beauty of the space

ahhhhh!
back!!!!!!!

the inner space. considering how many paths there are in this world that proclaim the acquisition of said inner space it is quite excusable that I still depend on outer circumstances to maintain this space, to a large extend at least. I am just a Human Becoming, you know!!!!

So even in Berlin when I was sharing this tiny room with my roommate from Sibiria I was better off: I had my own space, my walls with my pictures and photos and my table and my closet you know! The last five months I had none of that. None. Everything was my sister's. Even the camper couldn't be my space because she is so picky about her stuff. there is nothing wrong with that, Lord, no, but that's how it was. I kept telling myself, if you travelled, you wouldn't have your 'own' space either. But that was WRONG! because when you are on the road you DO have your own space: the sky!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the road! the minutes alone. nobody to bother you. yeah. thats it!!!!

Two weeks ago I moved into my friend's apartment. She can't be here for a month and so I can stay in her apartment. Yeah, this too, isn't really my room but I am alone there. I can cook, I can have my photos and stuff however I want it. I can play guitar whenever I want it, I can cry when I am sad I can moan when I make love I can laugh loud when I feel like it and listen to the music I like and there is no TV nonstop going and no akward feelings that I did yet something else wrong or didn't live up to the many expectations from the people around me. I can be with my love and not feel bad about it. I can live.

so I was walking the streets the other day and hey, suddenly I had these ideas for art installations. for projects. the old me. Always something up in my mind!!! I felt like I FUNCTION again!!!
I've missed that Piranha so much! Man it s fucking crazy!!! It's SO amazing and scary too, how much I seem to need this outer private space in order to open up this space inside of me that feeds of the creative energy and feeds in turn my identity. It's plainly gorgeous and insanly awesome to be back to this state of being.

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT!!!!

and now, lets get something done!

from the city of fallen angels

fallen angels....
I think of Therese a wonderful young woman who was blossoming and shining and she is going her way with the dignity of a fallen angel.
angels don't know how to cry.
and she knows the bitter sweet taste of salty water
and she knows that bitter sweet taste of shattered dreams
and she knows the bitter sweet taste of hope when it gets attacked by nasty reality
and she knows the bitter sweet taste of thin red blood
and she knows herself now a little bit more

and she moves on. never abandoning her wings but using her feet
and she moves on planting new seeds of love
and she moves on with tears in the corner of her mouth
and she moves on with a song in her heart

a song for the fallen angels
a song for the fairytales
a song for the lost hopes that swirl around in the atmosphere
a song for those who don't know what tears taste like
a song for those who don't know what a lie tastes like
a song for those who don't believe the convictions and the courage of the past
a song for those who fall for tomorrow
a song for those who are not in peace

hale to you Therese
hale to you lady in red
hale to you lady who lost her innocence and maintained it in her heart
hale to you lady who bares the dignity of a mater dola rosa without losing the affection for the now
hale to you my friend.

do you remember how we took photos on the top of the military buildings one sunny afternoon outside of Berlin

beautiful daughter of mine

I was walking the streets of Rome all by myself. The clouds and the winds made love in the afternoon and my steps led me through the insane touristic carneval to magical places, as if following an invisible red line that some angels had prepared for me long time before I even came to see.
This is how I found the dessous shop in which I acquired the wonder-bra with which I share many miraculous stories, this is how I found the church under which I shared an evening meal with two precious friends and heard old Sicilian mafiosi play on my guitar and sing as if it was redemption day.This was how this waiter invited me to drink whatever I wanted because he was a billionaire who wants to be normal and do something good all 7 years to somebody entirely unknown to him. He wanted to give me a Michel Angelo Original and lots of money, I left, half drunk, when my intuition told me so, smoked a cigarette, got really dizzy or high from that, took a bus to the hotel and stared at all those people around me in a whirl of thoughts on life, human beings and clouds that were drifting through my mind.
And this is how I found Adrian, the guy I fell in love with for one night. The last night. It was late, the club already closed and my friends had left. I was alone there, with this angel who for some reason had crossed my way. we did not protect. I almost felt like in Jim Jarmusch's 'Night on Earth' in the scene where the taxidriver in Rome sees this couple making love in the streets. In the morning I drove home in a bus, without looking back, smiling into the fresh sun.
when I arrived in my old hometown I didn't know whether or not I was pregnant. I wasn't scared. But, Lord knows, you can't stop thinking about it! It was golden sunny and - silent in my old hometown. Funny how you regocnize some things only when you come back. Down the street next to the old Newspaper location vis a vis to the old marketplace that saw me growing up I suddenly felt her presence around me.
I saw, or should I rather say i FELT this little gorgeous girl walking next to me. Skipping, jumping, running, holding my hand. Her hair was black, long and curly, but she was white. - Thus she couldn't be merely a projection of my wish to have 'chocolate-babies' and my affection for coloured people. But the crazy thing was: Adrian was blonde!!! And the even more crazier thing is: My love's hair is BLACK AND CURLY. And she was absolutely his daughter! I mean, when I think about it now...how she looked like. She could have SO been his daughter. - our! daughter. Herself. coming unto life through us. what a blessing. she's not there yet but still....it is VERY strange. very very.

Skip fast forward to somewhen in January 2006. A beautiful night, the moon caressing two young people at Venice Beach, listening to the sound of crushing waves and the sweet sound of overwhelmed lovers. It was the first coming together of me and my lover after such a long time of taking it slow. We didn't have anything to protect and we didn't risk anything. Not this time.

I looked at him and I looked in his beautiful eyes and I was overwhelmed by this certaintly that painted my thoughts in my soul: If we would make love now, here, I know, that I would be pregnant. I just know it with the certainty of a womans intuition. And her name would be S_____. Yeah. And the crazy crazy thing was, he knew it too. And now I just have to pray that she ll wait a little. beautiful daughter of mine. you already touched my heart. and we love you since the beginning of time

the good and the bad and the ugly and the beautiful

Already long ago I've realized that I am not a child of the so called 'fun' generation. The expression 'have fun' is casual and you can hear it from me too but in reality i think that's crap. I don't mind hardship, I don't mind difficult times, injuries or tears if you just live your life fully and courageous, - well, if I really think about it I think I am a real sucker for BEAUTY. If you try to make things BEAUTIFUL it is always worth the effort. Even tragic events can be beautiful in a way, you know? Tears can be beautiful. life can be beautiful. Fun goes by, beauty is carved into the soul like hyroglyphs into stone. Beauty is the food for the soul, not the fastfood, the good old fashioned slow food.
Beauty in the sense of 'DONE WITH LOVE'. Anything you do with love is beautiful. Subway for example. They have pretty decent food, if you compare it to Mac D, I mean for a poor student like me that's like the better option. But I feel tempted each and single time I buy a sandwich there to ask them whether they maybe could make the sandwich with love for me. You know? When your Mom cooks and she loves you and she loves cooking for you it is a whole different story, right?

So subway sandwiches are really not beautiful if you think about it.

Monday night I made love for the first time in my whole life. I am 23 years old and you might be surprised or even pityful for me, that this was suppposedly the first time, but I tell you, it is never to late for that. I made love, many times, to my boyfriend, but this time it was like man, REAL LOVE. You know? It was a trip. It was a blast. It was REALLY REALLY BEAUTIFUL.
Finally, finally, after all these days of worrying and being sad and missing him he came to visit me for three long days that we lived most of the time in seclusion in the apartment I have right now, listening to the raindrops falling, looking at the leaves blinking in the sun and playing guitar together, listening to music, cooking, watching movies and finally, finally talking.
This guy is such a precious stone and his soul is so beautiful. Like they say, the eyes are the window to the soul and his eyes are incredibly beautiful. The way they look you know?

God, I am so much in love now, all over again, I can't help it. It is such a beautiful thing. LOVE.

And he managed to say all these beautiful things that he had jokingly reversed earlier which had turned me as a result very insecure. But now I felt he was being serious about it. He treated me finally as the princess and queen I am, the goddess of love and he touched my soul with his magic fingers. He showed appreciation for my music, which in turn made me open up even more to him, he told me how good a cook I am (my dad would relly laugh hearing that), how beautiful I am and all that good stuff :))
we had some arguments and we came to conclusions and we made GOOD FOOD. and love

Gott sei gedankt

jesus christus - confessions of a warrior of the rainbow

The mother of my very very dear friend Viola is what you call psychic around here. Matter of fact, she has healed herself from mental illness (some might claim she is still there) and has explored energetic healing from the asian medicine and broadening it further and further until she really attained capabilities that surprised yours truly.
The moment I gained trust in what she was doing was when our rabbit who was injured reacted to her treatment in an astounding way. There is no way that could have been faked. This rabbit REACTED clearly to what she was doing and god knows, rabbits are not like us, biased and suspicious all the time.
Things got even more amazing when she contacted the spirit of the rabbit and started talking in tongues - she said it was rabbit tongue - and again, Lord knows, this wasn't made up. That was channeled and you can come with any sort of explanations and excuses and what not: you weren't there. You wouldn't say all this had you been there. so just believe me for a change.
One day, she was working with me and Viola on issues we had in our class, she said that I was from the realm of Jesus Christ. I was younger and I didn't dare to ask so much, but from what I figured I understood that she meant that different souls have different tasks and intentions on earth and that I was coming from the close realm of the Spirit of Jesus Christ (I don't know, maybe some are closer to other Spirits but I won't get into that nor do I claim here to know whether or not Jesus Christ is or is not the same Spirit as God. I don't know. And maybe it is even not necessary to know.) and therefore were here on earth on a mission to serve in the Spirit of Him. Those who know me, know that I am not at all someone who is talking about this at all too much. I mean, I hardly ever quote the bible (because I haven't read it) or say 'this is what Jesus would do' or whatever. I think it often though. When I walk past beggars and homeless I cringe at the fact that I don't help all of them. I think 'Jesus would give them what they need' so I try to give as I can, I have an abundance of smiles and love, so I give of that and they crave that and love it, trust me. And when I have money, I give. I don't like to support addictions but when somebody makes an effort to gain money, i.e. makes music on the street, I ll give. I love. Unconditionally.
Well, the reason why I am writing this is the following: for some reason I attract people who are mentally instabile, who are prone to becoming schizophrenic or other forms of mental illness, people who therefore probably experiment(ed) a lot with drugs and who maybe are just vampires for my good energy. Thats what bad tongues would say, but I am not stupid. I know how to protect myself. I was blessed with parents who have sung the same protective song for and with me every night until I was 13 or so. This is a huge gift, I tell you. In the night when the devil visited my boyfriend (name it devil or whatever you like) he found out that everything he had based his life on - that is music, modern music - didn't help him a bit. The only thing that helped was singing this one song that his mother had taught him when he was five through the whole night.
I smiled. I know about the power of these songs. Let psychologists have their theories about associative powers of memory and other placebo effect like explanations, I don't care. I take it for what it is: A powerful spring. And my parents gave me this incredible gift, the key to this source, this spring, my Waldorf school was an incredible way of acquiring tools (weapons!) to face this world and this life entirely and frontal and as it is: Therefore I give. Therefore I am a warrior and I am not afraid. Because I am a sucker for goodness, for love, for forgivingness. I love this world SO SO SO incredibly much. all of it.

