case I need some lovin I can still open up to him. But the problem is that you, dear heart, refuse to mess around. Man, just a little bit of fun! FUN! come on! whats so wrong about that?????????????? You mean, Sean is gonna be disgusted by you messin around? Jesus! who are you? you are one damn little foolish heart. Nothing more. Jesus Christ, why would you make it so heart, i mean, hard for yourself? why?
You can't let go anymore? YOu want to trust and love? Just, get off that track right now! just live and enjoy the moment!
Okay, okay, you enjoy flirting with both?
what should I say, just go ahead, but don't whine again like in your last post. I told ya! I told ya! It's been your choice!
--------------------
Sean likes me. I know that. I know it. I know it
just check that out!
do we make our own history? even though we maybe don't know how we want it to be?
art, the art of transforming questions into feelings, images.....
here she goes, the girl who saved my time here at LA. and still is saving....
an inspiration and motivation to go on....
www.pbase.com/kokrra
experience...... :)
art, the art of transforming questions into feelings, images.....
here she goes, the girl who saved my time here at LA. and still is saving....
an inspiration and motivation to go on....
www.pbase.com/kokrra
experience...... :)
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
love letters to a dead love
Love,
obviously I cannot write you anymore. The episode is over, we have all been supposed to move on. At times, however, I stop for a second the crazy ways of the rollercoster i am on and feel back.
Ahh. What a sweet, sweet love you was. You filled me from my toes to my hair, you was the subject matter of so many many minutes, hours, days, weeks and yes, months.
Damn. It hurts too much. I can't even pretend to write artificial love letters. Ah, it sucks. I wanted you so badly and I can't tell you that I still think of you, each freakin single time I run into the opportunity to make out with a guy. EACH TIME.
ah.
wasted empty minutes. empty sad longings i felt. what, for heavens sake, is the value of a precious stone that you preserved when nobody is ever going to see it? if it is buried deep inside my heart? what are you worth love? not making love to him because it wasn't appropriate t your feelings? would have hurt you too much? you wanted it this time all and not only 50%? AND WHO SAID that this one time making love would have been worth only 50%? ha? who? what? i wanna know whether or not it was worth something not to hurt you, my heart. was it worth it? was it worth this neverending pressure sneaking into you and making you heavy as concrete, ha, heart? was it worth that?
I just caught myself googeling stuff up about Zimbabwe. I can't believe it. I am not supposed to look back, neither are you my heart. Stop that now, stop it......
and don't you look even further. Pedro is gone, he is going his own way now. There is nothing you can do. He sold his soul to the devil, it is none of your business anyjmore.
don't
you
look
back
heart
don't
you
do
that
don't
just
d
o
n
'
t
obviously I cannot write you anymore. The episode is over, we have all been supposed to move on. At times, however, I stop for a second the crazy ways of the rollercoster i am on and feel back.
Ahh. What a sweet, sweet love you was. You filled me from my toes to my hair, you was the subject matter of so many many minutes, hours, days, weeks and yes, months.
Damn. It hurts too much. I can't even pretend to write artificial love letters. Ah, it sucks. I wanted you so badly and I can't tell you that I still think of you, each freakin single time I run into the opportunity to make out with a guy. EACH TIME.
ah.
wasted empty minutes. empty sad longings i felt. what, for heavens sake, is the value of a precious stone that you preserved when nobody is ever going to see it? if it is buried deep inside my heart? what are you worth love? not making love to him because it wasn't appropriate t your feelings? would have hurt you too much? you wanted it this time all and not only 50%? AND WHO SAID that this one time making love would have been worth only 50%? ha? who? what? i wanna know whether or not it was worth something not to hurt you, my heart. was it worth it? was it worth this neverending pressure sneaking into you and making you heavy as concrete, ha, heart? was it worth that?
I just caught myself googeling stuff up about Zimbabwe. I can't believe it. I am not supposed to look back, neither are you my heart. Stop that now, stop it......
and don't you look even further. Pedro is gone, he is going his own way now. There is nothing you can do. He sold his soul to the devil, it is none of your business anyjmore.
don't
you
look
back
heart
don't
you
do
that
don't
just
d
o
n
'
t
hang your smile up there so i can see it
sinister threatening clouds spoil my day. i walk in a bubble, outside of me there is love floating around but here in my bubble it stinks like old rotten fish.
i feel sick and want to throw up.
i want to feel something but i don't, despite the disgust i feel when i look up.
you walk by and smile and i know it s not for me. it never is unless there is a smile inside of me that is actually able to respond to yours.
please, could you hang your smile way up there somewhere and let it hang there until it dies a natural death?
I could bury it alongside mine...
i feel sick and want to throw up.
i want to feel something but i don't, despite the disgust i feel when i look up.
you walk by and smile and i know it s not for me. it never is unless there is a smile inside of me that is actually able to respond to yours.
please, could you hang your smile way up there somewhere and let it hang there until it dies a natural death?
I could bury it alongside mine...
Saturday, October 15, 2005
dark moon # 4 (or already 5?)
well, i wanted to, but it didn't work, right now at least i can't get any deeper and more profound and more scarier and darker than i managed to up to now, and yeah, i see myself that i walk in shallow water....
hm. I am piscies, i mean, i was born into the star sight of piscies and fuck, I am meant to be able to swim at the surface AND down in the depths of the ocean! but hell, what am i swearing here, it;s not of such great importance after all. talk your walk has always been one of my favorite sayings and i guess the worst thing i can say about myself is, that i have succcessully deceived myself in the past that i actually managed to do so.
just imagine, what it must feel like to sit in senior class highschool, social sciences, politics. the prof points on you and says, with a cunning and threatening voice: "Piranha, would you please explain us this issue?"
he and you know exactly and very well that you didn't listen to what he was saying throughout the whole class and that the amount of work you put in for this class at home equals zero.
his smile is sly and so are you. however, within three minutes you explain the questions away, wild but calculated mimics and gesticulations included, - the lazy knows where to place energy to be efficient.
pause.
the prof looks at you and asks you in a polite manner: "Piranha, have you ever considered becoming a politician?"
your friends giggle, they know you've just put him on your personal red list. (well, see, no, i did never have such a list. i had lists about guys i was in love with, ordered per degree of love i felt for them, but i never was consequent and actually had a red list for people i dispised or wanted to punish for being assholes. i am just talking. and not walking) with genuine passion and disgust you exclaim: "jesus christ, no, that is the LAST thing I would ever want to do!"
"why is that? you would make a brilliant politician (yeah, yeah, rubb the salt deeper into the wound, come on, come on, ) you have the rhetoric skills, the charism and eloquency that is needed (oh yeah, and then he added 'and appearance' and that is when i definitely had to breath in and out ten million times in order not to jump up and explain him, in front of the whole class how much he looked like a motherfucking studentfucking weirdo who bothered the sister of my best friend over a year because she didn't return his love. yeah. and this motherfucker ate in breaks only 3 almonds. and ran marathons and drove like i don't know, like 1 000 miles on his bike per month. he looked like a freaking ghost, at this moment he was doing a zerodiet for healths sake. appearance? what, you think you can judge by appearance? ha! I ve freaking spend one year studying the different theories and practices that exist on FACE reading and yeah, I've learnt SOMETHING! and your face, you studentfucking raving political conscience, you anorexic piece of hypocrisy tells me that.....that....ahhh, you think you can say something about ME HAVING THE R I G H T APPEARANCE TO BE A MOTHERFUCKING POLITICIAN????....well, but i digress, i am sorry....ahm, usually that doesn't happen to me, but you see, it IS a sensitive issue, after all.,..)
"I couldn't care less, I don't want to compromise"
"good point, piranha, it is still amazing how you could explaing that in THREE minutes, and it was brilliant, really, I am sure nobody understood what you were saying, but thats anyways the goal of any politician, isn't it...."
"--"
the bell rings, relief.
fast forward a few months. your lazy ass has passed the final exams with bravour, yeah, third best of the whole year is a proud ahm, thing? to be. yeah. especially because it is an lazy ass that got there. so yeah, move on, call your best friend, you are OUT of school, life starts, lest discuss the real dramatic issues of our lifes. for example, where should we go to, what should we do? nepal? south america? you dream but the dragon picks up the phone.
'hi, is lena there?'
"oh, hiiiiii (slime) Piranha!!!! (oh, why, you sound so happy to hear me? don't i interrupt one of your halfday long chitchats on the phone with one of your friends? no sighs that you have to look for her? that you have to drag your fat ass up the stairs to bring her the phone? well.....i guess i have to leave her the right to act happy that we got out of school. i mean, it s not her fault that she is a stepdragon that spoiled all the fun of visiting my best friend....arg, i digress again, i feel like on the couch already, it just pours out of me...pardon me...i move on!)
'ahm, yeah, it s me, ahm is..."
"soooo, (slime) (glurps, not that MUCH SLIME pleas....grluppss..) what are you going to do now, hmmmmm?"
"ahm, I am.." "don't you want to become a politican maybe?"
WTF? is that conspiracy? fuck you you you you and you! aaaargh, "LEEEENA!" "what?" "ahm, I just wanted to ask whether lena is at home, and no, actually i'd rather not become a politican" "oh, why not (slime slime slime, could you maybe just, i mean, little adjustments. start with the intonation maybe, i wouldn't feel this irresistable urge to throw up anymore. or the tone of your voice, maybe, yeah, that d be a good starting point...)" "hm, you know, I want to become a, ahm, a fat CEO and yeah, hijack the system from, ahm, you know. within. the belly. jona and the whale, hahaha" "ehehe" so. "so! is lena there please"
finally she handed me the phone over, but dear friends, imagine the distraction and confusion and frustration and desperation. despair? well anyway, just the ATION, and ION and all the big nouns that can discribe my utter disbelief for the matter of facts being thrown in my face?
so where did we start again, i mean, where did I, naturally, I....how could i forget. well, where did i start? walk your talk. exactly. and deceiving oneself, and realizing that one did so.
the revulsion i feel for the profession of politics has certainly to do with the compromising. because i like to think that i am not a compromising person. matter of fact, however, i AM THE DIPLOMAT> period. I am the third out of a package of four and the forth out of a package of five, and heck, exactly, it doesn't mean really anything, but i am the baby girl and i've been there, seen that and decided not to DO it. IT? nope, i am not yet speaking of sex again. I mean, fighting. argueing. yelling, crying, smashing doors, hating. I saw my sister do that one time too often. I decided I wouldn't want to go through the same shit. I decided to gain trust and live a happy life. manipulativ, if you will, or just intelligently, if I may, or just, justified maybe. but at any rate diplomatic. I don't need to get ONE thing. I can look at things from one too many sides and too many perspectives and adjust to the situation and still be happy. great huh? yeah, the catch is, that this doesn't make me really a person that is known for running through walls, if I may use a German proverb here. the head is missing. okay, i mean, running through walls with your head. satisfied? right. okay. COMPROMISING. that is. it has its good and bad sides, don't tell me, i know them all.
