lachrymose

displeasing manky lachrymose emeralda: stop whining.
it's all good. Morcheeba whispers stories of lives yet unlived into your ear and your lullaby is the sky.
you can move on. no matter where. just - why don't you move on already.
displeasing, manky, lachrymose emeralda.

zoo tiger

like a tiger in a zoo. restlessly pounding the same few square meters back and forth, trying to not show the quivering waves of pain that are sending their armies of tears through my soul. bob dylan is the soundtrack, it soothes a little bit and makes it all the worse in the same time. 'it's all over now baby blue'. a helicopter in the sky. somewhere a criminal, running, breathing heavily, trying to hide. it's even more difficult to run and hide from yourself. courageously facing it. face down, knees to your nose. my toes curl but not in ecstasy - in the attempt to get back in control. to monitor the despair, to give myself a chance to breathe. why is it so difficult. restlessly wandering back and forth. what to do? practice. find a job. get the financial aid stuff done. do all these things. and when i look at the watch again, it is already one hour later. how fast the time runs. without you. so i write a message saying:

i miss you in my life. its the biggest loss to not have you as an
every day partner anymore, that i think i ve ever experienced. its
liberating in a very incomplete sense. because no matter what i do
something is missing. a weird mix of pain and smiles, gratefulness and
regret fill that missing space. all i do is pray for each of us my love
to do the right thing. to find the right way. to be close to God every
minute of the day and the nights without each other.

it is the biggest loss i've ever experienced, when i think about it, yes it is. for real. the biggest loss in my short life....it was the biggest love, too...so it's only fair, no????? oh. my. hm. oh God.. well, well, well.

'you must leave now, take what you need you think will last. but whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast. yonder stands your orphan with his gun. crying like a fire in the sun. look how the saints are coming through. and it's all over now baby blue. -the highway is for gamblers better use your sense. take what you ve gathered from coincidence. the empty handed painter from your streets is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets. the sky too is folding under you. and its all over now baby blue. - all your sea sick sailors they are rowing home. your empty handed army is going home. your lover who just walked out the door has taken all his blankets from the floor. the carpet too, is moving under you. and it's all over now baby blue. - leave your stepping stones behind now something new calls for you. forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you. the vagabond who is wrapping at your door is standing in the clothes that you once wore. strike another match go start anew. and its all over now, Baby Blue.' bob dylan

white comfort zone

this is my last refuge. other than pathetic, sobbing songs in the obscurity of the night I have returned to writing more and more as it is less pathetically heart throbbing than those songs, trust me with that.
it is a white comfort zone in which i pour this pain that hits me from behind all of the sudden, again. it cools down, like hot honey in snow and just like honey candy as my mom used to make it way back in the days in rural Alaska (is that a joke or something? almost all of Alaska is 'rural' lol) it freezes to a certain form, influenced by gravity, physics, the one who pours.
I pour. I just came back from watching a movie with my neighbor. He cooks a lot and invites us every now and then, today he had rice with egg. Cuban food. I am enjoying myself, watching the movie and all that, no doubt. But in reality, my love, i don't. you ask me to be happy and i ask you do mean without you? and you say yes. i know i can be happy dont worry about that. but right now it just hurts. i cry
i cry for this loss i feel. the loss of a love that has been so special in the most profound way: it was a one in a million coincidence that we met and fell for each other like this. to be loved like you loved me and to be able to love you back as i loved you is a miracle. it is a contemporary miracle. all we did could have been better and probably is done better right now somewhere. but it is not the actual facts. it is the power behind those facts. it is our souls intertwined in love. and i love you so much and i cant bear the thought to be without you in my life. nothing makes really sense. i guess that's a common feeling when people just break up. i dont care. it hurts so bad. we both dont want it. maybe you are stronger than i and you just do what is needed. ah God.
to go out into the world and help. without you? to watch movies. without you? to cook. without you? to eat. without you? to take a shower. without you? to go food shopping. without you? to be. without you?
the white comfort zone feels cold. it is freezing cold. my tears burn holes into the snow. my tears freeze to ice on my cheeks. my heart burns in loves unrequited pangs
and in tears i smile because i just spit out the words 'unrequited pangs' without consciously knowing what they meant. they mean, however, eaxactly what it feels like.