And BECAUSE I am sitting at this spring, with its unconditional love, smiles, embrace and power, I feed the hungry and give water to the thirsty. And I know how to distinguish between the thirsty and hungry, the starving, and the vampires. Don't get me wrong. I KNOW HOW TO PROTECT ME. THIS is the most valuable and incredible gift my parents ever gave me. The means of protection of my spirit and my soul and a healthy lifestyle for my body...

And I am so surprised , so so so surprised as to how life, again, has sent me a stranger, a lover, who is at the verge of falling. Everything seemed so easy and so light and so - easy. Yeah, easy to me, in the beginning. Wild Child, no restrictions, no boundaries, just love. Love grew to commitment, to relationship, to opening up, to digging deep into the depths of our souls and I found a broken raven bird in my right left palm.
This wonderful being who had treated me so beautifully and brought back love and sex, body mind and soul together for me, was broken deep inside and longing for a remedy but yet rejecting it in every form I started trying to give it to him.
Yet another life lesson. I knew from my big youth love Pedro that there is nothing you can do. And I knew the pain and the tears and the sadness that lay ahead and I wasn't afraid because I have never been and maybe thats due to me being from the realm of Jesus Christ. My love will buy me a bible and he will read it to me. I never have. I am a free spirit. My father has raised me this way. He knew, that one day I would eventually read the great book and I would find my own way. No,. I am not turning all of the sudden fundamentally Christian. I've always been close to God and thats not a loophole my love. I am living this life, that you were talking about.
I wake up, with the intention to do God's will here. I wake up with a smile. I open my eyes to the beauty of life, to the gifts and I don't shun the tasks and the hardship that comes along. I don't close my eyes from the evil and the sad and the bad and the dirty and I don't shun working, oh yes, I am struggeling. I am lazy. I have my issues. But all in all. I am there. And I love every single bit of it and I am ready to take it on.
I am the mother who wants to protect her children, the planet, the life. I am the lifegiving Goddess who shines in the love of God.
I am the loving messenger of Jesus Christ, because we all are, he is in us, who loves Maria Magdalena just as he loves Judas.

And I have always loved you. Always. And I always will.

lovesong for my stranger

bringing back
the every day
nitty gritty
relationship work stuff
of course must have appeared
very weird
to someone
who just
talked to the devil
and realized
that his whole life
was based on things
that oh
so do NOT matter.

ah, my stranger. my love has been
and will be
in eternity
the wings of your guardian angel
he is trying to get through to you
you've been veiling yourself off
for oh so long
and now he is trying to talk
and love
and gently
explain to you
that love is
when
it matters

It all was once upon a time...

It all happened and it is all true. The shoe came with the devil and never let go of our memories and plagiarized pains ever again. In the voice of a man there is something that makes every woman on this planet understand when something is not right. when something is wrong and he won't admit it.

lay lady lay

this song transports my mind back into the world of ours when we found an escape in the middle of the night, in the shelter of a couple of clouds and the silver moon shining mildly and friendly as the time passed and you hold onto me and i cried and you said you are just so tired of it all.
we both had the dream of running away and just to live on a fram and lead a peaceful life. happy. you were tired and i was crying for you, for you not being able to break through to my world. i broke into your world, your world of grey and you said I am the only real seeming thing right there in your life, as your mind was still occupied by the grey veils of the past...acid, spped, lsd, amphetamines, crack, coke, weed, marihuana. you name it, i blame it.

and you are the best thing he's ever seen
stay lady stay
stay with your man a while

that's all i wanted. staying with you.

you can have a cake and eat too

sometimes.

when he's standing in front of you
lay lady lay
lay across my big brass bed

he never had such a bed and he was never a man really to me. someone who is able to take his own life in his own hands and cuts lose the dead ends. but no, it was too early and now it happened. I told him, I am there, consider me too. But he was ready to accept the consequences to what he was doing. and now, i am sure, he is sitting there and has a hard time not to regret because of me....

whatever colors you have in your mind
i show them to you
and you see them shine


lay lady lay
lay across my big brass bed.....

what a good time that was....

in limbo

I am losing myself
and it is a perfect day to do so. they sky is grey and plenty the opportunities but they drift by just as the clouds do and lack of mobility and activity leads you to the strangest corners of the town. the same, still the same. because, explorer spirits don't have access to limbo, it is the perfect down ward spiral and nobody to blame. everything is better now. the past. the memories. the tomorrow. never the now because the now has been caught and murdered by my own greedy self.
the problem with limbo is, when you jump you still just hang in there.
and then, trying to break it,
I destroy everything
including
the me and the myself

what remains is the I and the eye of the beholder

it is

..

so. - strange

the urge to hurt

what you love most.
self defiance.
jealousie.
rage.
disappointment.
fury.
wrath.
too much love aimed into nowhere.
no real response.
you go
and you do
what hurts most

I start... to ... understand.






so hell yeah! this guy calls. after 30 something. know him from the trainstation at Santa Barbara. He wanted to teach me how to paraglide. on my birthday. I went home, my love couldn't pick me up. I was all sad but it was a good time anyways. Now he calls again. Turns out, he is in FUCKIN LAKE ELSINOR. now, how cool is that. thats where my love was every night of the past week, that's where the house is where he grew up and that's where he can't take me to. so. what a freaking coincidence. going to fly with this guy THERE makes such a bitter sweet revenge for a lack of care. i can't blame my love really. sometimes you've got to take care of yourself first, in order to be able to function at all. but still. ahhh, what a sweet bitter poise. he would come and pick me up with his motorcycle. ahhh, sweet, bitter poise.

like a poem made from the sea

for you
He walked up to me, I could see the love and the insecurity and the longing and the regret and the carefullly evaluating thoughts painted in his pale face. He smiled as he saw me sitting against the wall, nodding my head away to music he couldn't hear. Hey my love.
It seemed as if we hadn't seen each other in years whereas in fact it had been only five or six days. An eternity. My heart jumpstarted right there. I packed my stuff, carefully as to win a little time, akward time, and continued my dance on egg shells.
Traffic...Friday night...I am so pissed....I don't have much time...
Why don't you stay with me my love
I can't. Please.
why
Please, I just have to go.
Words just seem to never come true.
At the appartment I went to the kitchen and grabbed some apple sauce. The ktichen was slumberly dark. He grabbed me around my waste. With one hand balancing the applesauce with the other hand caught up in his curly black hair my body flooded over him like the high tide. The bed squeaked. I stopped, ate the apple sauce, carefully, slowly, smiling at him. He was already gone, washed away by passion and the lack of physical attention during the last past days.
I have to see you tonight, he had said. I need to see you, kiss you. Otherwise I am going to explode.
Yeah right, I had thought, yeah right. You need a fix. But what about love.
I fell right there. Into his eyes, into the abyss of desperate and intense longing, we tried to hold on to each other while wild rhythms of love beat our bodies up. Like drummers in the dark did desire and love and lust dance their greedy dances. The phone rang - like what? didn't somebody say, whenever you ARE you should turn your phone off? - in the middle of mystically prescribed ways, circeling patterns that the oceans taught us long long time ago. It was like a thrill, reality check one two. He has to go. A little longer. A little longer. But not far enough for me. Him leaving tore just another hole into my heart. Don't think it isnt torture for me either. I can't say anything. sometimes, sometimes, despite all kingdoms you know you have, you have to let go of the queen inside of you and just take what you can get. Without regret.

I didn't even want to go so far. I thought we wouldn't do it.
Me neither. I actually was quite sure I would say no.
I mean, you are my girlfriend. I said to myself we would sit down and talk.
yeah. we laughed.
we did talk, in a better way. But you didn't really hear me. You were washed away. Who can blame you. I can blame you. Blame you for not being here enough to learn how to listen. There is no instant listening programme. There is no such thing. Even not in America.

depth, growth, meaning, sense, and all that crap

It's not like I can't be happy by myself. You know. I have this ability. I can be down at the ground but I will always get up again and as somebody who loved me once said, I always wake up with a smile on my face.
Furthermore, I can totally immerse myself into music, into rhythm and there are a lot of vampires out there. And there also a lot of people out there who know how to truly appreciate a member of the smiley race and how to make the queen fly.

yeah.

dance baby, dance

and then -

run

to freak out or not to freak out, that is the question

yeah. whereas the most essential for the rest of humanity has always been 'to be or not to be' it is definetely 'to freak out or not to freak out' for drama queen women like me. And we are only called Drama Queens because human beings have the insatiable urge to label and box and explain just about everything.
Doesn't fit in?
Listen to fucking Drum'n'Bass motherfucker!!!!
for this matter, here a nice little link that I personally sorta kinda like: www.epitonic.com
so this is my refuge. music. once more. the drug.
Now check this out: never go out of your way too much for a lazy ass boyfriend. It was such a unique and overwhelmingly gorgeous thing that he said how much he misses me and has to come out here TONIGHT to see me for an hour or so (yeah right) that I immediately dropped the idea of performing at an open mic session at a Cafe my friend told me about. I fucking dropped it, because I wanted to see my love. Now, I even didn't think of asking him to come out there because I know he doesn't have a car and can't ask his friends to drive him all over LA. So see, it's not like I am not understanding or comprehensive of his situation.
But so I am fucking waiting here. First I waited where he had wanted me to wait. But now I am where I was because I have wireless here and fuck, blogging is probably the best solution for this 'to freak out or not to freak out' question.
I mean, hey, I don't want to spoil this one time I can see him! I am so fucking putting up with it, I don't know myself anymore. FUCK THAT!!!!!!! But I love him just a little too much. FREAK!
who knows....
I am still a big fan of life.
But I should have gone
1) to the Cafe and play
2) wait where I wanted to wait from the start
3) leave a long time ago

thats about it.
a temporarily true snap shot of my freaking female mind.

now go and enjoy motherfucking downtempo 'Herbert" 'Leave me now"

good night

changes from nothing to one

'you know who I am
you've stared at the sun
well I am the one who loves
changes from
nothing
to one..'