now, why so upset? lets go deeper. hypocrisy. talking and not walking. FUCK YOU ALL ARGH< YOU BUSHES< WOODS and woods of politicians who kiss asses to find their own little EL Dorado. just, why don't you all join in a nice, fine orgie of analfucking in los angeles. yeah, here, why not here. come here, here is the right place for hypocrisy, shallow talking, convincing people by talking and acting and keeping empty inside. that is the right place, and god, it hurts! I mean, it hurts when I look at the beauty of the place, and with disgust and physical pain in my body have to realize that this must have been a sacred place once but long before....
yeah, and come here, join in your a-fuck and dig there, deep, maybe you'll find gold, and if it is not shining and shimmering it still might be just the black gold. ya know, BLACK. GOLD. eat your gas, inhale it, dig your dick out and inhale it! and then just , evaporate, please, just for me and my little nasty phantasies, that would really turn me on.
so, okay, did i digress? you know, one thing is funny. when we want to say someone is digressing in German, we say, he is going into the bush. yeah. haha.
well, so, if you think you are someone who walks their talks and you find out you are actually not, and the reason why it took you so long to realize it (but wait, i did realize that before! i just checked in my diaries! god, what ingenious invention such a nasty diary! it tells you straight in your face that you were just circeling yet again. aargh. okay, matt! i am done! i don't give up, but you areright, it s written, black on white.,...jesus, how annoying....) is that you are such A MOTHERFUCKING GREAT, ELOQUENT, RHETORICAL BRILLIANT, SKILLED, CONVINCING TALKER!. Now, my sister would tell me straight, that i suck. but see, i am not a native speaker, I did not live in LA for 8 years, I am not SUPPOSED to be a great talker here yet, let alone, a convincing one, otherwise I would really have issues, i mean, then it would really be time for me to go and check whether i d maybe should join the ranks of ingenious people in the mad house! that d be fun, but hey, wait a minute okay!
so did you see my point? being a mothetr..ahm, i won't use that word again, i promise okay? so...let me think of...yeah, here we go, a nice russina one, nobody will know what it means and i will feel fine anyway....so, being a jui, a JUI (J=pronounce like 'J' in the spanish "juan") talker, of whom people frequently friendly demand to become a politican. (Yeah, right! ...oh, don't get me started...) is a great ordeal for me, because it helps me to disguise from myself the bitter facts about my sorry ass. in this case, NOT walking my talk as much as I want to. not 'would like to', really WANT to! but tomorrow will be another daily life day and I will make myself busy with a trilliad of things that will conceal from me my true convictions and wants.
that leads me to the last point, it is not only about being deceiving of myself, not walking my talk but actually talking me into the belief that i am doing allright with it the way it is right now, it is also about convictions and making a stand.
now, people who know me will shake their head now and say:"BUT piranha, calm down, you are the one who stood up for us so many times, or for what you wanted. you got your way so many times! you founded this greenpeace youthgroup when you were, like, what? 11? see! isn't that GRRREAT?" fraaaah. bla. blah. yeah, I CAN make a stand, and dear, that exactly IS the criminal part about it! I CAN AND I DON"T. aargh. it s so frustrating.
when I was younger I obviously didn't use my head so much but rather my heart. and thats when i stood up for many things, i reacted, and acted, and when i got older, i must've been in my late teenies, at some point i decided i need more knowledge before i do anything anymore. i need to understand more in order to do better and more things. but it seems to take ages, it seems so endless right now to me, and i am so freaking afraid, that a bad habit will result of it, and i am even more afraid of this being just a nice little dramatic funny text and me enjoying writing it and nothing will result of it. it is a vicious circle, it is! i don't know. but the problem is really, that i feel i cannot take sides as easily anymore, as i could right now with my teacher. see, back then i wouldnt' even have THOUGHT sth like i just wrote about him. i understood BOTH sides to the problem. jesus! I am so freaking multiviewed.
and the reason why i brougth this all up is that my sister had a crisis today and when i tried to talk to her she screamed at me and said: "and you, you are just llike a stuffed doll! you could have stood up for me! you know that i am busting my ass all the time, you know all these things, and you didn't say A WORD when x and y put me down!"
now, matter of fact, i didn't THINK that they put her really down, matter of perspective right? but sure, a Mam and wife will perceive things more sensitively than a stuffed out sister doll. *sadly grinning*. and, the worst thing, while sitting there and all that happen I even thought: "wow, maybe i just have to maker HER strong, because that is obviously the key to the happiness in this house. just always protecting HER" and then this insult, it was touch, ladies and g'men, it was tough.
and thats why i think today again, man, i wish i could take a side and actually make a stand for it. and believe it. and be convinced. and not wait for the analysis to arrive from the labatory but actually fight.
other, than a nasty ugly ass hypocritical slimy, compromising and losing politician.
----------------------------
ps i like nelson mandela despite my despising the rest of the crowd. and despite him having his own share of political dirt under his cover....
oh, and
pps - thanks to my cursed out 'multiviewedness' (nice word, ha? :-)) I can see, of course the good point about the incident with my sister and my whole situation here, too! that is: LEARNING to make a stand and choose a side QUICKLY. i mean, faster than usual maybe. and, even though i might still have objections and seeing the points of the other.
ah, that will be difficult but necessary. and good for me guess, and probably fun in the end.
you know, honestly, in an argument or so i can, of course, make a stand and hold a certain view, but i will most likely always explain you in the end, that i just hold this position because nobody else would have and this side would have been lost in the course of the battle...and that my true convictions are somewhat less defined and more heart oriented than with rational arguements.....
hm. I am piscies, i mean, i was born into the star sight of piscies and fuck, I am meant to be able to swim at the surface AND down in the depths of the ocean! but hell, what am i swearing here, it;s not of such great importance after all. talk your walk has always been one of my favorite sayings and i guess the worst thing i can say about myself is, that i have succcessully deceived myself in the past that i actually managed to do so.
just imagine, what it must feel like to sit in senior class highschool, social sciences, politics. the prof points on you and says, with a cunning and threatening voice: "Piranha, would you please explain us this issue?"
he and you know exactly and very well that you didn't listen to what he was saying throughout the whole class and that the amount of work you put in for this class at home equals zero.
his smile is sly and so are you. however, within three minutes you explain the questions away, wild but calculated mimics and gesticulations included, - the lazy knows where to place energy to be efficient.
pause.
the prof looks at you and asks you in a polite manner: "Piranha, have you ever considered becoming a politician?"
your friends giggle, they know you've just put him on your personal red list. (well, see, no, i did never have such a list. i had lists about guys i was in love with, ordered per degree of love i felt for them, but i never was consequent and actually had a red list for people i dispised or wanted to punish for being assholes. i am just talking. and not walking) with genuine passion and disgust you exclaim: "jesus christ, no, that is the LAST thing I would ever want to do!"
"why is that? you would make a brilliant politician (yeah, yeah, rubb the salt deeper into the wound, come on, come on, ) you have the rhetoric skills, the charism and eloquency that is needed (oh yeah, and then he added 'and appearance' and that is when i definitely had to breath in and out ten million times in order not to jump up and explain him, in front of the whole class how much he looked like a motherfucking studentfucking weirdo who bothered the sister of my best friend over a year because she didn't return his love. yeah. and this motherfucker ate in breaks only 3 almonds. and ran marathons and drove like i don't know, like 1 000 miles on his bike per month. he looked like a freaking ghost, at this moment he was doing a zerodiet for healths sake. appearance? what, you think you can judge by appearance? ha! I ve freaking spend one year studying the different theories and practices that exist on FACE reading and yeah, I've learnt SOMETHING! and your face, you studentfucking raving political conscience, you anorexic piece of hypocrisy tells me that.....that....ahhh, you think you can say something about ME HAVING THE R I G H T APPEARANCE TO BE A MOTHERFUCKING POLITICIAN????....well, but i digress, i am sorry....ahm, usually that doesn't happen to me, but you see, it IS a sensitive issue, after all.,..)
"I couldn't care less, I don't want to compromise"
"good point, piranha, it is still amazing how you could explaing that in THREE minutes, and it was brilliant, really, I am sure nobody understood what you were saying, but thats anyways the goal of any politician, isn't it...."
"--"
the bell rings, relief.
fast forward a few months. your lazy ass has passed the final exams with bravour, yeah, third best of the whole year is a proud ahm, thing? to be. yeah. especially because it is an lazy ass that got there. so yeah, move on, call your best friend, you are OUT of school, life starts, lest discuss the real dramatic issues of our lifes. for example, where should we go to, what should we do? nepal? south america? you dream but the dragon picks up the phone.
'hi, is lena there?'
"oh, hiiiiii (slime) Piranha!!!! (oh, why, you sound so happy to hear me? don't i interrupt one of your halfday long chitchats on the phone with one of your friends? no sighs that you have to look for her? that you have to drag your fat ass up the stairs to bring her the phone? well.....i guess i have to leave her the right to act happy that we got out of school. i mean, it s not her fault that she is a stepdragon that spoiled all the fun of visiting my best friend....arg, i digress again, i feel like on the couch already, it just pours out of me...pardon me...i move on!)
'ahm, yeah, it s me, ahm is..."
"soooo, (slime) (glurps, not that MUCH SLIME pleas....grluppss..) what are you going to do now, hmmmmm?"
"ahm, I am.." "don't you want to become a politican maybe?"
