everybody wants to get stoned

i've spent the whole day type writing the script of my artist and piscies soul mate which he'll maybe call
'I'am Bob Dylan'......
and now i sit in a candle lit hippieske warm appartment. in the appartment of the girl the whole movie will be about. it's basically her life story and boy, am i stoned right now. i think i am a 'one hit wonder'. I took one hit and i am so fucking stoned right now. the appartment seems to turn upside down, clockwise. i here the clicks of davids camera as he takes photos of her in her kitchen, the internetradio talks and they do to and the candles twinkle dinkel hehe.
very nice movies and ....says the reporter. a curtain with bellies, just about half fast midnight cool lets drive in the middle of it going through moonday. supposrt. doldaodal alles alles leute sagen alles. single. stay close/ take pictures of me, jsut doing myself.
okay enough of that snapshotting, retracing of reality. lets forget the ipod they are advising for. how esxhausting. so many noises. i never had a conversation with my father. shrieky laughter.
thats the title of the movie, thats what she just said
my fingers clumsy, the guitar rhtymic the cello tensened, oh and i have a very dry mough. mouth. i turn around and see myself in the mirror. gosh, these eyes. glasy. just as those eyes i have seen and hated so much back in the years. when i used to love pedro. or the love used me to pedro. or pedro used love to me. or against me? hm. pot oh pot was the reason then. and talking - that still works. it s just like 'hey, why don't they realize that i am so fucking stoned? so fucking bob dylan?
it s totally weird, really. my head feels like, yeah it feels like it is filled half way with water and this water swaps up and down in it. i don't see very clearly. like with from the back of my eyes. and my blood pumps in my neck. and my forehead is so presentand the back of my head too and i smell hash. or is it marihuana? or is that the same anyways?
lalala. god. okay, thats embarrassing i guess i just stop here

maybe i should just try to jam so i know what it s like to jam stoned. like, how they taught him to jam. and he promised me not to somke pot again. and there we go i just got myself stoned. so who are we to blame, to point, to complain? to shame? blame fame game?

i say we are god forsaken
or maybe just a little bit forbaden
gaden maden saden. laden baden maden raden faden gaden laden laden laden.

strange huh?

alalalalalala

perspective is so different and so much the urge to speak german after all. yah. ohhhh and i want to love and eat and love. love love.