L.Cohen

loops

disclaimer: YES I am jerking off on this page. big time. no claims for valuable writing. not now.

Loops. lollipop. sob.
Don't we just have to abandon that what hurts most? Get rid of the pain that hinders us to unfold our beautiful beings? Get rid. Hm. I can't believe it. It is the same yet different. A lonely night, just, now, with cigarettes. Damn yeah. I am still myself. i am still going somewhere

and there in the cold somewhere are you. biting your nails and struggling in some way or the other. A glove on the street. A weird mindset. And I remember faintly how I cried and stayed up until early in a different time, in a different place but yet the same. A person you love too much, a person too far away, some sweet memories and a broken longing heart. It is so ridiculous how we loop through our lives.

so was that what I was looking for? Riding wild and reckless along my way what I chose to be my way, and in the end it wasn't up to me at all. Like this little girl that I once was, that didn't know where the breaks were. I wrecked the bike. And then I hid it in the bushes and ran. ran, like the wind.

it makes me sad

ultimatum

so there i am again. in a ridiculous fit of homesickness for berlin, sitting outside a shitty social welfare apartment in a shitty part of Santa Monica and one beautiful star in the night sky. at least the stars are still there. or at least they uphold the illusion...I stare at the powerbook screen. dirty. it is my sister's. mine is dirty, too. she and I.
when everything seems to crack and crumble...it is cold. I am shivering.

tears are dwelling behind myself. self pity is so pathetic. American Spirit lasts long, thanks God. glowing and glimmering in the dark, a substitute for a campfire, celebrating the absolute loneliness that creeps up from behind.

YOU CAN'T JUST GO BACK WHEN YOU FALL. GRAVITY.

jealousy, yeah, that was a nice trip. expressing how much that can be an engine. you know. if this bitch can do it, dude, i can do it better. fuck, yeah.

let me go back in and grab the whole pack.

there were sweet spots, like the Weinerei at the Zions Church. Ah. And good friends, like almost everywhere on this planet, Mira, I miss you. It is a strictly sentimental melancholy, a nostalgic realization..'TV on the Radio' - 'All your dreams are over now'. exactly, right.

so there is my best friend in New York now, then hitting European Ground, Albania. fare the well.

oh I am heading towards a long long winding road of loneliness.

do you know the feeling when you wish, that your Ex would feel honored and ultimately kicked by reading that you just fucking regret too many things that you weren't able to appreciate at the right moment? that he would still love you somehow despite everything you did to burn the bridges and destroy the image he had of you in a ridiculous outrageous fit of self destruction? Ah. Damn. If you ever read this. I have to admit. You were such a wonderful person in my life. Ah. FUCK

pursuit of happiness. the trap

'we all should go to Hawaii for a month'

I looked at her and I smiled and i cried inside and I thought yes. we all want to be happy. and you are longing, still, for your family. you hated me. you were disppointed by me. and you still want to try it with me. But I know it's not for my sake. It is for the sake of your own happiness, for the sake of the pursuit of your dream, longing for family and happiness.

when she stopped at Lima, Peru, for an hour before the flight 'home' to LA she left her daughter and her daughter's publicist in the airport and went to the city, just for an hour.

and then it struck her hard, all of the sudden: what, if I just run away. If I just disappear. One Email saying 'I missed my life'. and then go, get a baby and do it all right, this time. Go travelling with my kid until it is 10. you know. live the life i wanted to live. No fights with an asshole husband. No kicking in the stummick. No drugs. No abuse. Just strap the baby on my back and see this beautiful world....

I looked at her. And I felt her pain.

how was the bottom line of the movie i watched the other night?

WE
ALL
FALL


and for the pursuit of my own happiness i believe i can't come to Hawaii. I would be happy, superficially, I would feel good. But I chose the other path. I want to work it out with my love...you know...youth....illusions....that we cling on to...and that's allright, as far as I am concerned. just because you know already that the mountain has always been there it doesn't mean you don't have to go and create your own path, right?

long story short

so basically, to make this previous long story in the previous post short:

the moral of jealousie is: that happens only, if something is out of balance.

it may be you, or him or just simply the inbetween.

life of brian, my phone, my nephew and jealousie.

ahh, finally, after having craved for it for months i got to rent 'Life Of Brian' by Monthy Python. Good old times. I just dig this kind of humor. It is so refreshing. I love the scene where the 'People's front of Judea' (or was it the Judea's people front, teehee) discuss what good the Romans brought to Judea. They wound up with education, water system, public order, and many more points and it just made me think of the resentment in Germany against America and elsewhere in the world and the many things that they still wouldn't want to miss out. It's a very ambiguous issue though but I won't get into that here.

so after the movie was done my nephew is like 'i change into my PJ's and then suddenly, surprise surprise MY PHONE is in his basket! hahaha. what the eff. I've been looking for it for two days, after it miraculously disappeared (I didn't look like for five seconds), was turned to silent all of the sudden and then switched off. STRANGE. TWO days. i mean, if you make a joke, play it for an hour maybe. but not freaking two days! It was graduation at school and yeah but I survived without a phone. Like in the good old days... :) but still....after I announced 'innocently' (good move though) tonight, that the finder would get a 30 min massage the phone reappeared all of the sudden....and HE found it. hahaha. i mean, hey! he even tried to negotiate the price for the finder by trying to blackmail me like 'i'm not going to look for it if the massage is only 30 min.' jesus christ. give me a break.
but it makes me wonder. he is 13, needs so much attention and affection. no wonder, his sister has ALWAYS been in the center point of attention ever since he was born. and now she is a moviestar and what not. and then there is his little brother, everybody cuddles and loves him...i think i'll give him a 45 min massage ;-)

so coming home was really nice after all. no stress. because the stress is now somewhere else: it s unbelievable how MUCH i changed from how I was in my previous relationship. I am putting up with so much annoying things, and now I even have to battle my jalousie. I always thought of myself as a strictly not jealous person but now I get to know the very annoying and perutrbing site of a relationship: being jealous.

there is this girl, she just finished the guitarprogramme in my school, she is grungy, different, strange and my love can TALK to her. yeah. what the fuck. and he is going to ask HER to sing his songs and make the music for his songs. he initially asked me at some point but admitted now that he thinks that I won't get it and can't do it. No offense, but you know, I like to write sorta depressed stuff and ...yeah, the happy little fairy fucking tale piranha doesn't understand that stuff. hell yeah. oh god, I am learning. I've been feeling depressed here more than ever since I was freaking 17 years old! Jesus. Makes me think. I had a good time with Giovanni, Kurt and Stefan, thinking secretely to myself, that those are people who speak 'MY' language, and how sad it is in a way, that my love and I don't seem to speak the same language after all but that it also doesn't matter.

and now I have to see how this feels like: IT SUCKS. seeing him talking with slightly melancholic depressed J______, seeing him deeply worried about her, that he feels bad for her, that she says she thinks it sucks that so many girls are so clingy (ooops, what the fuck was your point here? ah? did you actually fucking imply here something......roooooaaaar!!!!!) that she reminds him of his ex, that he doesn't tell me where he goes and I find him at 2 AM somewhere on Hollywood Blvd, because 'a friend' has a huge problem and it totally drags him down that he cannot help but this friend is basically screaming for help. and then i just conclude that it is her, I have my reasons, trust me.
aaahr. and then we went to visit a friend in hospital today, all together and seeing her being sweet and smiley and getting so fucking well along with him makes me just freak out. I don't say anything my heart just grows heavier and heavier as my mind plays wicked games on me like whispering in my ear, how GOOD THEY LOOK TOGETHER and how great of a couple they would be, he the dedicated engineer/producer, she the muse and freaking musician/artist. yes, their lives seem to coiincide way more than ours. and it makes me sick and fucking fucking sobbing right here over the typepad.

i know that it is irrational in a way, but in the same time...things aren't going too well these days. he had a lot of stress, so I sort of put up with EVERYTHING. but it is seriously NOT FUN to be his girlfriend right now. fuck. i feel like putting up with it ALL the time. and then he is like, don't freak out over J______, you jam all the time with Kurt or hang out with Giovanni and I am okay with it. Once I actually have a friend I really can talk with you act weird like that...
well thanks honey. so much for me being your best friend. if you TALKED TO ME, too, it wouldn't be an issue for me all. and if i wouldn't think that she is mysteriously beautiful and interesting in a way. oh fuck. i understand him now with Giovanni and Kurt and even Stefan. It just fucking sucks. He says he doesn't care anymore. I thought he was over it, but the way he says it now is like making me feel he gives a fuck. and that's a bad thing.

man, J______ is a fucking cokehead. fuck fuck. leave her alone. 'somethings are inevitable' that's what you both concluded in your last conversation, ha? well. i was going to freakin fight for it and try to make it work. I am so freakin sad it is not funny. you are not going to make it happen or work, I see it coming. I will put up with it for the longest time and then spacial distance will do the rest. good night.

as long as you can't share this other side with me. as long as you can't fucking tell me what's on your heart or mind, we can't be together. really. you didn't come in my world either but at least I tried to show you. and you make my beauty look ugly and ridiculous.