WTF? is that conspiracy? fuck you you you you and you! aaaargh, "LEEEENA!" "what?" "ahm, I just wanted to ask whether lena is at home, and no, actually i'd rather not become a politican" "oh, why not (slime slime slime, could you maybe just, i mean, little adjustments. start with the intonation maybe, i wouldn't feel this irresistable urge to throw up anymore. or the tone of your voice, maybe, yeah, that d be a good starting point...)" "hm, you know, I want to become a, ahm, a fat CEO and yeah, hijack the system from, ahm, you know. within. the belly. jona and the whale, hahaha" "ehehe" so. "so! is lena there please"
finally she handed me the phone over, but dear friends, imagine the distraction and confusion and frustration and desperation. despair? well anyway, just the ATION, and ION and all the big nouns that can discribe my utter disbelief for the matter of facts being thrown in my face?
so where did we start again, i mean, where did I, naturally, I....how could i forget. well, where did i start? walk your talk. exactly. and deceiving oneself, and realizing that one did so.
the revulsion i feel for the profession of politics has certainly to do with the compromising. because i like to think that i am not a compromising person. matter of fact, however, i AM THE DIPLOMAT> period. I am the third out of a package of four and the forth out of a package of five, and heck, exactly, it doesn't mean really anything, but i am the baby girl and i've been there, seen that and decided not to DO it. IT? nope, i am not yet speaking of sex again. I mean, fighting. argueing. yelling, crying, smashing doors, hating. I saw my sister do that one time too often. I decided I wouldn't want to go through the same shit. I decided to gain trust and live a happy life. manipulativ, if you will, or just intelligently, if I may, or just, justified maybe. but at any rate diplomatic. I don't need to get ONE thing. I can look at things from one too many sides and too many perspectives and adjust to the situation and still be happy. great huh? yeah, the catch is, that this doesn't make me really a person that is known for running through walls, if I may use a German proverb here. the head is missing. okay, i mean, running through walls with your head. satisfied? right. okay. COMPROMISING. that is. it has its good and bad sides, don't tell me, i know them all.
now, why so upset? lets go deeper. hypocrisy. talking and not walking. FUCK YOU ALL ARGH< YOU BUSHES< WOODS and woods of politicians who kiss asses to find their own little EL Dorado. just, why don't you all join in a nice, fine orgie of analfucking in los angeles. yeah, here, why not here. come here, here is the right place for hypocrisy, shallow talking, convincing people by talking and acting and keeping empty inside. that is the right place, and god, it hurts! I mean, it hurts when I look at the beauty of the place, and with disgust and physical pain in my body have to realize that this must have been a sacred place once but long before....
yeah, and come here, join in your a-fuck and dig there, deep, maybe you'll find gold, and if it is not shining and shimmering it still might be just the black gold. ya know, BLACK. GOLD. eat your gas, inhale it, dig your dick out and inhale it! and then just , evaporate, please, just for me and my little nasty phantasies, that would really turn me on.
so, okay, did i digress? you know, one thing is funny. when we want to say someone is digressing in German, we say, he is going into the bush. yeah. haha.
well, so, if you think you are someone who walks their talks and you find out you are actually not, and the reason why it took you so long to realize it (but wait, i did realize that before! i just checked in my diaries! god, what ingenious invention such a nasty diary! it tells you straight in your face that you were just circeling yet again. aargh. okay, matt! i am done! i don't give up, but you areright, it s written, black on white.,...jesus, how annoying....) is that you are such A MOTHERFUCKING GREAT, ELOQUENT, RHETORICAL BRILLIANT, SKILLED, CONVINCING TALKER!. Now, my sister would tell me straight, that i suck. but see, i am not a native speaker, I did not live in LA for 8 years, I am not SUPPOSED to be a great talker here yet, let alone, a convincing one, otherwise I would really have issues, i mean, then it would really be time for me to go and check whether i d maybe should join the ranks of ingenious people in the mad house! that d be fun, but hey, wait a minute okay!
so did you see my point? being a mothetr..ahm, i won't use that word again, i promise okay? so...let me think of...yeah, here we go, a nice russina one, nobody will know what it means and i will feel fine anyway....so, being a jui, a JUI (J=pronounce like 'J' in the spanish "juan") talker, of whom people frequently friendly demand to become a politican. (Yeah, right! ...oh, don't get me started...) is a great ordeal for me, because it helps me to disguise from myself the bitter facts about my sorry ass. in this case, NOT walking my talk as much as I want to. not 'would like to', really WANT to! but tomorrow will be another daily life day and I will make myself busy with a trilliad of things that will conceal from me my true convictions and wants.
that leads me to the last point, it is not only about being deceiving of myself, not walking my talk but actually talking me into the belief that i am doing allright with it the way it is right now, it is also about convictions and making a stand.
now, people who know me will shake their head now and say:"BUT piranha, calm down, you are the one who stood up for us so many times, or for what you wanted. you got your way so many times! you founded this greenpeace youthgroup when you were, like, what? 11? see! isn't that GRRREAT?" fraaaah. bla. blah. yeah, I CAN make a stand, and dear, that exactly IS the criminal part about it! I CAN AND I DON"T. aargh. it s so frustrating.
when I was younger I obviously didn't use my head so much but rather my heart. and thats when i stood up for many things, i reacted, and acted, and when i got older, i must've been in my late teenies, at some point i decided i need more knowledge before i do anything anymore. i need to understand more in order to do better and more things. but it seems to take ages, it seems so endless right now to me, and i am so freaking afraid, that a bad habit will result of it, and i am even more afraid of this being just a nice little dramatic funny text and me enjoying writing it and nothing will result of it. it is a vicious circle, it is! i don't know. but the problem is really, that i feel i cannot take sides as easily anymore, as i could right now with my teacher. see, back then i wouldnt' even have THOUGHT sth like i just wrote about him. i understood BOTH sides to the problem. jesus! I am so freaking multiviewed.
and the reason why i brougth this all up is that my sister had a crisis today and when i tried to talk to her she screamed at me and said: "and you, you are just llike a stuffed doll! you could have stood up for me! you know that i am busting my ass all the time, you know all these things, and you didn't say A WORD when x and y put me down!"
now, matter of fact, i didn't THINK that they put her really down, matter of perspective right? but sure, a Mam and wife will perceive things more sensitively than a stuffed out sister doll. *sadly grinning*. and, the worst thing, while sitting there and all that happen I even thought: "wow, maybe i just have to maker HER strong, because that is obviously the key to the happiness in this house. just always protecting HER" and then this insult, it was touch, ladies and g'men, it was tough.
and thats why i think today again, man, i wish i could take a side and actually make a stand for it. and believe it. and be convinced. and not wait for the analysis to arrive from the labatory but actually fight.
other, than a nasty ugly ass hypocritical slimy, compromising and losing politician.
----------------------------
ps i like nelson mandela despite my despising the rest of the crowd. and despite him having his own share of political dirt under his cover....
oh, and
pps - thanks to my cursed out 'multiviewedness' (nice word, ha? :-)) I can see, of course the good point about the incident with my sister and my whole situation here, too! that is: LEARNING to make a stand and choose a side QUICKLY. i mean, faster than usual maybe. and, even though i might still have objections and seeing the points of the other.
ah, that will be difficult but necessary. and good for me guess, and probably fun in the end.
you know, honestly, in an argument or so i can, of course, make a stand and hold a certain view, but i will most likely always explain you in the end, that i just hold this position because nobody else would have and this side would have been lost in the course of the battle...and that my true convictions are somewhat less defined and more heart oriented than with rational arguements.....
Friday, October 14, 2005
...but i still gonna want you even when i am big!
Yesterday evening I witnessed one incredible moment that gave me a little glimpse into the mystery of the love between a mother and her kid...
we lay on the bed and were going to watch a movie when finally, finally his mommy came back.
'did you get enough love today?' she asked
'nooooo'
she kuddeled him, kissed his face all over and over again, asking him every now and then whether he had now enough love for this day but he couldn't get enough so they eventually just curled up next to me on the bed and kuddeled.
'what, what are you crying?'
i looked away from the movie and saw this little guy, this little five year old kid dissolve in tears snuggeling up in his mam's arms.
she asked him for the reason and suddenly he just sobbed: 'i am still gonna want you even when i am big!'...
he kept asking again and again, whether she would die if he was his daddy's age. 'i am not going to die anywhen soon, darling' she said...'but you are so big and i am so little, you are going to die sooner than i am and i don't want you, i still gonna want you even when i am big!!!!' she looked at me. 'piranha, isn't this just one worthwhile reason to have kids?'....true, sis, true.....
'mam, can't we die together?' he sobbed 'i really don't want you to die without me, i love you so much...'
dear bloggers and whoever happens to read this post, i was myself moved to tears. this little boy had for some reason realized that his mommy would be going to die one day. the mystery of death, death concerning only the world but not the home had evaporated in a hot late summer day in L.A. and a little person learned about the fatality of living....
'i wish' he sobbed inbetween tears ' i wish i was a baby and wouldn't understand about dying' he cried and his mommy hugged him very very tightly and said that she wouldn't be dying, that she would do her best to become 120 and that they could die together then.....they actually made a 'pinky-pact' that they both would try not to die prematurely, in an accident or something like that (like running on the street like he does....;-)......) but she couldn't stop his desperate tears....
finally she started counting down for him all the years she supposedly still has to live and said that he would be an old tattery man with a long beard and bold head by this time...thats when he finally started giggeling and calming down...
this whole little crisis was so heartmoving...it was so innocent so genuine and so full of love, it revealed both the realization of life and a bigger world outthere and the incredible depths and powers of the love a son can feel for his mommy....
and i hate this little fucker sometimes because he is so lazy and freaking annoying! and, jesus, isn't he just one adorable little kid????????
we lay on the bed and were going to watch a movie when finally, finally his mommy came back.
'did you get enough love today?' she asked
'nooooo'
she kuddeled him, kissed his face all over and over again, asking him every now and then whether he had now enough love for this day but he couldn't get enough so they eventually just curled up next to me on the bed and kuddeled.
'what, what are you crying?'
i looked away from the movie and saw this little guy, this little five year old kid dissolve in tears snuggeling up in his mam's arms.
she asked him for the reason and suddenly he just sobbed: 'i am still gonna want you even when i am big!'...
he kept asking again and again, whether she would die if he was his daddy's age. 'i am not going to die anywhen soon, darling' she said...'but you are so big and i am so little, you are going to die sooner than i am and i don't want you, i still gonna want you even when i am big!!!!' she looked at me. 'piranha, isn't this just one worthwhile reason to have kids?'....true, sis, true.....
'mam, can't we die together?' he sobbed 'i really don't want you to die without me, i love you so much...'
dear bloggers and whoever happens to read this post, i was myself moved to tears. this little boy had for some reason realized that his mommy would be going to die one day. the mystery of death, death concerning only the world but not the home had evaporated in a hot late summer day in L.A. and a little person learned about the fatality of living....
