In a way it helped me to work with loaded people. I learned to deal with it. And also, I learned to allow myself to indulge, a concept that had me guilt-ridden all along.
But, today, I read in a magazine (that I usually enjoy to read) these short interviews with people in Berlin about what they just had bought and why.
It didn't occur to me, that you don't have to be THAT loaded in order to actually buy relatively expensive clothing. Or key-chains for that matter.
A designer KEY-chain (a KEY chain!) for 81 Euros. The guy said style was important to him.
Good Lord, gracious, where do these people have that kind of money from?
How do they come to spend it that particular way?
A watch for 3600 Euros? The lady interviewed stated she didn't need a watch in particular but she really liked that one so she bought it.
SO SHE JUST BOUGHT IT.
I also just bought a nutbun today, for 1,50 Euros and one beer for 1 Euro. I mention this because it was awkward how I justified that towards myself and my friend. I said, well, I could have had a Falafel with that money, and it would have been dinner right there. But I indulged.
They fired a lady from a supermarket chain here because she took two refund tickets for deposit bottles (in the worth of about 1,30 Euros) that some customer had lost and took it for herself.
She is a mother of three with two grandchildren and had worked there for 31 years.
Her colleagues told on her.
The whole thing was taken to a higher court and today the result came out. Guilty. She can't sue that supermarket chain for firing her.
Because, if you take 1,30, 5 or 100 Euros isn't the point here. It's that you take it.
So I guess indulging in a 1,50 bun with literally no money really is just as bad and irrational as spending 3600 Euros on a watch.
I really just can't get over it.
They looked like NORMAL people. I guess I am really not normal then!
I must be really poor and broke, in fact!
It must be good for the economy also, but I wonder if there is anyone out there who has thought the thought to its very end. Does the economy really have to always grow? Isn't there some sort of way out???
It's like cancer almost.
I am really at a loss
to know
right
from
wrong
Thursday, February 26, 2009
broke again
the new month even hasn't started yet and all the money i have for it is gone already for rent, insurance and phonebills.
great! i guess it will be the time of the year to do a 'religious' fasting ritual. I think in Christian tradition there is a fasting time from carneval time (RIGHT NOW!) until eastern. That's EXACTLY the period of time I've got to bridge to get by. I'll have some money to buy food from my assistant job, so I'll manage hopefully. With God on my side :)
Note to self: don't buy handwoven baskets in second-hand shops, don't buy food when you're out and about, don't buy, ahem, yeah, food. and no partying, but it's not like I've partied at all lately. I've been just invited to all these events. Gee. ;0)
It's also time and take a chance to start getting fit and lean and more disciplined! no more indulgent desserts in our house! hm. maybe only here and there?
:)
great! i guess it will be the time of the year to do a 'religious' fasting ritual. I think in Christian tradition there is a fasting time from carneval time (RIGHT NOW!) until eastern. That's EXACTLY the period of time I've got to bridge to get by. I'll have some money to buy food from my assistant job, so I'll manage hopefully. With God on my side :)
Note to self: don't buy handwoven baskets in second-hand shops, don't buy food when you're out and about, don't buy, ahem, yeah, food. and no partying, but it's not like I've partied at all lately. I've been just invited to all these events. Gee. ;0)
It's also time and take a chance to start getting fit and lean and more disciplined! no more indulgent desserts in our house! hm. maybe only here and there?
:)
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
hard not to
hard not to write.
her hand on his legs, barcadi bottle. soap and skin singing like a dying swan, you in my arms, my touching your soul, how it felt, how it felt, when we were.
dreams buried, in shatters and fragments. she is fucking good. damn.
he spit his venom into all directions, i asked the wrong question and suddenly i was no friend no more.
there are people who can't take a wrong step. who can't take a wrong word. who can't take a wrong question.
we are so frail and fragile against these towering walls.
we have to learn to be upset. outraged. outspoken.