what has become of this love.......it's fighting this freaking vacuum.

and i am so scared for you. I hate this fucking drug world so bad, it's not funny. some people just shouldn't mess with that. and karma is karma, man! it is sth you can change. with your actions in the NOW. oh god.....i don't know. i like J______ but I don't like how she is creeping the shit out of me....how she is spinning this web over you. She is like a snake, smiling and being oh so fucking melancholic and cheered up by you. and you think you are the savior. hooray. finally something, that is due to you. happiness by you. wow. fuck thats so awesome. if that's what you need and want i won't stay in your freaking way. really. it makes me so sick.


maybe i am just tripping.

framed

your head in the window, your eyes obscured, outside, outside a piece of a transmission line - remniscant of signs of progress in older days, a piece of tree in the other corner, remniscant of nature that we tried to tame and behind that - clouds. lots and lots and lots of clouds. floating in the sky.

it's not like...

it's not like....i don't have any fucking anger inside of me..
it's not like....it doesn't make me totally fucking furious to see all this
frickin self indulgence and self pitty everywhere

shattered on the ground
spilled over our souls
and fucking our actions up

it's not like...i couldn't scream on stage
and destroy
and spit
and scream again, at the top of my lungs
and smoke a cigar and pretend
and throw my fists against this wall
and paint my hair pink
and tatoo my frustration and anger on my lips
and put your car on fire
and cut off all of your curls
dripping down your brain.

it's not at all like that.

first draft for a song, written in anguish. yeah. anguish. (I looked it up!}

VACUUM

All that you ever warned me about, be cautious, be cautious girl
was indeed out there
and all the time it was inside of you
so I learn that there is still so much you hide
'it seems there is so much more that you hide, sometimes i get the feeling that all i got to know was your pride'
so maybe all i got to know was your pride

so drenched with disappointment
all the talking you hate walking
filled up with dreamful wishes
like a bush full of birds
that you kill with the precision
of a hunter who knows his decisions
sometimes you wander astray
whispering in the ear of the wind
telling stories of their beauty
at night, at night
tomorrow you go back to fight

full of hatred you point out with disgust
and your eyes filled with a breathtaking beauty
your soul touching mine with the grace of an eagle
stretching and sucking the fresh milk
of my breasts that the goddess gave me
as a gift with a smile

but you never entered my beauty
although you find your way in the darkness
watching me merely from inside like a voyeur
ashamed of his addiction
holding on to glas to hide his afflictions

i offered my crutch but you declined
you love me but you are so busy
with protecting me
the wild child
from what you think is inevitable and irreversibly your world,
your karma
clinging to the past, never beholding my real strength and power and courage
did you ever see how strong I really am

'I can't follow you my love, you can't follow me' (L. Cohen)

so tell me,
tell me now,
how long can two people
last
when all they have is a
vacuum...


life lessons

what i learned:

- I am still lacking efficiency and walking my talk. This is with a complete manager secretary diploma in my pocket. How pathetic is that???
- family IS important and should be a last refuge. No use in trying to divorce it or not to fight for it.
- WHAT I WANT:
In my last relationship in Berlin I didn't know at all what I want in a relationship. I hadn't had a real relationship before that ever. J___ on the other hand DID have a kind of long relationship before me with this girl and knew what he wants and needs: TRUST, CARE, COMMITMENT, HONESTY. no big secrets, NO CHEATING.
Well, I think there HAS to be this inner space in which you can have your own little secrets that you don't share with your lover and partner, but I've pretty much come to terms with all of the above mentioned and subscribe it FULL HEARTEDLY. In many ways it makes me shake my head about myself and in the same time I am filled with joy for this wonderful boy/man, to know his place at such an early age. May the goddess bless him forever and may he make the women in his life blissfully happy, as he tried to do with me. I am so sorry J_____, that I wasn't ready to take on this wonderful gift and although there are several things that you did that killed it (talking about your ex as much as you did is definetely a NO) I take on full responsibility for all that and apologize for being such an immature little brat. I really tried to destroy the wonderful image you had of me. It wasn't good that you idealized me so much, but in the same time I see that I was wrong. But thats how life goes. When you aren't ready you aren't ready. That's it.

In a way it s funny how I explored my darker sides as a reaction to someone who had such an idealized image of me and how now, as I am in the middle of the Hollywood-desaster and in a relationship with someone who has seen the dark in its darkest colors, start seeing the sides in me that J_____ was referring to. My Gypsy knows and sees the same in me, but sometimes it seems to me as if he views this like a sort of antique thing in a museum that needs to be protected and just not from this world. It doesn't seem to me as if he can really embrace it, maybe I am a little hard on him here now, but yeah thats anyways just a snapshot of what flies through my head right now...So his emphasising the bad 'real' world out there makes me insist on those beautiful things. I simply refuse to give in to that. And it makes me sad. It's not like I am ignoring these sides of our world but I am not ready to give in to them. Is there a difference or am I just not seeing it?

whatever. it makes me furious.

so lifelesson number 4 is here: YES I DO WANT TO HAVE TRUST AND HONESTY AS THE BASIS. and relationships ARE about CARE and SUPPORT and growth.

hooray pain!

it doesn't happen too often, but today in the morning I was really happy about this tiger who tears my lower back and stomach into pieces: hooray my period! finally. what a waste of money, this pregnany test. tzntzntzn.

empty. strength courage and wisdom

there was no message in the bottle. the bottle was empty and so was I. there was no way I could find a way out, there was no way I could find a way in and make myself at home. An eternal state of transition, floatingness, in limbo, hanging in there waiting for some sort of illumination, a sunray early in the morning maybe. maybe the long awaited blissful happiness piercing through my heart while looking at a sunrise over the ocean while dolphins glide through waves.

can't this match with a dream i once had? where has it gone? drowned in the oversupply?

in the window the reflection of myself. there is a girl with long brown hair, a orange skirt she was wearing for way too long, no underwear but only i know, a too tight jeans jacket, sad eyes. an espresso. a book she writes in. a full moon. italian kitsch romantic music that relentlessly drives tears into my eyes.

once upon a time. she thinks. once upon a time this girl danced whenever she wanted, unrestrained, on the streets, where ever she wanted. once upon a time this girl dared to sing because she felt safe. once upon a time this girl longed out to open up her heart to a stranger and she was afraid the weight of her love with which she used to embrace the whole world, the holy and the whores, the bulgars and the famous, the liars and the storytellers, the beggars and the junkies, the ugly and the beautiful - would kill somebody, if she directed it only at one person. now she starts concentrating the love. cutting it back, appropriately for a bad world that she was never afraid of. loving overprotection slowly seems to suffocate that what is beautiful. so maybe now, she thinks. maybe now it is time for rain and my tears will water your garden. but she truly just doesn't know.

locked away, somewhere there, inside, she hears a blackbird singing. is it that memories are deluding. look forward. just look forward, into the now. and in the now...she feels lost.

and just in the middle of this overwhelming feeling of lostness, of being stranded somewhere where she really doesn't and never will belong to, there is a voice: India.Arie. click the title of this post for the lyrics. it is an incredibly beautiful song and it is for you Viola. And for me. And for the rest of us, too...

maybe I will write a message. and put it in a bottle....


ps. but still. I really don't feel like I can ever belong here. ever.

several reasons

there are several reasons why the period can be late:
stress
aprupt change in life
change in food
(i make these all up but i think they are right)
ahm, age
pregnancy

fuck.

little sister

it is REDICULUS how it makes me jump and feel so good and glad and happy and all tickely inside when I have a good conversation with my sister on the phone that makes me feel that - everything is allright. and she likes me and she is cool with me and we can cooperate and work together and have fun.

sometimes you have to go out of the forest to stop seeing only trees...I should have moved out from there a LOOONG time ago...

little sisters probably have it ingrained in their DNA to admire their big sistas and to want their appreciation and love and approval. aaah. it sucks being the little sister....

boys don't cry

grey in grey. dark grey.

I left the school in a hurry, grabbed my ID, my money, his jacket, ran to the parking lot, clack clack clack the cowboy boots on cold asphalt, it is a Californian night, unusually cold, his car is still there.
So I start walking down the Blvd, somewhere here was a VONS or was it Savondrugs? Today is the 13th, I should have gotten my period today. A bitch surely I was, pms-ing like hell, craving chocolate and icecream, crying at the drop of a dime...freaking out late at night in his car when I start freezing and he sleeps and doesn't turn on the heater and mumbles 'yes, i'll do it' and falls back asleep. when I reach out to him to caress him and it tickles him. freak out.
we both are at the verge of a nervous breakdown. Pregnancy would be just the cream on top of a very bad nightmare...

I shudder in the cold. The blvd is deserted. grey in grey. dark grey. some chicas blanance on their stilettos through the night, soem limousines are parked at the side of the street, the drivers leaning at the car, smoking or just observing - nightlife is nightlife, no matter where. hustlers, drugdealers, fucked up personas, the whole glamour and gloomy misery of city humans, so to say. homeless mingled into the scenery of the perverted fake world of hollywood, where the realities are so hard that they can be covered like stone. There is a party, lots of black people or do you say African Americans? thoughts just skipping through my mind, irrelevant, just there so I don't have to fear the emptiness behind them...

There is no reason really to go there and buy the pregnancy test now. But I still go. I have to go. IT is one of those moments, when intuition dictates me or is it my angels? taking some stupid idea as a pretext to send me on my way....

Like following a minutae plan I cross the street at a light, stroll further down the Blvd until my wandering hasty eyes finally find their destiny, their destination: grey in grey, dark grey: Him standing at the light, his dark 'fro a familiar shape to my eye, his grey Bob Dylanesque jacket clenched tightly around his broad shoulders and slender body, his glasses dark in his pale face.

'love!' ... and then hesitantly 'what - the - fuck?'
'what are you doing here piranha?'
'i have to buy something'
'come with me'
'no, come with me'
he starts crossing the street. grey. disappointed maybe, not willing to make an effort.

Amazon Warriors. You are the strong. Women, gather.