we lost

the sense of adventure.
it was such a great adventure. it was an exploration. and then all of the sudden it came to the point that things needed to work out. no exploration no more. working it out.
i always hated gyms. I hate working out. I do occasionally but I rather run through a canyon and get naturally fit. I like to explore little creeks, and listen to birds and try to melt into the environment.
i miss you with such a fierce passion that it hurts. i miss the opportunities. the exploring. the lost adventures.

where is my mind: pixies deja vu

so there are the pixies. first time i heard about them was when what was his name, the dude that visited for a weekend and Elissa made love to him and we were sitting in the backyard of my Basel apartment and I sang a beautiful song into the night sky about Elissa and my friendship. then there is Berlin. Bernadette. Beautiful. She and I in the artstudio 'Welt-Urlaub' painting until late. You can't imagine this unless you have been there. Three most intense weeks of my life there in berlin. How she took a drag of my mango cigarette. gay, yes. but the image still was breath takingly beautiful there is nothing you can do about that. talk about cliches and how stupid. it still filled me with a strange joy of beauty in her. Viola and I danced there when she visited me. We danced our way through the countless paint bottles, empty glassbottles to hold water to mix colors, brushes, wood, metal, screwdrivers, and a fantastic musicstation that was cleverly set up by Erik the crazy punk painter who thought a day was gone by uesless until he started some trouble in some bar. During daytime he would take care of old people. Said, the Ethiopian artist had his 'wedding-village for the cultures' downstairs in the backyard. His sculptures in silence said more than anything I've ever seen. At nights a little campfire glowed in the middle of the big city and we were part of it. He died of cancer a couple of months ago. - I have to go back. I have to go back but I most probably can't. Or shouldn't. It won't be the same. It was strangely beautiful. I had a life there. Now I have a life here but I am the verge of leaving that, too, behind me. Trying to dance my way through the countless weird things that life presents to me along the way. it is a chapter and then it is over. And I am an adventurer, still. Ah, and you take whatever is important you over into the next chapter. There are a couple of things I'd like to take with me. And still have to do. Today I had this strange feeling, that after I told him that I think we have to this trip together, it would never happen. I just knew it. And of course I denied the relevance of this intuition because I didn't like it. But, as I have stated several times before, intuition (at least mine) is never about convenience, never about what you desire, want or feel like. Most of the time it asks you to do things that you actually dont' feel like doing. Like this trip for example. I really want it. And I think you can make certain things happen and should try to do so and put effort into things. But sometimes you can battle only so hard against intuition - it will still win. I am surprised each time, all over again.
then there is my red-haired wife. Klodi. Good old times. With my Gypsy love. Ah. Where is my mind. Tying lose ends together, weaving new ones. Where is my mind. This too was an adventure, a good and beautiful one. I don't have enough distance yet to clearly see the picture but it was all worth it. Every drop of salty water and joyous sparkles. I can't explain it really but I know that I will find. Still. I just have to move on. And I never bothered about where I'd move onto. It could have been an emotional move, a move that to outsiders would look like settling down. Compromising. But I never did. I did what I wanted. And that was us.
Where is your mind. I told you I would take good care of it. But now I think that life is ridiculously doomed. And I am gonna dance. And although I might say that you jump to conclusions and then burn everything down, just like us, it might sound angry, for sure, but most probably I will one day say: he knew and it was all good...
oh damn. where, where is my mind.........on a loop. in the water, out there, swimming...

and it s just one more proof that my director of our 8th grade theater play 'the Dragon' by Jewgeni Schwartz was more than right when she said in her final speech that she delivered to us when celebrating the derniere:
One thing I wish I could relay to all of you real close to your heart: Never do anything 50 %. Never. Do everything, every little thing for 100% and it will always be worth it. Always.

We better try to live up to that. Chapters do end.