it hurts. it hurts when your actions are counted like pennies and intentions don't matter at
all
some friends we just have to let go
like lovers
maybe i really just wanted
to get something out of it
her hand on his legs, barcadi bottle. soap and skin singing like a dying swan, you in my arms, my touching your soul, how it felt, how it felt, when we were.
dreams buried, in shatters and fragments. she is fucking good. damn.
he spit his venom into all directions, i asked the wrong question and suddenly i was no friend no more.
there are people who can't take a wrong step. who can't take a wrong word. who can't take a wrong question.
we are so frail and fragile against these towering walls.
we have to learn to be upset. outraged. outspoken.
it hurts. it hurts when your actions are counted like pennies and intentions don't matter at
all
some friends we just have to let go
like lovers
maybe i really just wanted
to get something out of it
Monday, February 23, 2009
competition
other than my sister I slow down when I run into competitive situations when tension hits a certain degree.
I want to be loved maybe, just the way I be.
I think maybe I let it all slide. With a veil of salty tears I swept the ashes behind my dreams and let everything down.
Too many words maybe
disguised in intentions
dreams are still swirling. Life is taking it slow with me.
And I am thinking of different situations, such as driving over the hills into the valley, those Romanian clowns at the street side, the truck and later my broken car.
I got to take it easy. Grades don't matter so much except for you need scholarships.
My natural reaction is to say: I don't need anything.
But still, I am hiding behind this screen and fear the outcome.
Too many jobs and too little capacity to go without sleep anymore.
...the way he put his hand around my face echoed inside. reverberated in my soul.
i don't know who he is but his smile pierced me like an early morning ray.
I want to be loved maybe, just the way I be.
I think maybe I let it all slide. With a veil of salty tears I swept the ashes behind my dreams and let everything down.
Too many words maybe
disguised in intentions
dreams are still swirling. Life is taking it slow with me.
And I am thinking of different situations, such as driving over the hills into the valley, those Romanian clowns at the street side, the truck and later my broken car.
I got to take it easy. Grades don't matter so much except for you need scholarships.
My natural reaction is to say: I don't need anything.
But still, I am hiding behind this screen and fear the outcome.
Too many jobs and too little capacity to go without sleep anymore.
...the way he put his hand around my face echoed inside. reverberated in my soul.
i don't know who he is but his smile pierced me like an early morning ray.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Aye!
I can't hold it back!
I am gone like the murmurs of times
past
Ah, what a sweet dust covering my soul!
Don't
you
want
to
go
for
love
I am gone like the murmurs of times
past
Ah, what a sweet dust covering my soul!
Don't
you
want
to
go
for
love
exception
I know I said it was gonna be over. But then there is a night full of dreams filtered by white.
And you go and can't belief your own eyes.
THE LAUGHTER IS SHAKING YOUR BODY LIKE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE
Listen, did you hear the sound?
Mostly I hear the echoes of my thoughts.
The dolphins swam with us...
What, what, you can't belief the thread?
Robbing up to the beach, sand against your skin.
Laughing in a whirlwind like swans singing on their way to meet death
Seegras on your head
Hair you flow away
Things sound so sweet when love is knocking against your innermost doors
Once, once, once
upon a time!
The hills of Berkeley, so familiar, you don't even have to exit the street
There was peace behind that veil of tears. You can't understand a word of muttering but life's winds are blowing gently, caressing your tortured skin.
Once, once, once upon a time, beneath a hickory tree.
Do you remember the hole in the bark? The nest for unknown stories untold.
Paco, the winds whispers but you're far gone.
Liking the course things take. Violins playing, bestowing meaning on your dust.
What, if you never been gone?
Ah, let me sing it once again!
In the midst of nothing! And you sway, and turn, and quiver and turn!
Once, once, once UPON! A! TIME!
The lead has gone.
Vanished
Only you. In the gray. Mist is covering your tears. Streams ceased in further times. Lightning upon your soul. Give it a chance to come. Break through. Burst in thousdand colors! AH! THE LIGHT!