I follow him, wait, my love, wait, I am coming. I realized that the pregnancy test wasn't the reason for me coming out here. it was a pretext. a pretext to meet him there, caught in the act, - I asked him three times where he was in a text message, he didn't answer, there was sth strange and this just supports this feeling. he looks so miserable and sad and tortured there in the night. he is freezing his ass off, he is so tired and he is so out of place. misplaced. and I met him, seemingly coincidentally. pretext. i say. pretext
'what's your problem'
'i don't have a problem'
'no, i said, there is a problem'
he says that a friend of his is in big trouble. seeking for help. and he can't help, he tries to, but he can't, he tried to talk, but the words won't come out right. because they both know that they are hollow. he looks like an old man, bent under a burden that you can't name. when somebody slips and falls into this abyss the terror and horror, the pain becomes blank and nameless. it grabs your heart and suffocates it in one powerful movement. I've been there, seen it, I suffered and suffocated and drowned in the ocean of my tears. for him it is even worse. he has been there, done that. he knows what it is like to fall and to scream and scream and scream a mute cry for help. like in a soundproof room nobody hears you. people see you, point at you, but they don't hear you crying for help.
'i've always been able to help people' he says. 'and i can't do anything now. it is so terrible.' words can't tell .

the same expression, the same pain in his eyes like back then, when I broke down and cried and nothing could console me. it was starteling and confusing for him. nothing helped, until my wife came and played piano for me.
'and thats the reason why i was so upset and freaked out today and the last couple of days, it hadn't anything to do with you...'
I look at him. It hurts. Again. When will he understand?
'Look, I've told you, I don't blame you or anything it's just....if you want to be in a relationship with me you have to tell me these things. you don't have to tell me names in case it would be disrespectful to do so. but you have to tell me whats on your mind, on your heart. I want to be able to be there to support you. and please don't expect me to do that entirely blind. I need to know what to direct my heart to. that's the whole idea of a relationship, that you are stronger together. ..'

he sits now, in my practice room. his glasses up. his beautiful eyes his eyes...'no babies' he says. 'no babies'.
yes i say tenderly, don't worry. there won't be any babies. not now.
but what if
I told you, you don't have to worry, love. I swallow hard. Please, lord, it would break my heart to do this. It would break my heart and every time I think of it I feel like crying. I don't want to kill his baby.
'babies are smart' I say. 'they know that it is not the moment. don't worry my love'
'not now. i can't -all he ever wanted was a happy family.
Not now' he says and his eyes are so incredibly sad and shiny. tears.

boys don't cry

little wing on Hollywood Blvd

I dare not say 'fly on little wing, little wing' - not yet.
The night is dark out there, the palm trees silent in their own yellowgreen ways, a lonely star blinking, survivor of the citylights... Homesick feelings remote now only, somewhere in the back of the head. more so there are heart sick feelings wrapped in melancholic outlooks on love and life, ridiculously repeating the outlines of my beliefs: how everything happens for a reason, how there is no such thing as coincidence, - adding values to maybe meaningless inanities; attempts to stir the ship somewhat safely over the unknown but beloved sea...
What if the bird decides to build its nest this spring on a different tree? What if the little wing has to fly on? What if? What if the warrior aims with the wrong arm and then cuts her own breast? The one she didn't cut off?

Hollywood Blvd drenched with questions, maybe as unreal as the facades of the houses and the seemingly out-of-the-world weirdos I admire while sitting in the Sciencetology building entry with Guiseppe, my friend from the road, drinking green tea that we boiled over a mini-camp-stove, eating unhealthy pizza and smiling at the people who might see in us just two other homeless in the drowning overwhelmingness of the city. floating, never resting, with so much fickle past.

the breast of the Amazon Warrior

Kant says that anything done out of good will is the ultimate and only valuable in terms of morals. good will.
I don't cry out of good will. I smile, sit down at the table, put the fork, the knife, the salt and pepper and the napkin for me and my love on it. I salt my eggs and hashbrown, put butter on the bread, joke with Iglesias, the Italian, touch my love's hand lovingly...and hold them back. them tears from rolling...it s a deep urge to cry over my food, hair in my face, looking down at the earth: gravity.
Once I heard someone say that love is the only thing that can reverse gravity. that means, - oh pain - that you could fall out of love again, right? against the laws of gravity..?

As I was paying the food Iglesias stood next to me. He looked at me with this intriguing, investigating glance in his eyes, understanding, empathetic or do I only read this into him? He knows my love, they are good friends, teacher and student, and he knows us together.
I say, gulping the knot in my throat down, 'ah - (gulp) I want to.... go back to Europe....(gulp)'
I hear you, he says. I hear you. But then I laugh, jump over the floor in my childish ways, singing along with Bob Marley. Smiling, for free, it' s allright...allright....

He can't sleep in the camper anymore, something freaks him out about it. Thus I sleep with him in his car out of good will, and I let him make quick and rash love to me, on the passenger seat that I put down, trying to figure out when he cums (I hate condoms!) because he feels very bad when he comes quickly and doesn't always show thereof but I want this to be nice for him too, so hey, relax. all this, out of good will. I like it, that's not the point, but actually I am deep down very sad and wish he would treat me differently. I wish he would try to see my whole body, my being, that he would try to make me come, too, although it is not easy for me to let go, but hey, that's not a reason to stop trying right? I wish he wouldn't give up on things because it seems he can't do a perfect job. Better a little than nothing, dear.....
But out of good will I let all that happen and try not to be too disappointed, not too obvious, learn how to hide some things, like a real warrior has to learn to do.
I have time. He goes through a really bad patch right now, he will rise to his full power and full beauty and amazingness in due time. I know that and I believe in that. I've seen it....coming.....in his eyes, windows of his beautiful soul.....so loving, so good...

It's a tough school. The Amazon Warriors cut one breast in order to aim and shoot better. Let them teach me to be tough.

meeting point

do you know this feeling when in a split second seemingly entirely different threads come together in one knot?
you feel like on a crossroads, above you the wide sky. a cloud drifting by...
thread one:
all of the sudden he burst out: oh my god, this song is about YOU! it's my favorite song ever, since I am 7! it is about you, listen, do you listen? here, listen! listen to the lyrics......
:
Well she’s walking through the clouds
With a circus mind that’s running round
Butterflies and zebras
And moonbeams and fairy tales
That’s all she ever thinks about
Riding with the wind.

When I’m sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
It’s alright she says it’s alright
Take anything you want from me, anything
Anything.

Fly on little wing,
Yeah yeah, yeah, little wing

he looks at me, my hand in his. he doesn't see it, but I am holding my tears back. oh my love. but I smile, yes, too.
'maybe that's why I have loved you all these years' he says. we've met five months ago...

thread two:
in the very beginning he called me 'wild child' because I reminded him of this song:

All right, wild child full of grace
Savior of the human race, your cool face
Natural child, terrible child
Not your mother’s or your father’s child
Your our child, screamin’ wild
An ancient lunatic reigns in the trees of the night
Ha, ha, ha, ha
With hunger at her heels, freedom in her eyes
She dances on her knees, pirate prince at her side
Stirrin’ into a hollow idols eyes
Wild child full of grace, savior of the human race
Your cool face, your cool face, your cool face
Do you remember when we were in africa?

but one day he said that I am not really a wild child, I am more. but in reality I AM a wild child. that's why I got together with him in the first place; the fact that he saw and was okay with it..
and it is interesting that my wife said yesterday that she has the impression that I am not my mothers or my fathers child, but that I am parent to myself. that's why I put so much importance in whatever happens to me. treating myself like a child. hm...

thread three:
So I sit in the car with him, to pay his phonebill, he is broke, I have lots of financial aid money, so that makes me the bank, get over it already. manly pride *poof*
He says how funny it is that he hangs out with so many Italians these days. I say one day you'll live with me in Italy.
He says 'probably I am going to live in San Francisco. you know, some things are inevitable. I talked to G_____ about that yesterday. Some things are just inevitable.'
my heart grows heavy once more. the fatality of fate strikes me one more time.

thread four:
I remember how I thought recently, when he told me that he wants to become the greatest sound engineer and producer in the world, that breaking up with him would probably help him in attaining that goal. It would just drive him more into his work. It breaks my heart to think that. Does a supernatural goal demand such a human sacrifice? The sacrifice of a happy family? probably. think of Michelangelo, think of Napoleon, think of Nelson Mandela. Sacrifices all over the freaking place.

thread five:
then I think of what my dad said on the phone the other day: you have to decide what to do on the long run Piranha. not only the next three months. the energy to study goes by with a certain age. don't postpone it for too long. and you shouldn't leave the possibility to study in Europe entirely out of your plans. you know, there is a certain dynamics by being in America. (my wife too, mentioned that once, she said, it is like a drug...). There is nothing wrong with it, but at a certain point you have to decide whether or not you want to become an American or European. At some point it will be too late.

I think of my dream of a small little white house with a beautiful garden somewhere in the mediterrean Italy, living a simple family life there with my dear love.

and I cry and I smile in the same time,like the women in our family have done it as far as my memory reaches back: Tragic-Comedy is, when fate catches up with you.

Lullaby. (or: Tension)

the black spreads out like water circles when you drop little stones in a smooth lake.
'remember, quiet waters run deep and dirty' a quote from a book, maybe G.G. Marquez, echoing in her mind, hollow, dark, empty, memories shattered in the bottomless swiss cheese; her mind, - damp and raven black, rotting in the mist of self pittiance.
all those conclusions, illusions, delusions, allusions and other usions have lead to the finale of a great 'usions' parade: CONFUSION. the letters flaunting flawlessly with taunt and scorn, mocking the eternal attempts of manhood to decipher just about everything.
'ah' she sighs, 'to be or not to be? for me, today, on this sunny afternoon with Californian Palmtrees blinking and winking in the soft breeze that reminds me of soft ice, so different from the good old Italian ice cream but still good enough for a womans body drenched with bad mood hormones...so for me, today, the question would rather be: to be born or unborn. I'd rather be unborn. and what a cheesy procreation induced idea to follow the whole of humanity into the same trap by lending my womb to a person unborn. I will never do that. It is a crim against free spirit, binding it to matter, dragging it down...'

she lets the word dwindle down the washed out lines of repeated phrases, falls silent, hush, do you hear the lullaby.


as she looks out of the window, far up somewhere in the middle of the skyscraper that pets the clouds and tickles them occasionally, without any sexual intentions though, she sees black ravens drift by, somewhat lost, lurking with their little pale eyes that promise wisdom but always bring death. ultimately, the orgasm, the culmination of wisdom and many useless facts penetrated by sudden clairvoyance is the moment when with the last breath you escape the body, wiping off the soul on the way, mingeling with the winds to reach beyond the walls of our hollow rotten confused minds. And as you free yourself in those mystical ways that people only dared to speak in whispers of in the earlier days when there were still ways, as you free yourself you look back, probably, deciding to never let anybody know of the absolute gorgeousness you find there, because otherwise everybody would choose: unborn. and the heavenly grounds would be crowded....
she closes the window, sits down and draws.