FUCK

FUCK I FREAKED OUT
i just lost it.
and now i roll around on the dirty floor and just can't stop beating the dust out of it with my flat hand because i am so devastatedly mad at myself. i fucking cry because i am so mad. i fucking love him man and i just lost it. i just did exactly what i MUST NOT DO. i freaked out on him. that's what he CANT take. i know it. i know it. just because he sounds better and happier it doesn't mean i can blow his brains out to just throw him back into this abyss.
i FUKCING HATE MYSELF

morning

i wake up and i think about you. so i call you and i wish you would hold me in your arms right now.
in the background is your little cousin, she is adorable, she sounds adorable, and she makes you laugh. it makes me happy in turn to hear you laugh and it sounds like a real laugh you know? i again have the feeling of spying into this other life from outer space, through a sound-tv and fascinated i just lie in bed and listen to you guys. i am jealous of her. but there is nothing i could do. maybe i will buy a car and just come by to ask you whether you would come with me on a trip.

because that's what is so wrong, i realized that yesterday night: we wanted to go travel. And we still have to. That's a thing that was there from the start and there is no way i can let go unless that has taken place. we need to go and travel together.

even if it would torture me.

break

what are you doing?
I can't sleep. I am thinking about you.
gay! - uh, no, actually i have the same problem.
can i ask you something?
yeah, go ahead.
well, to keep the tradition of quoting songs alive: were all the things you told me 'lies out of fear to lose a could-be dream-lover of a lifetime'?
no. leave me alone Emeralda, I don't wanna talk about this.
did you realize, that you did everything to me, that you were ever afraid of I would do to you?
Like what?
Like kissing someone else or leaving me. Matter of fact you left exactly at the time that you were afraid I would leave.
I never left anywhere.
You did.
No I did not leave Emeralda
But you said it is over my love. You said thank you for the great time and the great memories and that it is over.
Did I say that?
Why couldn't you take a break, why did you have to end it?
I thought that was what we were doing. Taking a break.
--*baffled*
I really don't wanna talk about it.
It's just that I needed to tell you that I felt very undramatically that it feels just wrong for some reason. I need to know what you think about it. Because if it is what I thought it was I have to admit that it feels very very terrible. You have no idea. I promised you not to cry on the phone and all that, but it does feel very terrible.
I know
I don't want you to feel obliged in any way. it's just that I need to have the clarity and I am sorry if I ruin yet another of your nights. I just can't take it it's too much right now not to know.
I don't know Emeralda
I can take way more than that. You know that It's about the last bit of hope which to kill is very cruel. If we take a break we can see organically what will happen without killing that little bit of hope.
I love you Emeralda. *whipsers* I always will
I love you too Mr. D

And a smile emerges in my little heart.

wrong

so i come back from that stupid rehearsal that in the end even didn't happen. great. tired i lay down on the couch and just drift away in my thoughts, tired as i am. there is no more drama. i had a wonderfully soothing conversation with the red haired lady (the other one) and i am just too tired, there are no more tears right now.

calmly i just reflect on you and how wonderful you are and how much i wish you could enjoy me just like that. i look wonderful tonight. yet another waste of beauty. it doesn't happen to often, that I feel beautiful like that. You are missing.
but even that doesn't bring the flood of salty tears back. I am just feeling it.

and then all of the sudden I feel how. it is simply wrong.
It just feels wrong somehow. there was something more. i can't put my finger on it. we were supposed to be together for at least another year. there was a lot. we shouldn't let a book take over. surrender to songs.
it feels wrong

just wrong

and this, i am serious, without the least sense of drama or tragedy. it just does.

thank you

you are inspiring and i called you instead of him.
i was at the verge of crying, again, it came over me in the middle of a living room with a huge flat screen tv and a couple of computers and guitars from a dude that i don't know, we were here to practice for that coverband thing and watched some Beyonce DVD. Ridiculous.
So I pretended to get a phone call and went out into the humid hot summer-valley-night.
Don't call him I told myself, don't call. Ok. so i called you and your voice was just - so soothing.
So: wow, it's so awesome that you actually exist! You are so comforting to know. So warming. So adorable and so loving. I love your red hair, I love your enthusiasm - your curiosity is mystifying.
I love how you embrace love, I love how you unfold your wings and with a smile and beautiful laughter hop on that sailing ship, just taking the chance. It is good to have a person like you in this crazy town. Your loving voice, so understanding, just embraced me through the stupid cellphone and I felt how the flood retreated in time, once more, waiting for another weak moment to break through. But it was so good to talk to you and to be encouraged to handle the situation exactly the way I do. To embrace the pain and not to run away.
Thank you Sweetie. You are a whirlwind, so refreshing. Your voice is a well, quenching my thirst in the saddest night. Your sparkle is inspiring. I am sure you will light his candle, baby, he will not resist you and you won't be too much for him if he is meant to be with you.