Darkness is covering my soul, like layers of dirt. Piled on my streets, Gathering from ancient crusts, living up to my mares, of older times. Living up to my dreams of forsaken souls. Giving them peace in Hades, giving in to the crows, knocking gently on my chamber doors
Edgar Allan Poe
She was so sweet, against the obscurity
of vanished dreams
manifested in our lives
hard to take
hard to give
Listening to the grief
taking place in our midst
giving gently pace to forbidden melodies
murmurs of our time
can you give me one more, one more, one more, one more
of your good times
And you go and can't belief your own eyes.
THE LAUGHTER IS SHAKING YOUR BODY LIKE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE
Listen, did you hear the sound?
Mostly I hear the echoes of my thoughts.
The dolphins swam with us...
What, what, you can't belief the thread?
Robbing up to the beach, sand against your skin.
Laughing in a whirlwind like swans singing on their way to meet death
Seegras on your head
Hair you flow away
Things sound so sweet when love is knocking against your innermost doors
Once, once, once
upon a time!
The hills of Berkeley, so familiar, you don't even have to exit the street
There was peace behind that veil of tears. You can't understand a word of muttering but life's winds are blowing gently, caressing your tortured skin.
Once, once, once upon a time, beneath a hickory tree.
Do you remember the hole in the bark? The nest for unknown stories untold.
Paco, the winds whispers but you're far gone.
Liking the course things take. Violins playing, bestowing meaning on your dust.
What, if you never been gone?
Ah, let me sing it once again!
In the midst of nothing! And you sway, and turn, and quiver and turn!
Once, once, once UPON! A! TIME!
The lead has gone.
Vanished
Only you. In the gray. Mist is covering your tears. Streams ceased in further times. Lightning upon your soul. Give it a chance to come. Break through. Burst in thousdand colors! AH! THE LIGHT!
Darkness is covering my soul, like layers of dirt. Piled on my streets, Gathering from ancient crusts, living up to my mares, of older times. Living up to my dreams of forsaken souls. Giving them peace in Hades, giving in to the crows, knocking gently on my chamber doors
Edgar Allan Poe
She was so sweet, against the obscurity
of vanished dreams
manifested in our lives
hard to take
hard to give
Listening to the grief
taking place in our midst
giving gently pace to forbidden melodies
murmurs of our time
can you give me one more, one more, one more, one more
of your good times
Thursday, February 19, 2009
You ain't goin nowhere
Southern France 1995, a summer full of blossoming hopes. My body lean and strong, gliding through the waves, surfacing only to get a fresh breath of air.
Hooray, ride me high, tomorrow is the day my bride is going to come...
Dad listened to his Dylan Tape on end and the midsummer night storms washed my dreams ashore. La vida esta muy muy muy extrano!
Hooray, ride me high, tomorrow is the day my bride is going to come...
Dad listened to his Dylan Tape on end and the midsummer night storms washed my dreams ashore. La vida esta muy muy muy extrano!
alone
his dishes were dirty, piling up in the kitchen. foot prints all over the floor and the trashcans stinking. the mattress of his bed halfway slouching on the floor, the frame broken. he had run out of filters and papers again, talking to some Musician in Kansas City on skype.
I made pasta out of the few ingredients I could find in his fridge that weren´t rotten yet. The coffee machine was broken too and the cupboards unbelievably sticky and dirty. Official letters spilled over the kitchen table right next to his socks hanging on a laundry rack. Job center. Unpaid bills. Rent two months behind.
You need a label like us he says in the other room to the guy in Kansas City and then a couple of words in my language talking to me, maybe to impress him.
Can´t get to see his kid in a way that would make a normal relationship possible. And the laws are so fucked man.
He´s a hustler, baby and you know it.
later I sink into oblivion on his insanely comfortable black couch. talking about this and that. his kid. the laws. about America. about Europe. the differences. about, when it is time to leave.
and suddenly, like clouds being torn by a ray of light pushing through his attention focuses on this one question. never have i heard him listen as attentively before as I try to explain what it is like to perform music and feel this certain kind of energy flow and exchange.
i can´t explain.
this man is a wreck.
he is a mystery.