'i wish' he sobbed inbetween tears ' i wish i was a baby and wouldn't understand about dying' he cried and his mommy hugged him very very tightly and said that she wouldn't be dying, that she would do her best to become 120 and that they could die together then.....they actually made a 'pinky-pact' that they both would try not to die prematurely, in an accident or something like that (like running on the street like he does....;-)......) but she couldn't stop his desperate tears....
finally she started counting down for him all the years she supposedly still has to live and said that he would be an old tattery man with a long beard and bold head by this time...thats when he finally started giggeling and calming down...
this whole little crisis was so heartmoving...it was so innocent so genuine and so full of love, it revealed both the realization of life and a bigger world outthere and the incredible depths and powers of the love a son can feel for his mommy....
and i hate this little fucker sometimes because he is so lazy and freaking annoying! and, jesus, isn't he just one adorable little kid????????
Thursday, October 13, 2005
let me just add...
...that after having thought through it yet another time I should definitely say that it is actually everything that is not white that I am fairly attracted to. It already gets better in south europe....I dig the southern mentality just way more than the rest of europe....in Italy, for example, I felt really comfortable, because nobody would complain about me talking too loud or making too many weird moves with my hands and whole body.....;-)
May it be for the sake of difference, the other that is beckoning and alluring, but I don't really think so. I've always been deeply interested and emotionally involved with native american issues, african issues, maori, aborigines.... yes I was even into the asian tribes for a while, although I don't really have an access to that right now anymore....
and i have shed a lot of bitter and desperate tears when recalling what my people did.
in my case it is even specifically close as my Grandfather from my Dad's side was a convinced Nazi....but as we all know it all reaches back so much further....
I just realized all that right now because a guy from the pony tribe (i don't know whether or not i spelled that right) who lived way back in the black hills, dakota, gave my niece such a special gift to show his respect and love to her that she and I started crying. She is half native (south american) and obviously my older sister shares in my reversed racism. Matter of fact, she was horrified when she got pregnant from her new husband and was endlessly happy that this little white guy became sucha fluffy smiley person. I guess that all sounds quite stupid right now, i have to apologize, as I said before, I am sick and not all with myself right now.....
May it be for the sake of difference, the other that is beckoning and alluring, but I don't really think so. I've always been deeply interested and emotionally involved with native american issues, african issues, maori, aborigines.... yes I was even into the asian tribes for a while, although I don't really have an access to that right now anymore....
and i have shed a lot of bitter and desperate tears when recalling what my people did.
in my case it is even specifically close as my Grandfather from my Dad's side was a convinced Nazi....but as we all know it all reaches back so much further....
I just realized all that right now because a guy from the pony tribe (i don't know whether or not i spelled that right) who lived way back in the black hills, dakota, gave my niece such a special gift to show his respect and love to her that she and I started crying. She is half native (south american) and obviously my older sister shares in my reversed racism. Matter of fact, she was horrified when she got pregnant from her new husband and was endlessly happy that this little white guy became sucha fluffy smiley person. I guess that all sounds quite stupid right now, i have to apologize, as I said before, I am sick and not all with myself right now.....
dark moon #4
yes, i confess.I am sick like I haven't been for a very very long time. I hardly can swallow at all, can't really talk, feel like a wretched human being and have nothing else to do than thinking. or suffering ;-)
so i thought about what might be the next post about my dark sides. and i came across the following. and although it is not actually something very bad or something i have to be ashamed nor afraid of i figured that it belongs to the dark sides, as i have always thought that i am not a racist. and to confess that i most probably am is quite difficult to do...
so here we go...
i have always sort of said it is a klischee about me, and i don't know how this legend was created that i am all into coloured people but i think now it is time to confess that i am a racist of a strange sort.
I mean, I was in love with 'whiteys', I had a white boyfriend, so it s not too bad. I don't really want to care about the colour of skin.
But I can't help it, it s true that I check the coloured ones first out before the rest of the crowd.
Is it like a bad sort of jungle fever? I don't know. I wish it wasn't. Maybe it's because I've always sympathized with the minorities, no matter which. But that can't be all to it. I am simply more attracted by black or other coloured folks.
As if it would matter....
Strange, huh, but apparently it does matter, otherwise there wouldn't be such a great fuzz about it....
i mean, generally.
See, it already starts with the majority of bloggers i read frequently: black folks from all over the world.
Then my conviction that my kids won't be white. Never, I just can't imagine that. It s as if this was burnt in my hardware somehow.
My interest in everything that is connected with africa, in the broadest meaning of the word. I mean the whole atlantic black diaspora....Honestly, i can't help it, this is just how things are...
The guy who got me in trouble over here, raising my heart rate each time I see him at my school - he is one of you guys....It s not like I am blinded. I still can distinguish between stupid and good people. but there is a strong tendency that draws me towards black folks.
I've already phantasized that I probably was myself black last life (yes I do believe in re-incarnation) and thats why I feel like home with my black friends. It's interesting to be white, I guess, I mean, there is so much to deal with, so much bullshit that my white ancestors created so much to make up for. I know, its not like black folks don't know how to do bad things, good lord, no, but there is definitely a very specific package that comes along with being white. and I guess i just have to carry that. which will not, of course, by any means prevent me from having my chocolate babies and indulging in my jungle fever without ever taking pills to cure it!!!! And strongly hoping that there are people out there who don't care about colour as much as I do (well, to be honest, it s not so much only the colour but also the difference of mentality!) ......you know!~?
so i thought about what might be the next post about my dark sides. and i came across the following. and although it is not actually something very bad or something i have to be ashamed nor afraid of i figured that it belongs to the dark sides, as i have always thought that i am not a racist. and to confess that i most probably am is quite difficult to do...
so here we go...
i have always sort of said it is a klischee about me, and i don't know how this legend was created that i am all into coloured people but i think now it is time to confess that i am a racist of a strange sort.
I mean, I was in love with 'whiteys', I had a white boyfriend, so it s not too bad. I don't really want to care about the colour of skin.
But I can't help it, it s true that I check the coloured ones first out before the rest of the crowd.
Is it like a bad sort of jungle fever? I don't know. I wish it wasn't. Maybe it's because I've always sympathized with the minorities, no matter which. But that can't be all to it. I am simply more attracted by black or other coloured folks.
As if it would matter....
Strange, huh, but apparently it does matter, otherwise there wouldn't be such a great fuzz about it....
i mean, generally.
See, it already starts with the majority of bloggers i read frequently: black folks from all over the world.
Then my conviction that my kids won't be white. Never, I just can't imagine that. It s as if this was burnt in my hardware somehow.
My interest in everything that is connected with africa, in the broadest meaning of the word. I mean the whole atlantic black diaspora....Honestly, i can't help it, this is just how things are...
The guy who got me in trouble over here, raising my heart rate each time I see him at my school - he is one of you guys....It s not like I am blinded. I still can distinguish between stupid and good people. but there is a strong tendency that draws me towards black folks.
I've already phantasized that I probably was myself black last life (yes I do believe in re-incarnation) and thats why I feel like home with my black friends. It's interesting to be white, I guess, I mean, there is so much to deal with, so much bullshit that my white ancestors created so much to make up for. I know, its not like black folks don't know how to do bad things, good lord, no, but there is definitely a very specific package that comes along with being white. and I guess i just have to carry that. which will not, of course, by any means prevent me from having my chocolate babies and indulging in my jungle fever without ever taking pills to cure it!!!! And strongly hoping that there are people out there who don't care about colour as much as I do (well, to be honest, it s not so much only the colour but also the difference of mentality!) ......you know!~?
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
reminder.
i had to do this, i just had to remind myself that there are people out there who actually think the world of me. so if i don't do it, somebody else has to do it, right?
here we go, thats a comment a very good friend of mine from India wrote about me....
Piranha is everywhere...for 9 months I met her in the hallways, in the dining-hall, on the dance floor, at the bus station, in her bedroom, bathroom, computer lab, lawns, on the tree (with her mother!), in the subway, in the gym, in heaven and at ECLA.
Piranha is a creative spark of the divine. Of the Atman. She's 38 things all rolled into one. I didn't even bother trying to pin her down...it's impossible. If you want to experience LIFE in its many-splendored forms go hang out with Piranha and if you come away unchanged, untouched...then you either met the wrong person or you're a block of wood. CAUTION: Piranha is NOT for the faint-hearted. If you can't walk on your hands, juggle 5 oranges while cycling or play the guitar while painting with your feet then I suggest you opt to spend time with someone more at your level. I'm kidding...she's got something special in her for everyone.
ahhhh, that was good. it s too good to be true, but it s like tiramisu, every once in a while it is okay to eat it and enjoy it....ahhhh. *sigh* thank you joseph....:)
here we go, thats a comment a very good friend of mine from India wrote about me....
Piranha is everywhere...for 9 months I met her in the hallways, in the dining-hall, on the dance floor, at the bus station, in her bedroom, bathroom, computer lab, lawns, on the tree (with her mother!), in the subway, in the gym, in heaven and at ECLA.
Piranha is a creative spark of the divine. Of the Atman. She's 38 things all rolled into one. I didn't even bother trying to pin her down...it's impossible. If you want to experience LIFE in its many-splendored forms go hang out with Piranha and if you come away unchanged, untouched...then you either met the wrong person or you're a block of wood. CAUTION: Piranha is NOT for the faint-hearted. If you can't walk on your hands, juggle 5 oranges while cycling or play the guitar while painting with your feet then I suggest you opt to spend time with someone more at your level. I'm kidding...she's got something special in her for everyone.
ahhhh, that was good. it s too good to be true, but it s like tiramisu, every once in a while it is okay to eat it and enjoy it....ahhhh. *sigh* thank you joseph....:)
Sunday, October 09, 2005
sad, on the other side of the moon...
there I sit, sad and at the verge of crying.
my face is sunburnt, my body worked out but I've looked into the abyss of grievance and saddness, desperation and deep emotional insecurity...nothing can really cover this feeling I have right now....
Best thing would be to sleep but I force myself to drag my tired body up again and do something. I feel guilty and most of all, like a stupid little fuck, a failure in the first place.
STOP!
Remind yourself that you freaking ARE yourself!
Remind yourself that you ARE NOT your sisters! None of them.
STOP!
You are okay, just make up your mind, quickly, to whose standars you want to live up to....
My heart feels heavy like concrete. Outside, in some of the others welfare housings somebody plays piano. My niece takes a shower. The fucking air conditioning never stops. This sound....In a couple of month I will probalby not hear it anymore....If I am still here then....
Slowly I flip through my stuff I brought along. A letter falls into my hands. I look at it. It is from 2001. From a guy who liked me and I didn't get it really. The one who instigated the idea in me to actually DO graffiti and not only talk about it. When I told him about the impact he had on my life he was very surprised. But this is the past.
A deep sigh.
Photos.
Tears dwell up in my eyes. Postcards.
Ah, such a wonderful thing. Postcards. Remind me of the past, of times I forgot, well, not forgot, but just wasn't aware of.