it IS good and useful and meaningful that women bond and are girlfriends. there are some things that only women can solve amongst themselves.

my red haired lady :)

the worst and most beautiful

is, to cook, it is hard enough to just do that. cut garlic for example. it kills me. but i do it anyways. i never cook anything that we ate though. maybe there will be a time later in the future that i can do that and actually rejoice that but right now it is too much. it is too much to walk into the bathroom and think about how gorgeous you look with your hair up when you are about to take a shower. how beautiful you looked with wet hair (you dreaded that and almost always managed to keep your fro dry...but that first time in the motel, it was so beautiful...you looked exactly like a prince to me my love) and all that.
it is good we changed the living room. too bad that with the new bed couch i nourished hopes for us to spend some nice quiet hours on that couch. but it s okay. i can deal with it. so i cook stuff for my pita (thats the new way of eating) and lay afterwards down, listening to Bob Marley: innocent, unloaded summer time music.
I didn't think about Buffalo Soldier though. the first chords and something jumps on my chest and presses all air out of it: how the fuck can somebody have so MANY tears? where do they all come from? do i have to drink extra much water now? what about the salt? do i have to eat more salt now?
as I am lying there i allow myself to drift away:
the worst and most beautiful: you were the one person in my (admittedly short) life, who I wanted to introduce to EVERYBODY I love. That's why I TOLD everybody about being in love with you. I wanted you to meet my parents, my siblings, i even wanted you to meet Christel, who died when I was twelve.
I don't know what happened over the course of time. did I give you as much as I should have? wanted?
where are the fucking should haves? It is because of a poem about 'should haves' that I took your hand this first night on Hollywood Blvd.
I shouldn't have talked to Steve again.
I should have created a home for you
I should have gotten an apartment for us
I should have bought a car so you could have worked and we could have led the life that we wanted to for the next year.
I should have not get angry at you when you come in a break to play my guitar. I should have just jumped up and sing for you (why didn't I dare to do that anyways?) and whisper in your ear how much I adored and loved you.
I should have never hurt you if I did, I am so incredibly sorry.

I want to cry in the morning, in the night, in class, everywhere. I am a sobby mess. It hurts real bad. I want so much more. Just a last time to the beach. maybe another year? another life?

Man. I wanted so bad that Christel hadn't died and could see you. I was so absolutely positive that she would love and adore you just as I do. I was sure she would see the prince in you. Oh my God.

angel

you woke me up
oh i am sorry
what's up, why are you calling it's late!
I am thinking about you
Oh really? Well, um, I hope at least nothing bad..?
NO! I love you! You are like my angel. There is nothing bad about you...
Hm. Um, yeah, well, That's good, I mean, that there is nothing bad floating around in space for me...
Hm.
So you are still in San Francisco
Yeah, until Wednesday
Is it cold
No actually it's hot.
Dude, when I was there, it was SO cold! I thought it'd be hot and didn't have any jackets or anything but then there was the spare the air day and all public transportation for free and i took the ferry to Sausalito and....(*talktalktalktalk*) Maybe I'll move up here.
Yeah LA really sucks.
But there are several things that could happen to keep me in LA...
You are really something else Emeralda.
Hm. Um.
I love you Emeralda. I love you.
--
--
Well, maybe you should go to sleep now.
Yeah it's late
You can call me when you are back
Okay. good night Emeralda
Good night and have a good dream.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------
((It is weird, all that happening in one night. my head hurts terribly from crying so deeply. my eyes hurt. my heart hurts. my soul hurts but it is strangely quiet all of the sudden. like after a storm.
and then this...why did he choose to tell me that he loves me exactly in THIS night, of all nights? why am I HIS angel too? For how many people will we be an angel? I know I am certainly not...It hurts too bad. Angels don't feel pain.
it is so weird. at first i wanted to take his love declaration as a casual 'love you!' but he was pretty clear and serious about it. Oh my. Oh my. What's going on in this world?))