A big black, quiet lake. with a dead raven, floating, belly and beak turned towards the skies.

A piercing shriek. A raven, looking directly into her eye.
A wind, a shudder.

Lullaby

the old man

'how many ways are there to lose yourself' she asked the old man in grey.
'how many ways are there to fuck myself up so I can bury myself like ashes in the ground.' and finally she said 'how can I see that I am a loser and not run away. - I am tired of fighting.'

so he turned around, all pale and ashgrey in his face, the dust coming out of every single pore in his face. 'losers suck' his voice trembling with fierce contempt. 'losers give up on themselves'.

he pointed with his walking stick made out of spinebones to the foggy horizon. 'losers don't see the difference between them and a warrior who just takes a rest in order to strike from an unexpected angle and in an unexpected moment to his advantage.'

and slowly he withered into the midwintersun, shining pale through the fog, illuminating both, his glassy bones and her pumping heart.

sweat dropping down right beside my feet. I lose my pasture, stumble and fall: Lost

lost

making love to him was supposed to make her feel found.
instead, she left with a vague feeling of nebulous uncertainty, sobbing insidly over his moving attempts to make her feel good, held, loved, cared for.
how can a person that lost make you possibly feel found.
there is no way

we have to




wait




and god helps those, who help themselves. how
convenient

thank you for yet another chance to stare into this abysses of loss and despair, confusion ; thank you for yet another chance to try to fill this abyss with love. love profusion

'I am still learning'

“The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark.”
Michelangelo, a great artist, born on the same day like yours truly...an inspiration, always has been, always will be: My dad and I read his biography instead of the bible when he prepared me for communion back in the days.
We went on a week long trip. The first half we hiked through the marble mountains near Carracas, Italy, read Michelangelo's biography and walked in silence. My dad used to say: A mountain climber does one thing at a time. When he shits, he shits, when he walks he walks, when he eats he eats...' Then I had this encounter with the bumble bee. A truly mystifying experience, comparable to initiation rites experiences in many tribes that I read of. Finding your animal.
Bumble bees fly although, scientifically they can't. They are too heavy. Isn't that marvelous???
Then we went to Firenze, Florence, my beloved sweet Firenze, the Duomo, the wonderful cathedral of the holy lady, the beautiful camping site in which birds woke me up with their amazing songs in the morning, the many churches, little streets, sculptures and paintings we visited in honor of Michelangelo and his beautiful city, my father always there for me to talk to me about whatever was burning in my heart. I was deep into philosophical and spiritual questions back then, in many ways closer to who I feel I am than now. It makes me almost cry and sigh.
But God's ways are strange but wonderful, I am still a big fan of life and curious as to what will happen in my 24 th year, being 23, a wonderful number, isn't it...

this is to honor my parents, on my birthday, which is their birthday

hello down there

i am high. like fuck.
ah again, those word puns. punch punch!
i think of how much I am in the mood for CRAZY love now! how much I wish you would suddenly stand in the door, walk up to me, take my hips into your hands and slowly but firmly pull me over to you, so I can feel you pressed against my back, holding me tight and soft in the same time...because i feel so hot and horny right now it is freakin hilarious.
what would i do, if i had my own place like this? I would spend days and nights in front of the fireplace, covering every inch of this building with our love. not to say with the juices of our love!
ah, yeahs, no worries no more...
i feel like dancing, batteling energies, female male principal. mentioning the 'little prince' by exupery, driving down the lane like you are nuts and pretending you don't want more than just a little bit of fun.
wild dancing nights in berlin. crazy. the mood in the early morning hours is definetely heavy from yearning and physical willingness to give in to the ever moaning rhythms of the sea called LOVE.

ah, you, you are so far away. why did I have to come here,, go there?
I don't know. my head weighs heavy down. all this i have never shared - with my friends.

there is so much more i would like to say now. things that sound witty and pretty gay and ingenious like.
but all i can say i am jealous of my cousin who got to have wild sex with a guy who couldn't come because of some substances in his blood that i don't know of, in a HOT TUB. now, how fucking hot is that? well, and who can tell me I shouldn't be JEALOUS of that?
i think of wandering birds and definite decisions you can make in your life.....

is this a dream or the dream?

why aren't you here to help me here. maybe i wouldn't be here then, if you were here. will we ever meet again?

i am afraid to lose you baby.
I am afraid to go too far
I am afraid to stay too close
I am afraid to lose myself

my head is heavy
longing weighs it down
my vagina crouches like a tiger and scrouches in my ear: i am in love with his little john.
i just laugh and cunningly cunnylingylingy :) don't be such a pervert

but i am so much in love with you. i really want you. i want you to want me completely.

lovexercise

as much as sex gets better with sexercise i believe love gets better with lovexercise.

the elixier of life is love and we have to consult the oldest and most ancient wise women and men, witches and magicians, to teach us the recipe how to prepare this elixier.

the curse of cellphones moldes the freshness of this sweet fruit, first of all. nothing is more diametrical against the flowering of sweet and deep rootened love than constant superficial splattering of words, dressed in sweet notions and oversugared or over bitterened repulses of verbal miscommunication as provided by cell phone companies who make a fortune by our misconceptions and misleaded thought of how much structural solitude we can bear.

bury the cell phones! burn them!

*of cousre I will keep mine. I am in the middle of this freakin civilization. the desease is so common that nobody really regards it as a desease anymore.*

open the gates to creativity filled with loving energy, secondly. convert this energy into something beautiful as ancestors teach us, don't get lost in your longings. if you feel like you don't even miss that person that much try to sublimate your feelings in fine art as to extract that elixier of love. life is one big distraction and it is easy to get over someone when you just try hard enough. you will realize whether or not this is the right person to spend your days with only by spending days with this person not by performing intellectual thought acrobatics in his physical absence.

love is in the air.

india.arie in the rooms. singing beautifull a truth that we all know: love. beauty. breathing. space. promises. words.

i sit in the sun fludded patio and read Gabriel Garcia Marquez "a hundred years of solitude". I will paint. and refrain from calling him like I am the one who stayed at home. He sounds all sober and disinterested and non-enthusiastic, no words of how he misses me , the 'i love you' sounds so casual.

damn them cell phones! I will go on a mission on searching for this elixier now and I will not give up making this a worthwhile beautiful endeavor!!!!!!!!

love letters late at night

My Love,
the sun went down behind the ever dreamy ocean and my heart is only with you.


















I LOVE YOU

family bonds

with the family of my mother's side it is a whole different issue. we DO have a bond, beyond doubts. and all the spouses who ventured to marry a K______ girl or guy have something very important in common: some crazy K______ genes floating around in their kids and grandkids....some crazy stories, inadvertedly inclusive...
being with my cousins is like hanging out with OLD friends, although i've seen them maybe like only four times in my life. no explanations really needed. no showing off, although our family is a whole show off circus. family meetings? ahhhh! everybody starts showing off. I hate it.

but i felt strangely excited that my love got to know some of my cousins. made me feel like....yeah, thats MY family, an important part of my life! you can get to know more about me when you get to know them....I love them. hanging out with my gorgeous looking and talented and wonderful charming cousins is so relaxing because it is SO casual. no worries. just friends. but no hidden dangers, no hidden bad boy intentions. talking about sex, they could be my best girlfriend. thats how it feels. being a K_____ is a special thing. stars could pop up in any corner. rebels and outcasts are programmed into the genealogy. aunts try to be crazy and hip. uncles try to be buddies. family clinch daily bread in Alaska. we, the European cousins, had a special status: no clinch really, because not close enough. what remains: THE BOND.

fuck fuck: what sucks

Well, first of all, I didn't suck his one eyed monster. nope. although I could have, I mean we slept in his car, it could have been all very good.
so fuck fuck: what sucks today is:

-I MISSED MY REGISTRATIONS APPOINTMENT YESTERDAY. read: i can't choose the privat teacher i want, i can't choose the electives I want. And i stood in line to get this date like at 6 AM. in the freezing californian cold. THAT SUCKS.

-I was horny like fuck. yeah, pun intended. sorry for being so direct. that's the German in me. And I suppose he was up for something too, but we had to go and do HOMEWORK. what the freaking eff! we wound up sitting at the cafeteria listening to Franco preaching to us about his religion 'holy pussy'. it was funny like hell but a waste of time, if you ask me. I mean I HAVE A PUSSY. why talk about it, when......you know...ahm, what I mean?

-I told my sister I would do the homeschool thing for another month and see how it works. I am AFRAID. that it won't work out. but, hey, i have time to worry about that later. but it DOES suck.

-I have to look for a room and THAT SUCKS. yeah.

-I have to apply NOW for colleges. WHEN? aaaaaaaaah!

-the Oscars are coming up. THAT SUCKS.

secret victory. victoria secrets?

oh, thats just a wordplay. the victory was secret but overwhelming.
the battlefield: inside myself.
what, tell me, what is sweeter than a victory that your antagonist doesn't know about? you let them belief that they won but they just didn't realize that the battle was fought somewhere else and on a different level and that you just, ahm, yeah, you fucking WON! you fucked their intentions! ah, sweet sweet making love to fucking intentions fuck fuck! hahaha.
you hear that laughter? the laughter of a nasty, SCHADENFROH, beast. the laughter of a relieved and relaxed worrier. not warrior, worrier, you read right. the laughter of the winner who was widely believed not to be capable of winning at all. beyond reason. that is ME.

the victory?