L___. My favorite cousin. Dreamy eyes, manly, in the nature....He taught me how to drive back in 1999, on dusty, dark roads in France....I was so excited, I was so young, so adventurous and full of ideals and ideas. Enthusiasm....I worshipped him...
He was the one who told me that he thinks that all the drugs he did seriously harmed him in a way that they prevented him from achieving what he could have achieved otherwise....the one who insisted on his claim that nobody needs to go through that shit in order to understand that....the one who affirmed my natural declination against drugs.....luckily....
Iljana. My first 'long distance' friendship. Still friends. Russia 1998. The whole tent with her stuff burnt down. We in the plains...writing poetry...feeling deeply, almost 15 years old....ahhh, so young, but we felt so alive. Acrobatics in the middle of nowhere.....singing 'winds of change', having plans, loving Joan Baez, Mercedes Sossa, Tango...and of course all about boys.... :)
The three postcards, which, held together, show the photo of a beautiful black guy, black white photography, three postcards from my dear friend Elissa who does not understand but loves my 'black soul'. That was during Abitur, our final year...we shared our sorrows and joys with each other...I was there when she was sick in her little room and cured her and she witnessed the whole fucked up story with Mr. Asshole. Being drunk in the little chalet at T.Berg, studying for the final English Exam....watching romantic, hopelessly romantic movies...Chris and my sister suddenly dropping by, attaching sleds to the VW van, sliding through the silent snowy village....
Sitting in the couch after the first big maths exam...drinking white wine, a pattern of sunlight and shadows woven into the air, painted on our faces....her jokes, our little fights, our being different and our love....her quitting cigarettes and me starting....her devotion to a relationship, my running away....our love....
A postcard. Again. South Africa, Lammergeyer, Drakensberg. Thomas, my dear, dear beloved friend. Climbing red rocks. His unique laughter. Cuddled-through nights....a long good bye walk along the Rhein...sitting in a willow tree and sharing depths....with each other....he in berlin, helping me with my final installation.....being there, just there.,....and us both, realizing "what a good friend!" and nothing more...glad we found out....glad you are there.....you are important..you study environmental studies....ah.
The sunflower card, a photo of two breathtakingly beautiful girls. Ladies. L___ and S_____. too long a story, too good two friends to put into words. silence is golden, talking is piranha....
Two black rock'n'roll dancers. a secondshot, a moment captured forever. the joy carved in stone. Iljana knows how to choose the right postcard....
Two african warriors. Dignity, pride, humbleness all in one expression. Straightness. In the case it is a word. Beauty.
Iris was in Kamerun for a year but she knew alreayd years before how to make Pirnaha a beautiful birhtday card. because we share our love and interest for the world. And our care....
A little aborigine girl with blond hair from australia.
'to you'
the postcard says. my sister A. is from a fairy tale...
Pedro. As a kid. Eyes, so trustful and caring, and tender and full of anticipation. Tears in my nose. Oh Pedro. Oh pedro. I loved you so much and I guess I still do. Why did you let drugs ruin your body and soul and mind. Why did you let this happen. Why didn't you assume the responsibility for your life yourself....Why, why why????
My cousins and my sisters and my brother, back, way back when I was a kid, performing a little comedything for my granddads 69's birthday. My face radiating like a little nuclear bomb., such a joyful expression, so lively, so lovely, so adorable. I love my little enthusiastic, idealistic, initiative and daring piranha back then. oh and i miss her terribly. she knew waht she wanted, much to the contrary now......
Borbeth. sitting in Estonia in the middle of a field. A guitar next to her, bread that she just baked to her left, writing songs....she is one fine woman. one friend like you won't find many....
right the next photo is H. on the roof of the house we built in Estonia for the streetkids. His muscles playing with the sunlight.....I love them both so much and I am so happy they are now together....
Me and my sister in Munich doing acrobatics in front of a spring....just for five minutes, before hurrying to the train... :) aaah, beautiful days.....2004.......after a youthconference that filled us with courage to do something in this world.....
My dad and my two full sisters....and me....when I was maybe two yeras old.....what a picture....what a life......we were loved kids, thats for sure......
A collage that my boss of world vision made of photos of me and her. colour ful, snapshots. we loved each other, the time we wasted at our job. and she is from bolivia and studying law, as well. and maybe maybe i ll do that too....
Timo. And me. Black white. He is such a fragile angel. I am afraid I was to harsh with him. I wonder why he loves me so much. Maybe he even doesn't anymore... three days him visiting and we were behaving like an old couple.... :) tzntzn....
Three little boys in Soweto.....Julia, my courageous and daring friend, working for a year in an AIDS orphans home.
she is one human being that sparkles around so the rest of us can see....
--------
seeing all this, being reminded of all these wonderful people and moments in my life...and many more.....I realize that the most imporatant thing in life is really friendship.
And what you experience with them. sitting in front of a tv with a friend is not what I would choose for a lifetime...
but in the end it comes down to friendships again and again, and meeting beautiful human beings and being creative together.
And thats where I stop.
And see: I want to live up to MY standards. And the do NOT contain fame and money, even not for the so called right reasons. Of course you can do more and stuff when you have money and a name, but then again, I don't want to get this so badly that I would do anything for it. I don't.
I will do what I have to do but I always want to live up to my friends. our friendships. our love....
my face is sunburnt, my body worked out but I've looked into the abyss of grievance and saddness, desperation and deep emotional insecurity...nothing can really cover this feeling I have right now....
Best thing would be to sleep but I force myself to drag my tired body up again and do something. I feel guilty and most of all, like a stupid little fuck, a failure in the first place.
STOP!
Remind yourself that you freaking ARE yourself!
Remind yourself that you ARE NOT your sisters! None of them.
STOP!
You are okay, just make up your mind, quickly, to whose standars you want to live up to....
My heart feels heavy like concrete. Outside, in some of the others welfare housings somebody plays piano. My niece takes a shower. The fucking air conditioning never stops. This sound....In a couple of month I will probalby not hear it anymore....If I am still here then....
Slowly I flip through my stuff I brought along. A letter falls into my hands. I look at it. It is from 2001. From a guy who liked me and I didn't get it really. The one who instigated the idea in me to actually DO graffiti and not only talk about it. When I told him about the impact he had on my life he was very surprised. But this is the past.
A deep sigh.
Photos.
Tears dwell up in my eyes. Postcards.
Ah, such a wonderful thing. Postcards. Remind me of the past, of times I forgot, well, not forgot, but just wasn't aware of.
L___. My favorite cousin. Dreamy eyes, manly, in the nature....He taught me how to drive back in 1999, on dusty, dark roads in France....I was so excited, I was so young, so adventurous and full of ideals and ideas. Enthusiasm....I worshipped him...
He was the one who told me that he thinks that all the drugs he did seriously harmed him in a way that they prevented him from achieving what he could have achieved otherwise....the one who insisted on his claim that nobody needs to go through that shit in order to understand that....the one who affirmed my natural declination against drugs.....luckily....
Iljana. My first 'long distance' friendship. Still friends. Russia 1998. The whole tent with her stuff burnt down. We in the plains...writing poetry...feeling deeply, almost 15 years old....ahhh, so young, but we felt so alive. Acrobatics in the middle of nowhere.....singing 'winds of change', having plans, loving Joan Baez, Mercedes Sossa, Tango...and of course all about boys.... :)
The three postcards, which, held together, show the photo of a beautiful black guy, black white photography, three postcards from my dear friend Elissa who does not understand but loves my 'black soul'. That was during Abitur, our final year...we shared our sorrows and joys with each other...I was there when she was sick in her little room and cured her and she witnessed the whole fucked up story with Mr. Asshole. Being drunk in the little chalet at T.Berg, studying for the final English Exam....watching romantic, hopelessly romantic movies...Chris and my sister suddenly dropping by, attaching sleds to the VW van, sliding through the silent snowy village....
Sitting in the couch after the first big maths exam...drinking white wine, a pattern of sunlight and shadows woven into the air, painted on our faces....her jokes, our little fights, our being different and our love....her quitting cigarettes and me starting....her devotion to a relationship, my running away....our love....
A postcard. Again. South Africa, Lammergeyer, Drakensberg. Thomas, my dear, dear beloved friend. Climbing red rocks. His unique laughter. Cuddled-through nights....a long good bye walk along the Rhein...sitting in a willow tree and sharing depths....with each other....he in berlin, helping me with my final installation.....being there, just there.,....and us both, realizing "what a good friend!" and nothing more...glad we found out....glad you are there.....you are important..you study environmental studies....ah.
The sunflower card, a photo of two breathtakingly beautiful girls. Ladies. L___ and S_____. too long a story, too good two friends to put into words. silence is golden, talking is piranha....
Two black rock'n'roll dancers. a secondshot, a moment captured forever. the joy carved in stone. Iljana knows how to choose the right postcard....
Two african warriors. Dignity, pride, humbleness all in one expression. Straightness. In the case it is a word. Beauty.
Iris was in Kamerun for a year but she knew alreayd years before how to make Pirnaha a beautiful birhtday card. because we share our love and interest for the world. And our care....
A little aborigine girl with blond hair from australia.
'to you'
the postcard says. my sister A. is from a fairy tale...
Pedro. As a kid. Eyes, so trustful and caring, and tender and full of anticipation. Tears in my nose. Oh Pedro. Oh pedro. I loved you so much and I guess I still do. Why did you let drugs ruin your body and soul and mind. Why did you let this happen. Why didn't you assume the responsibility for your life yourself....Why, why why????
My cousins and my sisters and my brother, back, way back when I was a kid, performing a little comedything for my granddads 69's birthday. My face radiating like a little nuclear bomb., such a joyful expression, so lively, so lovely, so adorable. I love my little enthusiastic, idealistic, initiative and daring piranha back then. oh and i miss her terribly. she knew waht she wanted, much to the contrary now......
Borbeth. sitting in Estonia in the middle of a field. A guitar next to her, bread that she just baked to her left, writing songs....she is one fine woman. one friend like you won't find many....
right the next photo is H. on the roof of the house we built in Estonia for the streetkids. His muscles playing with the sunlight.....I love them both so much and I am so happy they are now together....
Me and my sister in Munich doing acrobatics in front of a spring....just for five minutes, before hurrying to the train... :) aaah, beautiful days.....2004.......after a youthconference that filled us with courage to do something in this world.....
My dad and my two full sisters....and me....when I was maybe two yeras old.....what a picture....what a life......we were loved kids, thats for sure......