song prescriptions: ballad in plain D by Bob Dylan

okay so i get it. you knew it from the start. you still told me i am your family all you have and you want all of my love and will never have enough. you lead me into belief, that you are scared i would leave you. i know myself better now: i wouldn't have. my loyality goes beyond the stars. but i hate and i love how those songs indeed were so right and in the same time so dooming.
and now i understand the title of your mail 'timeless explosion to fantasy's dreams'
you always spoke in quotes from those songs you loved.
here i found it and yes it sounds very much like us:

I once loved a girl, her skin it was bronze.
With the innocence of a lamb, she was gentle like a fawn.
I courted her proudly but now she is gone,
Gone as the season she's taken.

Through young summer's breeze, I stole her away
From her mother and sister, though close did they stay.
Each one of them suffering from the failures of their day,
With strings of guilt they tried hard to guide us.

Of the two sisters, I loved the young.
With sensitive instincts, she was the creative one.
The constant scapegoat, she was easily undone
By the jealousy of others around her.

For her parasite sister, I had no respect,
Bound by her boredom, her pride to protect.
Countless visions of the other she'd reflect
As a crutch for her scenes and her society.

Myself, for what I did, I cannot be excused,
The changes I was going through can't even be used,
For the lies that I told her in hopes not to lose
The could-be dream-lover of my lifetime.

With unknown consciousness, I possessed in my grip
A magnificent mantelpiece, though its heart being chipped,
Noticing not that I'd already slipped
To a sin of love's false security.

From silhouetted anger to manufactured peace,
Answers of emptiness, voice vacancies,
Till the tombstones of damage read me no questions but, "Please,
What's wrong and what's exactly the matter?"

And so it did happen like it could have been foreseen,
The timeless explosion of fantasy's dream.
At the peak of the night, the king and the queen
Tumbled all down into pieces.

"The tragic figure!" her sister did shout,
"Leave her alone, God damn you, get out!"
And I in my armor, turning about
And nailing her to the ruins of her pettiness.

Beneath a bare light bulb the plaster did pound
Her sister and I in a screaming battleground.
And she in between, the victim of sound,
Soon shattered as a child 'neath her shadows.

All is gone, all is gone, admit it, take flight.
I gagged twice, doubled, tears blinding my sight.
My mind it was mangled, I ran into the night
Leaving all of love's ashes behind me.

The wind knocks my window, the room it is wet.
The words to say I'm sorry, I haven't found yet.
I think of her often and hope whoever she's met
Will be fully aware of how precious she is.

Ah, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me,
"How good, how good does it feel to be free?"
And I answer them most mysteriously,
"Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?"

abusing this blog

for everything i can't tell you right now.
because i must not call you. ever.
okay:
its all over now baby blue. for some weird reason i always pictured my sister's apartment for that song. How the carpet moved and the lover went out of the door, with all the blankets from the floor.
How we made love there. yeah. ah, well. how you said, i want you, on the bed before we even went that far and how this just beamed me in a different state of being, just knowing that you wanted me. you saying that what you want is my heart. wait, scratch that, it will happen naturally. just sit back and relax and enjoy. you telling me how you tried to make all those girls cum, almost like a sports. me being so childishly triumphant over the fact that i refused to fake it just to be a continuum in your efforts. i said, we will have to take it from somewhere else. we did. we were about to. and then you left. ah you have no idea how it hurts, you have no idea. maybe you do. now i understand: tearing your hair out. pounding fists into the wall. banging my head against the bathroom walls. hitting myself on my chest. it hurts so much. you have to externalize the pain somehow.
my sister, from far away, calls me back and it s okay. it s okay. i will be fine. it s too fast. too much by surprise. everything everything everything i turned around to meet your love. everything fuck man. every thing. of course, don't be worried. i never go without plan B and C and D but trust me. all i wanted was plan A. it was all i wanted. well. you telling me Ethan is your kid. how everything inside of me shifted around and i was ready, in a matter of seconds, to embrace that, too, and be a mother. how much it hurt when you said you just wanted to see how i 'd react. you should ve known me better. a lot of the times. the little flower i never got. stubborn you. you saying my niece told you i kissed steve. how everything in myself shifted, trying to see her as a horrible person and then you just tested me again. how could you do that? i don't know. i can't picture it anymore.
it's all over now baby blue.
the first innocent days with bob dylan and the first longing kiss, for you to stay, you left, how ironically to your gypsy land, in retrospect the whole relationship in one kiss, like a little seed, containing the whole tree.
you looking over, while driving and saying, my god you are so beautiful. and you kissing me. stopping the car to kiss me. the red lights, my best friends. i could never get enough of your kisses.
your beautiful energy when you in all earnesty tried to tell me what you think was right. it was gorgeous, for a lack of a better word. i loved your dominance as much as i loved your weakness. oh my god. i loved you so much you have no idea. i still do. that's why it hurts so bad