I DID NOT LET HER MANIPULATE ME ANYMORE. simple as that. i went through the raven valley of depression, of self doubts and hatred, of feeling like a loser and loosing control over my inner balance and insight. of everything. and then i came back, in the rain, and confronted you, a little sugar and you talked, no news really, but the good news was: despite what you said, you didn't bring me down anymore. that is gone.

oh, and in case you read that: you think wrong. i don't hate you. i love you more than you will ever know but there are things you will never understand and there is matter of factly not the need for you to do so. you will go on and I will go on but both we have to stay sisters and maybe one day we will realize that blood does or doesn't create bonds beyond petty hick hacks and blame games.

ah, well, how do we say in German 'once the reputation is spoiled you can do whatever you want'.

I care. I do. But not like it is stated in your fixed universe. so fuck me or fuck you, I won't fight back like you maybe want me to.

the best weapon is the unexpected one. the best weapon is to fight yourself. and when you win this fight nobody can harm you
anymore

'i wanna love you and treat you right...'

'All I want is to make you happy'

Having said this. Tell me, tell me, how do you want to make me happy?

I tell you something (*giggles* - whenever I say 'I tell you something' he says: 'oh oh, I am getting in trouble!!!' lol)
it's like saying 'please cum with me'. It puts a pressure on me. And of course I am not cumming then.... I am fucking depressed right now. I can't help it. I try not to let it out when I am around people and then you ask me why I am only depressed around you. Because you are my boyfriend, my lover, because I can be more myself around you than around them. That's kinda sad, huh?
It's a vicious circle. It frustrates you, makes you afraid that I'd leave without you, makes you feel bad, like you hold me back from being and doing stuff that d make me happy, makes you lessen the efforts to please me, make me happy. 'Because it's never enough, you won't ever be happy'

I sit back, think of my mother, how she never was truly happy. Is it that? Is it something bullshitty like that? A repetition of a pattern that I've seen all life long? Every day?

What makes people happy? When they are treated right, like Bob Marley sings in his song 'Is this love'. When they are loved, when they are centered, themselves, when they are at the right place at the right time.
However, if you demand that I am happy with anything you give me, or for that matter not give me, you basically demand me to be happy with the way you want me to be happy. I am happy when I can look at little amazing flowers with amazing colours. Haven't you noticed by now? You never bring me little flowers just for the heck of it.
Then I sit back and think 'man, maybe I demand too much. Maybe my standards are insanly high. Maybe i just should be humble and happy'. Well, that would be a good buddhist thing to be, right? And guess what, actually I'd be like that, but there is something that tells me that this little princess inside of me deserves a better treatment. But man, I love you so much for some freaking reason. Your breath on my belly makes me go insane. Your eyes filled with your dear soul make me fall all over in love with you. Your sweet way of being when we are relaxed together, your ways of making me love, the unnameable, that makes me love you so much. The memories of K___ doing all the things that I miss now with you make me sick.
You never bring oil and say 'you need a massage piranha'. As a surprise. I understand why: you have too many things to worry about yourself. Your body hurts more than mine. I should be the strong one, because I can be. See, I understand that, but still....you say, you gonna be more of a gentleman but I open all the doors by myself. There is this undeniable need inside of me that wants to be fulfilled: treat me like the queen I am and don't put me down for feeling that way! A woman deserved to be treated in the best way possible. I know that. Nobody can tell me that I am demanding too much. Do we have to lower our standards just because? I mean, the world would be immediately a better place, if we put more effort into our daily lifes.

I understand you are tired and barely able to keep yourself together. But then don't demand that I should be happy just because. I am at the wrong place with the right person. I apologize for being so dependend still on outer circumstances. I strive to find the balance within me. And that's exactly the point! I can only find it within me and you can't really help with that. That's my part of the way. We'll meet in the middle. All you need is me to be happy. I need a lot more. I need the right surroundings to be happy. I need this and that and lalala, and one day, I promise, I'll strip all down to my inner balance that I can maintain by myself. But until then -

I DON'T FAKE!

whiny bitch

well there is only one thing i can't stand, piranha, he said.
what's that??
that you always compare Europe with America, you rub it in the face of the people, that makes you really appear arrogant, you know? I've never heard you saying how gorgeous Berlin is, period. You always have to compare it. It get's on my nerves. You know thats one thing about Europeans, they are all so fucking arrogant. They come here and talk the whole time about how much better it is over there. What the fuck? I mean, thats like telling a person without arms how gorgeous it would be for him if he could only play basketball. You get the point? I hate it here, too! I fucking hate it! I don't want to be here, but a lot of people, including me right now, can't get away. So, what's your point? making them feel bad? please....

I look at him. Man, yes, I don't really want to be a whiny arrogant bitch who makes others feel inferior, disadvantaged, bad...- if you know what I mean. Who would want to??? The question is maybe rather, who would care to... But I admit, I talk a lot about these things, but then again, I can't talk about pop culture really without embarrassing myself because of my lacking knowledge of names, dates and according bits of entertainment, art or whatever. And pop culture is like, the main thing I hear people talk about, at least at my school, naturally....... - Talking about spiritual things, about basic opinions, won't have me compare Europe and America too much darling. It's just, these everyday things, i can't help it. For example, this so called chocolate croissant here, in front of me. GARBAGE! In any shitty store in Berlin I would find better stuff. Denny's, your beloved Denny's for example. I understand that you love it because you love shrimpp and it's cheap and you have tons of memories connected to Denny's, like being high as a kite and fulfilling the craving for food and what not, but, seriously, I. DO. NOT. LIKE. IT.
Then you say no matter what, you can't make me happy anyways, it's never enough.
Ah.
That sucks, honestly. I hate the plastic plate they gave me with the croissant. I hate this ignorance. All that. Aah. Maybe I am just homesick like fuck and this is the result. I hate the clinic sterile atmosphere in this freaking cafe. No coziness. Oh god, I am really not really happy here. I could never live here. Yesterday night when we went out with your italian friend/teacher, you got so mad because we were revelling in the beauty of Europe and Italy and all that.

Maybe you are afraid to lose me to Europe. But you could come along. Maybe you would understand me, if you went there and came back.

The point is, if an American would come to Europe and complain about shit everybody would nodd understandingly: he is homesick. But NOBODY would get fucking offended or think he is arrogant. They would think he is ignorant hahaha. In their arrogance they would think 'poor American, we were right, they are complete idiots!' Maybe I am too attached to my cultural background, maybe I am too unflexible to embrace another culture. But matter of factly, I embraced enthusiastically the Russian culture, I will freak out in South America and Africa, I know that already. But there is nothing here, that can freak me out in a good way.

Except for you honey.

resurrection

a whirl of tearsome emotions dragging you into the black hole.
scientifically proven, existing, out there in the universe, and you know, you know, staring into the sky, staring into the noise of palmtrees in the dark wind that macrocosm equals microcosm, that the atoms and the sun systems all circle and evolve and that black holes also exist within your soul
...
mini death, if you will, a pressure that turns into oppression, a helpless effort to create order, to regain control, to empower your self, destroyed in clear morning light, naive illusionary hopes shattered at the ground, right under your feet and you sigh and you oppress this sobbing and this lake of tears from breaking through the wall and you resign, yes I AM A LOSER.
...
finally, eventually, you feel how the whirl is too strong to resist anymore, the powers of gravity take care of the rest, you feel how you are torn apart and torn into this hole and in a last attempt you rear up, squall, into the obliterated colours of the passing world, you yell the name of someone who might reach out and hold you mid fall, someone, who might understand you and not drag you down in the good willed assumption of helping you by bringing you back to some weird nasty negative reality that you never wanted to be part of in the first place.
sobbing, crying, bawling, wailing, searching for words and you realize they are burnt out, don't exist anymore, you are completely illiterate, you don't know anymore, YOU JUST DON"T KNOW ANYMORE.
sister, sister, come closer to me. hold me. promise me. that everything is gonna be allright. that i am allright. that i am okay. that i will be okay. please. pray with me. the mantra. i am okay. okay...okay....
...
from an entirely different angle from my planet, from a completely different person comes finally the unexpected hand to help: a long talk, an understanding mind and encouraging words.

oh, man, human psyche is so.... unpredictably predictable. too easy to be understood. too easy....

i laugh. cautiously at first, then relieved: resurrection is unbelievable. unbelievably - easy?

you, my heart, speaking

drain-rain. why is it so exhausting to cry? an afternoon passed by. sobs and snodder, folded up in my cellphone, sweater dirty, wings slacking, shoulders sacking, thought entangled in an old shoe.

tears from heaven. is heaven inside? i didn't find it in the sky. it was blue, a tired sad American flag dragging in the sky. i really live off the scale. off from what so many perceive as their world, always themselves as the center point, no matter what, whether or not you want it, I want it, we want it. Fleeting in doubts, anchoring in hopes and faith, dreaming away losing the I, drafting thoughts, reaching for medication, trying to cure the curse of the I, drugs expanding, corrupting your soul...
.
a small little flower. incredible purple. insane, how nature came up with all these gorgeous things.
is that a hawk on the church tower?
he looked through his sunglasses and said it is a fake one.
teardrops on the floor. are you stoned? or did you cry.
tears from heaven.

write your love inside my shivering soul. clinch your raw claws into my heart. eat it alive. carve your words into the emptiness that the rain left behind, cleansing and washing away what meaningless bushfires burnt and left behind.

yes, father, I know the difference between.
between
desire. lust. inclination.
and
rules, obligations, systems of belief

inbetween
is the voice
you, my heart, speaking.

grinning fate spins chain of bad luck

I LOVE THOSE DAYS! or better those NIGHTS!
ahh, good good good, don't you absolutely LOVE it, when fate plays jokes on you? you feel like you've been rewarded with chains of bad luck like tourists with flowers in Hawaii.
yeah.