A collage that my boss of world vision made of photos of me and her. colour ful, snapshots. we loved each other, the time we wasted at our job. and she is from bolivia and studying law, as well. and maybe maybe i ll do that too....
Timo. And me. Black white. He is such a fragile angel. I am afraid I was to harsh with him. I wonder why he loves me so much. Maybe he even doesn't anymore... three days him visiting and we were behaving like an old couple.... :) tzntzn....
Three little boys in Soweto.....Julia, my courageous and daring friend, working for a year in an AIDS orphans home.
she is one human being that sparkles around so the rest of us can see....
--------
seeing all this, being reminded of all these wonderful people and moments in my life...and many more.....I realize that the most imporatant thing in life is really friendship.
And what you experience with them. sitting in front of a tv with a friend is not what I would choose for a lifetime...
but in the end it comes down to friendships again and again, and meeting beautiful human beings and being creative together.
And thats where I stop.
And see: I want to live up to MY standards. And the do NOT contain fame and money, even not for the so called right reasons. Of course you can do more and stuff when you have money and a name, but then again, I don't want to get this so badly that I would do anything for it. I don't.
I will do what I have to do but I always want to live up to my friends. our friendships. our love....
dark moon #3
okay lets make it this time really short and sweet. this here is really an issue that sorta makes me feel so wretched and itchy inside...dunno....
okay, lets face it, b, j, i've read somethings in your diaries. i feel like such a pathetic friend and stupid about it, but to defend myself i have to say that i was desperate back then and really felt like i don't know what is going on in your life and you were so far away and for a best friend it is very difficult to endure such a long period of thirsty deserts to cross without any idea whether or not there will ever be an oasis....
and i've read the diary of my sister, i admit it, i was really furious and ran away and happened to wear her jacket and it was a nice feeling of revenge to read that book in her pocket....:)
oh and once i read the diary of my brother, and now that happened to be funny, because I just looked at one page and it was exactly the page I saw my name mentioned at, and now, who wouldn't be curious as to find out what ones brother writes about oneself in a DIARY?
guess what, he mentioned my name because he admitted in HIS diary, that he just had read MY diary! hahaha.
I still laugh about that....
It's like running into your sister in the changing room at the school gym and being angry because she wears your sportsbra and then realizing that you do the same.....i mean, wearing HERS too@!!!! (that actually happened to a friend of mine)
so thats a really bad thing, i sorta see that....privacy is something that should be taken seriously. and i didn't in those cases and I am sorry. But, and thats probably the worst part, I didn't feel bad about it when I did it. Not really...
okay, lets face it, b, j, i've read somethings in your diaries. i feel like such a pathetic friend and stupid about it, but to defend myself i have to say that i was desperate back then and really felt like i don't know what is going on in your life and you were so far away and for a best friend it is very difficult to endure such a long period of thirsty deserts to cross without any idea whether or not there will ever be an oasis....
and i've read the diary of my sister, i admit it, i was really furious and ran away and happened to wear her jacket and it was a nice feeling of revenge to read that book in her pocket....:)
oh and once i read the diary of my brother, and now that happened to be funny, because I just looked at one page and it was exactly the page I saw my name mentioned at, and now, who wouldn't be curious as to find out what ones brother writes about oneself in a DIARY?
guess what, he mentioned my name because he admitted in HIS diary, that he just had read MY diary! hahaha.
I still laugh about that....
It's like running into your sister in the changing room at the school gym and being angry because she wears your sportsbra and then realizing that you do the same.....i mean, wearing HERS too@!!!! (that actually happened to a friend of mine)
so thats a really bad thing, i sorta see that....privacy is something that should be taken seriously. and i didn't in those cases and I am sorry. But, and thats probably the worst part, I didn't feel bad about it when I did it. Not really...
Thursday, October 06, 2005
dark moon #2
i know most of the bloggers who read this are american. and i figured out quite quickly, that sexual matters are not handled here in the same way as back home. funny, considering how the whole sex selling thing seems to come from the very place i am at right now...hollywood....but i guess i am an ignorant ahm, motherfucker (would you use that in that situation? sorry bout the choice of words, i am not a native speaker....) about that, because i guess i am wrong, but at least thats what stuck in my head which already speaks for itself, because i am sure there are many many more who think the same way....so at least it s an illusion we all like to believe over there in ol'europe. the old world.... ;-)
so, having introduced my second confession like this i guess all of you know now that i am actually going to talk about sexual issues. and not in a way that would be probably appropriate to speak about in public here. on blogs, yeah, and all that shadow places you have to store your perversions to, but not on the street i guess...people were surprised about how openly i talk about sex and hell, it raises a lot of problems, because everybody thinks then, that i am an easy girl because of that. i am not, damn, i am easy to talk about it. but thats another topic...so back to this....
ahh, thats painful, it s already a little further beyond my surface i like to scratch on...(and you know what, i also found it very astounding how little scratching on my surface is needed to make me oh so freakin interesting and amazing over here. oh, gosh, i had a guy falling in love with me so desperately and what not, i changed his life, dammit, and i don't want to joke about it because thats of course a serious matter and i respect his feelings, but the conversation we had was great, GREAT! but it wasn't something, ahm, new or lets say, rare for me, cuz I can have this type of connection and conversation with ALL my friends over there! and it didn't change my life, sorry, but thats not a reason for me to think you are THE man for me, ya know? i was happy I met him, cuz thats what i was starving for...a meaningful, exciting conversation, but i was starving for it, because i was missing it from back home! not from my entire life.....)
okay, back to my original intention. the sex issue. it s short and sweet and nothing really wrong with it, but it s definitely something i don't talk about ever, and hide it well beneath my carpet....and remember, i wanted to take it slow....the dragging out of the dark things so they could die. and what i want to die about this thing is not the fact for itself, the doing, ya know, but the feelings i have about it...and the am, invisibility i added to it.
curious? haha. well, see, writing this i just figured that maybe sexual issues are for A REASON private and in the dark. cuz it s none of your business at all.
ah, anyways, poof. i just gonna write about it and be happy that i did it once and i actually wrote something about it in my very first posts but bla, see i am trying to change the subject..prolong the moment i am going to confess.to whom? why so?
don't know. i guess i find out...
and as i am someone who learns and knows things by trying them out (as opposed to a very good friend who actually sticks to his principals and convictions he figured out in his head...i can't do that. i need to KNOW with my hands...haha, here we go, thats a good introduction....
so okay, allright, i am only 22 years old, you might all laugh about me already, especially you guys...but for women it s different. it s more of a taboo to speak about masturbating.
so somewhen it started and bla, and there were times i needed it really badly. and i just thought what bad stuff i could write down here, embarrassing moments, stuff i hate and so on, and for sure the embarrassing bit is to think about where i masturbated already.
man, i think i really have issues with sex in general. arg, that sucks. man, man...oha. so, i admit i had cybersex. and its just so way beyond anything i ve ever thought i d do and like you know, i am just not that typa person. i am a real person, cs is just so fucked up stupid. but i did. poor guy, he probably even didn't get hard by the time i came already. it s just that phantasies and imagination can do so much to me. they get me really far, further than with many a time i had real sex.
allright.
okay, one thing that is probably sick in a way is that i even masturbated one day i a public restroom in a restaurant. matter of fact, i started touching myself while sitting at the table. there were hardly any people around and the waiter couldn't hopefully see what i was doing, cuz of the shape of the table and my bag and what not.
when i think of it now it s all so sick. but then, in the moment i was going for it it was exciting and i didn't have one second thought about it. i just wanted to do it. so there we go.
i also did it in a train while the people in my cabin were sleeping. oh my god. *blush* i seriously hope nobody who knows me really, except for you mira, reads this. fuck. thats sorta stupid. aaah,, i literally feel pain of embarrassment in my body right now. it aches somewhere above my chest and somewhere in my throat. o lord. stupid.
okay, but who is going to tell me that this is perfectly allright? ya all do it? am i sick? stupid? okay? i don't know. maybe i even do't wanna know and nobody wanna tell me, cuz again, it s a private thing and nobody else;s business.
all in all i had a lot of hot sex with myself. the phantasies are just running wild then. and in the end of the day, when you are longing for love you feel stupid. and sad. because, one day i figured that the good feeling that comes after it is the same feeling i get out of doing a lot of sports. the very same thing. and making love adds something deeper to it, and you can't anymore compare it to sports. thats what i think after all
also, i don't get tired but actually a lot fitter afterwards. there is the climax and ten or twelve seconds later i can jump up and get going. and totally not understand why i needed to do it, and why i wanted it, and hell, when i think of my phantasies then, they seem fucking weird and senseless to me. thats it. the loving, enthusiastic, life embracing piranha has strange issues. nobody to love really, i mean for a relationship, no deep romantic loving, but stupidly getting friendly with her hands...
*sigh*
and, remember, thats only one step deeper than the surface. i am freaking paranoid about thinking about the rest.(no, not only sexual matters, dude, don't let YOUR phantasy go wild now!!! its ugly, i say, UGLY!)
piranha
so, having introduced my second confession like this i guess all of you know now that i am actually going to talk about sexual issues. and not in a way that would be probably appropriate to speak about in public here. on blogs, yeah, and all that shadow places you have to store your perversions to, but not on the street i guess...people were surprised about how openly i talk about sex and hell, it raises a lot of problems, because everybody thinks then, that i am an easy girl because of that. i am not, damn, i am easy to talk about it. but thats another topic...so back to this....
ahh, thats painful, it s already a little further beyond my surface i like to scratch on...(and you know what, i also found it very astounding how little scratching on my surface is needed to make me oh so freakin interesting and amazing over here. oh, gosh, i had a guy falling in love with me so desperately and what not, i changed his life, dammit, and i don't want to joke about it because thats of course a serious matter and i respect his feelings, but the conversation we had was great, GREAT! but it wasn't something, ahm, new or lets say, rare for me, cuz I can have this type of connection and conversation with ALL my friends over there! and it didn't change my life, sorry, but thats not a reason for me to think you are THE man for me, ya know? i was happy I met him, cuz thats what i was starving for...a meaningful, exciting conversation, but i was starving for it, because i was missing it from back home! not from my entire life.....)
okay, back to my original intention. the sex issue. it s short and sweet and nothing really wrong with it, but it s definitely something i don't talk about ever, and hide it well beneath my carpet....and remember, i wanted to take it slow....the dragging out of the dark things so they could die. and what i want to die about this thing is not the fact for itself, the doing, ya know, but the feelings i have about it...and the am, invisibility i added to it.
curious? haha. well, see, writing this i just figured that maybe sexual issues are for A REASON private and in the dark. cuz it s none of your business at all.