I made pasta out of the few ingredients I could find in his fridge that weren´t rotten yet. The coffee machine was broken too and the cupboards unbelievably sticky and dirty. Official letters spilled over the kitchen table right next to his socks hanging on a laundry rack. Job center. Unpaid bills. Rent two months behind.
You need a label like us he says in the other room to the guy in Kansas City and then a couple of words in my language talking to me, maybe to impress him.
Can´t get to see his kid in a way that would make a normal relationship possible. And the laws are so fucked man.
He´s a hustler, baby and you know it.
later I sink into oblivion on his insanely comfortable black couch. talking about this and that. his kid. the laws. about America. about Europe. the differences. about, when it is time to leave.
and suddenly, like clouds being torn by a ray of light pushing through his attention focuses on this one question. never have i heard him listen as attentively before as I try to explain what it is like to perform music and feel this certain kind of energy flow and exchange.
i can´t explain.
this man is a wreck.
he is a mystery.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
the bright side
it isn't so easy to live with people. all these different fucking emotions. really.
always cutting wings because we are so damn scared for our own space to whither and die. never indulging in trying to experience the new, the other, the idea.
but he took my face into his hands and smiled
like cupid
melting my ice
always cutting wings because we are so damn scared for our own space to whither and die. never indulging in trying to experience the new, the other, the idea.
but he took my face into his hands and smiled
like cupid
melting my ice
Thursday, February 12, 2009
like smokerings curling up behind your shoulder
Raven black boy
Curls in my mind, like smokerings at the bay
At the Egyptian Theater
Youcame after many eternities of waiting
Insecure just as I was
Walking up to me
I closed the laptop
And my eyes
Trying to remember
Who we were
Who we were
In that night
Curls in my mind, like smokerings at the bay
At the Egyptian Theater
Youcame after many eternities of waiting
Insecure just as I was
Walking up to me
I closed the laptop
And my eyes
Trying to remember
Who we were
Who we were
In that night
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Highstreet
i know it should't be about competition, but you still beat most of them, Emily.
I am in Kreuzberg.
It's evening. Massaged my friend. Damn. I really do love this work.
Now I am listening to Emily.
And the streets are rough out there.
Met this lady at the Falafel store. She was a connecting thread and things fall into place.
Watched people come and go, up and down the streets.
Some artists create this installation in a viewing window. Red, red, chaotic.
I am thinking of the English German girl in the U9. How fucked up she looked like. How truly fucked up. And she smiled finally, and she gave me one of her "Nimm 2" candys. We smoked a cigarillo at Osloer Str. and exchanged stories. They are making coffee in the oven where they lit a fire. No electricity in the house.
Homeless since May or so. Loves Berlin. Been here since October 2007. But she is only 19!
Her eyes so blue, light, with a dark ring around them. Intriguing. She put her hair out of her face and tried to brush it with her fingers when she noticed I smiled.
Things are weird in life.
Definitely.
I am in Kreuzberg.
It's evening. Massaged my friend. Damn. I really do love this work.
Now I am listening to Emily.
And the streets are rough out there.
Met this lady at the Falafel store. She was a connecting thread and things fall into place.
Watched people come and go, up and down the streets.
Some artists create this installation in a viewing window. Red, red, chaotic.
I am thinking of the English German girl in the U9. How fucked up she looked like. How truly fucked up. And she smiled finally, and she gave me one of her "Nimm 2" candys. We smoked a cigarillo at Osloer Str. and exchanged stories. They are making coffee in the oven where they lit a fire. No electricity in the house.
Homeless since May or so. Loves Berlin. Been here since October 2007. But she is only 19!
Her eyes so blue, light, with a dark ring around them. Intriguing. She put her hair out of her face and tried to brush it with her fingers when she noticed I smiled.
Things are weird in life.
Definitely.
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