against all natural inclination and feelings I kick myself in the ass, take the convertable mercedes without a deck that my sister got god knows where. Ignoring the dark clouds that surround LA like Sioux stupid white settlers back in the days I drive all the way to Hollywood, pick up my friend K____ and take her into the HOllywood Hills, the Mulholland drive, all that good stuff. Admiring the amazing amazing view and sweet mediterranean like houses in the hills I wonder how it took me four months to come up here. I am such an ignorant bitch, to name it for once. I could still not tell you the difference between different amps, let alone guitars, I am walking through the world with a lack of attention to things that is rediculous. Well, maybe I am not walking anyways, maybe i am just floating like a real lazy piscies should. *shakes head* Thats why I don't have a car yet, That's why i don't have the CD's I actually would like to have, this is why I don't have a lot of clothes or anything, because I am just lacking interest and motivation to find out. However, to take a stance for myself right here, I do know a lot of people on Hollywood Blvd and anywhere else. I might not remember the street names or your name and all that but I do remember the encounters and I do love you.
So back to my amazing story. K____ talks me into coming to her house, - ah, just because her roommate is gone. Usually she doesn't invite me. So I hang out there with her and listen to her crazy stories, and it s fun but I feel the whole time I should actually be by myself and go. But my heart is as soft as butter so I can't just leave. Too bad for me. Finally I go and find my car wet. I forgot to cover it and I forgot it could rain. LA really deludes you. Plays nice weather for ever just to stabb you in the back.....
then A__ calls me and as I have turned her down so many times in the past I stay with her too. Fuck. The dogs. I need to walk the dogs.
a few hours later I decide I really have to go now. It s almost midnight. I am very worried about the dogs.
I go to my car, it started raining again, it pours down. I can't possibly drive in a convertable without a top in pouring rain. FUDGE. okay, cellphone, addressbook, nobody there. none of my friends can help. my love doesn't pick up his phone. I don't want to ask anybody for anything anyways. I HATE THAT. I would do anything for anyone but for myself...I can't. Maybe I should get over it huh? The only friend I really feel free to ask for favors like that is out of town. Haha. FATE. MAN! are you joking????
Anyways, I am a big girl, always been, I can take the bus. Taxi? too convenient. too expensive. I despise those lazy Los Angeleros who don't know how to use the bus. I don't care what they say about how dangerous it is. Matter of fact I grew to love the bus. The personas there are just the killer dope material for songs and paintings.
My bag is broke, it is raining in my bag. Where are your friends when you need them most?
Ahhh. I allow myself a taxi at least to the bus station. In the bus I fade in and out, have horrible dreams of falling asleep while driving and crashing into cars. Finally my love calls back. Too late darling. Fuck. I am in a bad mood. Very bad, don't wanna put it on him. At least i don't have to ask him 'where where you when i needed you most?' because he says that himself. good.
and then i start laughing. because it is so funny how like, everything EVERYTHING seems to go wrong at the same time! and all that just because i didn't listen to that feeling inside of me.

i tell you dear fellas, this inner voice has NOTHING to do with convenience, lust, desire, inclination or any of that like NOR does it have anything to do with outer obligations.
it doesn't. it is the voice that tells you to do what is right in the purest sense. despite outer or inner influences. I have tested that out in many occasions and yeah, funny sucker stories like that are the outcome.

i went into a donut store and thats when the thing flipped. An ambulance guy started talking to me, how i was etc. I laughed and said, i won a chain of bad luck and guess what, he gave me a ride home (sparing me a 15 min walk in the rain and night) and when I came here somebody already had so much compassion for the dogs to put them into their house.

so my love. it s not that i am mad that you are with your cousins, keeping your promise to hang out with them. i just think it is rediculous that you do that while my sister is still gone. it s like, man, a waste of time. but in the same time it s like, man, if you had been here i wouldn't have had anything to blog about. so - thank you! :)

yeah.

obsessed

ahh, it sucks.
yes, another complaint post dear bloggas and bloggarinas who stumble across this.
it s funny how things that you never deem to be important at all when they happen, have the habit to haunt you for weeks and weeks to come.
so I sit there with two guy friends (American friends, that is mere aqcuaintances for German comprehension of friendship) in a cafe and at some point this guy mentions that an erected dick is as long as the hand of the guy attached to that dick.
now i find myself looking at every guys hand that i meet and my mind plays all those nasty tricks on me, trying to imagine how long this dick in erected state would be and how it would look like. yuck!

i tell ya, fellas, talking about annoying, that is freaking a n n n o y i n g with three 'n's!!!

rediculosity

rediculous: i am in AMERICA, I have a boyfriend i am in LOVE with and we both don't feel like celebrating Valentine's day really... Me, who always advocates for putting an effort into things so they become memorable, eternal... Me, who always speaks up for the importance of beauty and celebration to make a point against all those grey and angry vibes in this world.

redliculous: how K___ carries a rose around 'just in case' for valentines day. for who? he brought me a little rose long ago, and earrings.

rediculous: how i wish secretely that my love still would MAKE sth for me on said day. what abour ear rings?

rediculous: how i coudln't really be happy about the earrings my ex boyfriend in Berlin MADE for me.

rediculous: how the gras is always greener on the other side

rediculous: how you repeat patterns that your parents lived through

rediculous: me believing EVERY month again that my period is due in about a week when I actually just am about to get it. All the fighting, all the fuzz, all the tears, all the irritation, all the chocolate and ice cream and late night spaghetti with egg splurgings, all the accusations, all the frustration, all the clumsiness: explicable! face it! you are a woman! you get your period every freaking 28 days or so! look in the sky, is the moon full or isn't it, he? ah. stupid.

rediculous: me not acknowledging to be PMSing. if i would face it for once, I could maybe start behaving extra super cautious during those days. so what happesn if i don't: i leave the house with the wrong keys, lock the door, my cellphone with all teh numbers IN the house. then, the car doesn't start, me: close to freaking out and breaking down, sobbing, calling my love, waking him up for no reason actually, taking the bus, coming late to class

in the end it was so rediculously bad that i just couldn't help but laugh about it

rediculous: me standing in front of my locked door, my sister +family in germany in BERLIN (aaaaaargh!) the landlord not having extra keys, me in a skirt without underwear, feeling sth warm and wet dropping down my knee realizing that i bloody have my period bloody bleeding hell wah! and me, outside my house without panties, without nothing, just the bloody cramps in my stomach. yuck. thats REDICULOUS and happens only to clumsy piscie piranhas like me.

word!!!

should i? the box of pandora

is that all?
he looked at me, with this terrible look in his face, worried, deeply moved, in anticipation of sth horrible maybe.
yeah, i mumbled. jay and this guy in new york. hell there was no guy in new york. there were three guys here, including jay, you are the fourth dany. you are the first i love. in a VERY long time. isn't that enough? isn't that all we need to know?

how can a mind that is afraid love? krishnamurti again. I ask the same. how?
feeling like i have to make up my mind and evaluate the whole situation makes me somewhat sick. i love him. it is what it is. i've come a long way. just because i slept with guys without being in a relationship with them doesn't make me a piece of flesh, of ass. maybe to andi i was. but i won't get into that now. i did not tell him everything, having the voice of my wife still in my ear 'you just don't tell him, basta!' -never!

but it s different for me. i hate lies. i hate half truths. i don't like it. but maybe i have to accept that something i truly never can share. not in words. but thats horrible, it freaks me out. i wish i could tell him everything. but then again, only talking about sex in weird places made me so sick already. and him too. why should we torture each other.
still. i feel so bad now and i seriously considered and thought about whether or not i maybe just give him the url to my blog. which would be hell of a trust issue for me and maybe it would be a very bad decision. i mean, again, people who know me might mistake a lot of what i write. man. what should i do? do you think it is a bad idea? like opening the box of pandora, fully knowing that it holds all the peril and evil of this world.....
it s like, man, he will and should take me for who i am. why nourish illusions? but the problem is, humans are so apt to judging too quickly. this means that and that and that. the underlying motifs, reasons, motivations, intentions, are never really revealed. so although he should take me, and also KNOW piranha, my dark side of the moon, maybe i shouldn't let him read it in details. like, he might get drowned in the ocean of details. terrible.
it s similar to how i feel about his past. i don't want to know details. i don't wanna know that he fucked many girls and regrets it. i don't wanna know, especially about drugs and the ways he deals with his problems, like drinking them away, as his cousin claims to whom I once talked secretely. thats the most difficult part for me. i simply don't want to.

should my love be able to digest piranha???

intuition. aaah. feel the music, love, feel it!

do you know this feeling when you aim to hit the basketball basket and once the ball has left your hands you know exactly that this will hit it perfectly? you just know it. it's a feeling of certainty that is irrational in a way but trustworthy.

the same goes for guitar soloing. you just know that this note is gonna be the right note - and you lean back, throw your head in your neck, let your heart feel the upcoming note and play it with all your passion. that is, when you know for sure that this is the exact right note to express exactly what you feel in the stream of music you are in.

ahhhh.

verry, verry good, my darling...

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

apparently...this whole thing here, going to school, does to me, what i hoped it would. i was so horrible in the beginning and so shy

song

there i sit
fighting the tears
raindrops forgotten
when the wind comes

last night i was high
and i came over rollin hills
but my passion was hidden
wrapped in blind imagination

there is nothing as tragically sad
as this realization
i wish it would go by
and leave me alone
i never asked it to come around

hit me hard
in the face
heart's turned upside down
i can't lack this now

strange reactions
like giving less out of fear not to suffice
strange strange people
i still do love

looking outside
there is no rain
sunshine is drying
my wicked brain

last night
i've been alone
in good company like always
when my heart is in tune

eternal waves
of crushing sadness
i wished so much
that this would be flawless
that this would be worth it
after all

pps hahaha

okay, ahm, other?
like no other (bling ding ding ding? tokka tokka tokka, thats the music right now on the radio)
i mean, should i bother? nother mother?
gather. other?lother? forther. okay
morpher
maybe we should all arabic lernen. tralala. and islamic wissenschaften and old ziegen and all das. yeas yes yes
maeh

haha although i know that this will read very strange tomorrow i m gonna post that. just for the fun of the lameness of it. you know?
like you wanna get stoned? no. moaned. not stoned. haha
god if ...