ah, anyways, poof. i just gonna write about it and be happy that i did it once and i actually wrote something about it in my very first posts but bla, see i am trying to change the subject..prolong the moment i am going to confess.to whom? why so?
don't know. i guess i find out...
and as i am someone who learns and knows things by trying them out (as opposed to a very good friend who actually sticks to his principals and convictions he figured out in his head...i can't do that. i need to KNOW with my hands...haha, here we go, thats a good introduction....
so okay, allright, i am only 22 years old, you might all laugh about me already, especially you guys...but for women it s different. it s more of a taboo to speak about masturbating.
so somewhen it started and bla, and there were times i needed it really badly. and i just thought what bad stuff i could write down here, embarrassing moments, stuff i hate and so on, and for sure the embarrassing bit is to think about where i masturbated already.
man, i think i really have issues with sex in general. arg, that sucks. man, man...oha. so, i admit i had cybersex. and its just so way beyond anything i ve ever thought i d do and like you know, i am just not that typa person. i am a real person, cs is just so fucked up stupid. but i did. poor guy, he probably even didn't get hard by the time i came already. it s just that phantasies and imagination can do so much to me. they get me really far, further than with many a time i had real sex.
allright.
okay, one thing that is probably sick in a way is that i even masturbated one day i a public restroom in a restaurant. matter of fact, i started touching myself while sitting at the table. there were hardly any people around and the waiter couldn't hopefully see what i was doing, cuz of the shape of the table and my bag and what not.
when i think of it now it s all so sick. but then, in the moment i was going for it it was exciting and i didn't have one second thought about it. i just wanted to do it. so there we go.
i also did it in a train while the people in my cabin were sleeping. oh my god. *blush* i seriously hope nobody who knows me really, except for you mira, reads this. fuck. thats sorta stupid. aaah,, i literally feel pain of embarrassment in my body right now. it aches somewhere above my chest and somewhere in my throat. o lord. stupid.
okay, but who is going to tell me that this is perfectly allright? ya all do it? am i sick? stupid? okay? i don't know. maybe i even do't wanna know and nobody wanna tell me, cuz again, it s a private thing and nobody else;s business.
all in all i had a lot of hot sex with myself. the phantasies are just running wild then. and in the end of the day, when you are longing for love you feel stupid. and sad. because, one day i figured that the good feeling that comes after it is the same feeling i get out of doing a lot of sports. the very same thing. and making love adds something deeper to it, and you can't anymore compare it to sports. thats what i think after all
also, i don't get tired but actually a lot fitter afterwards. there is the climax and ten or twelve seconds later i can jump up and get going. and totally not understand why i needed to do it, and why i wanted it, and hell, when i think of my phantasies then, they seem fucking weird and senseless to me. thats it. the loving, enthusiastic, life embracing piranha has strange issues. nobody to love really, i mean for a relationship, no deep romantic loving, but stupidly getting friendly with her hands...
*sigh*
and, remember, thats only one step deeper than the surface. i am freaking paranoid about thinking about the rest.(no, not only sexual matters, dude, don't let YOUR phantasy go wild now!!! its ugly, i say, UGLY!)
piranha
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
here comes the moon, lalalala, it s allright, we all got issues (humm this in your head to the melody of 'here comes the sun by the beatles, will you!
so okay, i made my mind up. I will try to let the dark sides die a little, as amadeo pointed out that might happen if i dragged them into the light. here we go. (but slow!)
where should i start? damn. thats difficult.
what was i talking about? my fears?
fears....
oh, no, lets start with the embarrassing things I recognized about me.
For example, when I was in Germany and would have those 'getting to know you' conversations with someone, especially with someone from America, I would always (although I always told myself I wouldn't) mention at some point that my cousin is a famous popsinger in the States. Always. And yeah, it does not coincide with my actual convictions of how i wanna be and what is important to me. I would always mention it.
That'd be allright in itself, but the embarrassing bit is, that I would always also say "you know, in America I wouldn't be able to say that because I would immediately cease to be Piranha but merely and only 'her cousin'. YOu know....I don't really care about that, I mean, it's not my fault or my doing that she became famous and she is also like 8 years or so older....but here in Europe thats okay to mention..'
I had people from America call their friends in the states saying "you won't believe it but I am actually hanging out right now with * *'s cousin!"
And yes, it made me more interesting and special to many of them and it annoys the fuck out of me to think that I was so stupid. That I used it for me. Because thats in the end what I did, maybe not all of it, but certainly part of the motivation to mention it.
Argh.
You know, it s this disgusting mix of behaving cool and laid back ('i don't care, really!" uh) and I am not really like that. It's all about attracting people. But then again, its interesting, for them too, so it's a two sided issue, as always probably. But it annoys me nevertheless.
after having confessed that I can go to my next class....'owning and operating a music business' - should be fun. I like figures and business plans *chuckle*
don't think that this is it...it s really only one embarrassing thing I found about myself and it s probably pretty much close to the surface still.....
love to ya all out there.
the blushed and gnawing piranha
where should i start? damn. thats difficult.
what was i talking about? my fears?
fears....
oh, no, lets start with the embarrassing things I recognized about me.
For example, when I was in Germany and would have those 'getting to know you' conversations with someone, especially with someone from America, I would always (although I always told myself I wouldn't) mention at some point that my cousin is a famous popsinger in the States. Always. And yeah, it does not coincide with my actual convictions of how i wanna be and what is important to me. I would always mention it.
That'd be allright in itself, but the embarrassing bit is, that I would always also say "you know, in America I wouldn't be able to say that because I would immediately cease to be Piranha but merely and only 'her cousin'. YOu know....I don't really care about that, I mean, it's not my fault or my doing that she became famous and she is also like 8 years or so older....but here in Europe thats okay to mention..'
I had people from America call their friends in the states saying "you won't believe it but I am actually hanging out right now with * *'s cousin!"
And yes, it made me more interesting and special to many of them and it annoys the fuck out of me to think that I was so stupid. That I used it for me. Because thats in the end what I did, maybe not all of it, but certainly part of the motivation to mention it.
Argh.
You know, it s this disgusting mix of behaving cool and laid back ('i don't care, really!" uh) and I am not really like that. It's all about attracting people. But then again, its interesting, for them too, so it's a two sided issue, as always probably. But it annoys me nevertheless.
after having confessed that I can go to my next class....'owning and operating a music business' - should be fun. I like figures and business plans *chuckle*
don't think that this is it...it s really only one embarrassing thing I found about myself and it s probably pretty much close to the surface still.....
love to ya all out there.
the blushed and gnawing piranha
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
where is the dark side of my moon
where is the dark side of my moon?
long ago I was convinced of being honest with myself.
about everything.
my dark sides.
and now, i sit here, looking around, realizing that the shatters of my dreams are only rusty masks which desperately try to get hold of what I have lost.
the dark side of my moon, buried, deep deep somewhere in the future to b dealt with.
Courage, wrote a friend just today, is not the absence of fear but the knowledge and acknowledging of your fears.
your innermost fears.
i know we all deal with issues. but i am worried about my being fake here after all. of course i try to be honest and straight and all that but then again, it is not the question how honest i am but what i address. i am scratching only on the surface of things except for when it comes down to heartfelt loveletters that all commenting bloggers here agreed on being splendid and moving. I am hiding away from my real issues, my real dark sides, and I just realized that I even cannot address them properly in my private journal.
At first I thought it has to do that this is sort of not as private as a journal but no, even not there i can deal with it.
But maybe, maybe, the dark sides are not supposed to be ever dragged into the light.......
long ago I was convinced of being honest with myself.
about everything.
my dark sides.
and now, i sit here, looking around, realizing that the shatters of my dreams are only rusty masks which desperately try to get hold of what I have lost.
the dark side of my moon, buried, deep deep somewhere in the future to b dealt with.
Courage, wrote a friend just today, is not the absence of fear but the knowledge and acknowledging of your fears.
your innermost fears.
i know we all deal with issues. but i am worried about my being fake here after all. of course i try to be honest and straight and all that but then again, it is not the question how honest i am but what i address. i am scratching only on the surface of things except for when it comes down to heartfelt loveletters that all commenting bloggers here agreed on being splendid and moving. I am hiding away from my real issues, my real dark sides, and I just realized that I even cannot address them properly in my private journal.
At first I thought it has to do that this is sort of not as private as a journal but no, even not there i can deal with it.
But maybe, maybe, the dark sides are not supposed to be ever dragged into the light.......
Sunday, October 02, 2005
laundromat
it s SO BORING
she sits on the table, stars in the shattered fragments of her mind and tries to recollect all that happened.
the red window. a gay club. music, that reminder her of her beloved, oh so beloved Berlin, of friends far far away and nights drunken full of crazyness, raving lunatics, a world of its own.
her sister finally unwinding, her playing gay with her sisters best friend and drinking too much mojito.
clubs CLOSE AT ONE OR TWO O CLOCK in los angeles.
she shakes her head in disbelief. the laundry machine weaves rythms into the air. it smells like clean laundry around her and people minding their own business...
AT ONE O CLOCK. now what is that? she tries to think back. once or twice it happened in Berlin that she went out BEFORE ONE O CLOCK. and party ends at noon. or the next day, or evening or at sunrise, but boy, not in the middle of the night, just when people get started!
the beautiful lesbian ehtiopian and kenian women. ah. a cigar. John. sexy motherfucker...
the latino with whom she danced.....a little cheeky smile appears on her face, lits her mind up, fragments all over the place....
sigh.
he said: ah, sexy mami, you and I know how to dance, do we!
she twirls around in her head, 'yes, yes, i do know, and I love it, I was so happy as i haven't been in a very long time! I was thrilled! I guess people must have assumed I am on drugs but i wasn't! I am a natural xtasy wonder! ah, dancing,,....
- the partylife is a side of me that I couldn't possibly think of as a kid. I was totally emerged into nature and the world as a place of trouble, destruction, fear, sadness and hidden treasures.
but simply having fun like that, nah. it took me a little while....'
she pulls out her laundry, tired, her body aches.
the massage. being puzzled about how much she actually could enjoy GIVING a massage...his sighs, moans...her smile, tender energy, the soft feeling of balancing between sexual and therapeutical energy. aaah. his hands...
the machine stops suddenly. the ondragging minutes all evaporated in thin thoughts.....fragments only but disturbing in a sweet way...
his hands...
she folds the clothes together, stuffs them in her bagpack, and angrily carries it to the car.
a convertible mercedes, a wonderful smooth running car. ah.
she throws the bag in the back. ha.
his hands.
and why in the fuck, can't i take it no more?
sense of adventure?
lack of love?
come on.
in the rearview she sees the red flashing sign 'laundromat' disappear in a warm breeze of californian night.
come on.
the automatic....car.....in europe...we have mostly nonautomatic cars...his hands...ah he so beautiful...but still.....i think automatic cars are after all kinda practical.....max' mercedes in berlin......art......installations....his hands...why in the freaking fuck can't i take it no more?
fragments only.
embarassment.
relief of having just escaped a way bigger embarassment.
gosh, i ll have to see this guy many times. he is a friend. don't mess with friends...
his hands...
lips...
and she turns around, driving back to the laundromat where she forgot something important...
her mind, lost in a puzzle.
why, oh why, can't i just let go and take advantage of these beautiful opportunities?
is it, that my love to david sort of conditioned me now in a way that i can't accept making love no more, when there is no love?
ah, paradoxical. fragmental. fear. i am scared. i don't want to be this way. i want to enjoy, simply enjoy.
i don't want to be spun around again and again, like in one of those laundry machines.
no ways.
i don't want to
so what, what shall i do?
she sits on the table, stars in the shattered fragments of her mind and tries to recollect all that happened.
the red window. a gay club. music, that reminder her of her beloved, oh so beloved Berlin, of friends far far away and nights drunken full of crazyness, raving lunatics, a world of its own.
her sister finally unwinding, her playing gay with her sisters best friend and drinking too much mojito.
clubs CLOSE AT ONE OR TWO O CLOCK in los angeles.
she shakes her head in disbelief. the laundry machine weaves rythms into the air. it smells like clean laundry around her and people minding their own business...
AT ONE O CLOCK. now what is that? she tries to think back. once or twice it happened in Berlin that she went out BEFORE ONE O CLOCK. and party ends at noon. or the next day, or evening or at sunrise, but boy, not in the middle of the night, just when people get started!
the beautiful lesbian ehtiopian and kenian women. ah. a cigar. John. sexy motherfucker...
the latino with whom she danced.....a little cheeky smile appears on her face, lits her mind up, fragments all over the place....
sigh.
he said: ah, sexy mami, you and I know how to dance, do we!
she twirls around in her head, 'yes, yes, i do know, and I love it, I was so happy as i haven't been in a very long time! I was thrilled! I guess people must have assumed I am on drugs but i wasn't! I am a natural xtasy wonder! ah, dancing,,....
- the partylife is a side of me that I couldn't possibly think of as a kid. I was totally emerged into nature and the world as a place of trouble, destruction, fear, sadness and hidden treasures.
but simply having fun like that, nah. it took me a little while....'
she pulls out her laundry, tired, her body aches.
the massage. being puzzled about how much she actually could enjoy GIVING a massage...his sighs, moans...her smile, tender energy, the soft feeling of balancing between sexual and therapeutical energy. aaah. his hands...
the machine stops suddenly. the ondragging minutes all evaporated in thin thoughts.....fragments only but disturbing in a sweet way...
his hands...
she folds the clothes together, stuffs them in her bagpack, and angrily carries it to the car.
a convertible mercedes, a wonderful smooth running car. ah.
she throws the bag in the back. ha.
his hands.
and why in the fuck, can't i take it no more?
sense of adventure?
lack of love?
come on.
in the rearview she sees the red flashing sign 'laundromat' disappear in a warm breeze of californian night.
come on.
the automatic....car.....in europe...we have mostly nonautomatic cars...his hands...ah he so beautiful...but still.....i think automatic cars are after all kinda practical.....max' mercedes in berlin......art......installations....his hands...why in the freaking fuck can't i take it no more?
fragments only.
embarassment.
relief of having just escaped a way bigger embarassment.
gosh, i ll have to see this guy many times. he is a friend. don't mess with friends...
his hands...
lips...
and she turns around, driving back to the laundromat where she forgot something important...
her mind, lost in a puzzle.
why, oh why, can't i just let go and take advantage of these beautiful opportunities?
is it, that my love to david sort of conditioned me now in a way that i can't accept making love no more, when there is no love?
ah, paradoxical. fragmental. fear. i am scared. i don't want to be this way. i want to enjoy, simply enjoy.
i don't want to be spun around again and again, like in one of those laundry machines.
no ways.
i don't want to
so what, what shall i do?
laundromat
it s SO BORING
she sits on the table, stars in the shattered fragments of her mind and tries to recollect all that happened.
the red window. a gay club. music, that reminder her of her beloved, oh so beloved Berlin, of friends far far away and nights drunken full of crazyness, raving lunatics, a world of its own.
her sister finally unwinding, her playing gay with her sisters best friend and drinking too much mojito.
clubs CLOSE AT ONE OR TWO O CLOCK in los angeles.
she shakes her head in disbelief. the laundry machine weaves rythms into the air. it smells like clean laundry around her and people minding their own business...
AT ONE O CLOCK. now what is that? she tries to think back. once or twice it happened in Berlin that she went out BEFORE ONE O CLOCK. and party ends at noon. or the next day, or evening or at sunrise, but boy, not in the middle of the night, just when people get started!
the beautiful lesbian ehtiopian and kenian women. ah. a cigar. John. sexy motherfucker...
the latino with whom she danced.....a little cheeky smile appears on her face, lits her mind up, fragments all over the place....
sigh.
he said: ah, sexy mami, you and I know how to dance, do we!
she twirls around in her head, 'yes, yes, i do know, and I love it, I was so happy as i haven't been in a very long time! I was thrilled! I guess people must have assumed I am on drugs but i wasn't! I am a natural xtasy wonder! ah, dancing,,....
- the partylife is a side of me that I couldn't possibly think of as a kid. I was totally emerged into nature and the world as a place of trouble, destruction, fear, sadness and hidden treasures.
but simply having fun like that, nah. it took me a little while....'
she pulls out her laundry, tired, her body aches.
the massage. being puzzled about how much she actually could enjoy GIVING a massage...his sighs, moans...her smile, tender energy, the soft feeling of balancing between sexual and therapeutical energy. aaah. his hands...
the machine stops suddenly. the ondragging minutes all evaporated in thin thoughts.....fragments only but disturbing in a sweet way...
his hands...
she folds the clothes together, stuffs them in her bagpack, and angrily carries it to the car.
a convertible mercedes, a wonderful smooth running car. ah.
she throws the bag in the back. ha.
his hands.
and why in the fuck, can't i take it no more?
sense of adventure?
lack of love?
come on.
in the rearview she sees the red flashing sign 'laundromat' disappear in a warm breeze of californian night.
come on.
the automatic....car.....in europe...we have mostly nonautomatic cars...his hands...ah he so beautiful...but still.....i think automatic cars are after all kinda practical.....max' mercedes in berlin......art......installations....his hands...why in the freaking fuck can't i take it no more?
fragments only.
embarassment.
relief of having just escaped a way bigger embarassment.
gosh, i ll have to see this guy many times. he is a friend. don't mess with friends...
his hands...
lips...
and she turns around, driving back to the laundromat where she forgot something important...
her mind, lost in a puzzle.
why, oh why, can't i just let go and take advantage of these beautiful opportunities?
is it, that my love to david sort of conditioned me now in a way that i can't accept making love no more, when there is no love?
ah, paradoxical. fragmental. fear. i am scared. i don't want to be this way. i want to enjoy, simply enjoy.
i don't want to be spun around again and again, like in one of those laundry machines.
no ways.
i don't want to
so what, what shall i do?
she sits on the table, stars in the shattered fragments of her mind and tries to recollect all that happened.
the red window. a gay club. music, that reminder her of her beloved, oh so beloved Berlin, of friends far far away and nights drunken full of crazyness, raving lunatics, a world of its own.
her sister finally unwinding, her playing gay with her sisters best friend and drinking too much mojito.
clubs CLOSE AT ONE OR TWO O CLOCK in los angeles.
she shakes her head in disbelief. the laundry machine weaves rythms into the air. it smells like clean laundry around her and people minding their own business...
AT ONE O CLOCK. now what is that? she tries to think back. once or twice it happened in Berlin that she went out BEFORE ONE O CLOCK. and party ends at noon. or the next day, or evening or at sunrise, but boy, not in the middle of the night, just when people get started!
the beautiful lesbian ehtiopian and kenian women. ah. a cigar. John. sexy motherfucker...
the latino with whom she danced.....a little cheeky smile appears on her face, lits her mind up, fragments all over the place....
sigh.
he said: ah, sexy mami, you and I know how to dance, do we!
she twirls around in her head, 'yes, yes, i do know, and I love it, I was so happy as i haven't been in a very long time! I was thrilled! I guess people must have assumed I am on drugs but i wasn't! I am a natural xtasy wonder! ah, dancing,,....
- the partylife is a side of me that I couldn't possibly think of as a kid. I was totally emerged into nature and the world as a place of trouble, destruction, fear, sadness and hidden treasures.
but simply having fun like that, nah. it took me a little while....'
she pulls out her laundry, tired, her body aches.
the massage. being puzzled about how much she actually could enjoy GIVING a massage...his sighs, moans...her smile, tender energy, the soft feeling of balancing between sexual and therapeutical energy. aaah. his hands...
the machine stops suddenly. the ondragging minutes all evaporated in thin thoughts.....fragments only but disturbing in a sweet way...
his hands...
she folds the clothes together, stuffs them in her bagpack, and angrily carries it to the car.
a convertible mercedes, a wonderful smooth running car. ah.
she throws the bag in the back. ha.
his hands.
and why in the fuck, can't i take it no more?
sense of adventure?
lack of love?
come on.
in the rearview she sees the red flashing sign 'laundromat' disappear in a warm breeze of californian night.
come on.
the automatic....car.....in europe...we have mostly nonautomatic cars...his hands...ah he so beautiful...but still.....i think automatic cars are after all kinda practical.....max' mercedes in berlin......art......installations....his hands...why in the freaking fuck can't i take it no more?
fragments only.
embarassment.
relief of having just escaped a way bigger embarassment.
gosh, i ll have to see this guy many times. he is a friend. don't mess with friends...
his hands...
lips...
and she turns around, driving back to the laundromat where she forgot something important...
her mind, lost in a puzzle.
why, oh why, can't i just let go and take advantage of these beautiful opportunities?
is it, that my love to david sort of conditioned me now in a way that i can't accept making love no more, when there is no love?
ah, paradoxical. fragmental. fear. i am scared. i don't want to be this way. i want to enjoy, simply enjoy.
i don't want to be spun around again and again, like in one of those laundry machines.
no ways.
i don't want to
so what, what shall i do?
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