i really don't know what to do now.
i
just
don't know

i guess thats just life. this pain. i never wanted to know that for you. i never did. i can't get over the fact that it should be over now. i don't want it to be over. i want to go to the beach one more time. i really want to.
i never want to let you go.
why is it over? why? why? why can't there be something new?
oh why????

i wanted you to be a palm tree maybe

Cerco tiene la luna, mi amor ha muerto.

i've lost

and as I was reading this thought lingered for a while in my head until it hit me :

I've lost you to your circumstances







:(





are we all? victims? powerless?

field studies

.

soooo.... if nothing, you are a great field study for me.
in fact, i wouldn't have read so much about religion, ethnical reclusive groups (that is you gypsy!) and other very interesting things, if it hadn't been for you. maybe it's just a very weird psychological trick of me to make the subject of my pain to the object of my studying. it makes it less nightmare-ish i guess.
people. are strange. always amazed.

it sucks, does it,
to feel that way.
it's all over now baby blue.
I wish I could call you and just cry and just i don't know. just. share this pain with you, as I shared my joy, my love.
but i guess we can't and are not allowed to share that pain. because in the end pain is this one thing in the world that we can't ever really share. nobody will understand. and we will always think that our pain is extraordinary and unique.
it would make it more difficult to surivive that crazily doomed tragedy to call you now. so i don't.
i don't i don't i don't.
how can it be that two love each other so much and still can't be together? how can it be, that two love and want each other so much but both know with this sixth sense that defeats all logic and all careful considerations ('let's wait and take a break')
that it won't work out.
it
won't
work
out.
do you get it, girl. do you get it, it won't.
ah how i wish i could just be young and carefree and just live a romance until it breaks violently.
this breaks because we went too far. because we were too serious about it. because we put so much meaning into it. because you wanted to marry me and now that we both feel that this isn't going to work out we better run and end this before it hurts even more.
i want to be more hurt, if i could just love you a little longer.
it's stupid.
i think that's what drug addicts do. just one more.
i hate being strong. i hate being considerate. i hate being understanding.
i don't want it anymore.
i probably have to cut it off and just thinking of it throws me into outer space and i am floating and screaming and nothing hears me and nothing anybody could say would console this pain.

cuando viene el dia mis penas s'agrandan; solo las sombras de la noche oscura consuelan mi alma.....

what a day - or :is this when you feel subtly rejected

what a day.
i feel so very much like dying away from your life right now.
ah, I am being dramatic.
but I am moving on.
you are not ready to rebel for real.
you are not ready to leave your community
you always told me how tired you are of it all
of this life
and there you go
i just hope you find the right way there. there is nothing wrong with staying within the borders.

i 've always been a sailor
and it's always been just me and the stars.

good night
and bye

slowly...
you know, It's not like I am not worth anything. I know you know that. But I am worth everything. I am worth for the prince to leave his country and conquer kingdoms for me, kill all the dragons within him. solve all my riddles.
you said you were working on them.
but you were too young
i wish I could say i'll wait until you are older
but most likely i will just fly on

baby.
and my daughter will always be with me
and this thorn.

you just didn't let me.
you just didn't rebel enough
you fucking didn't dare
you couldn't? i never understood? the things i don't know would fill a book?
so you have a book already honey.
no need to write more chapters with me. that one was good enough


ah i will free my soul

oh well another love letter

I miss you so much. so so so so so much today, it's not funny. It's
not a bitter but a longing, yearning, loving kind of missing. I
simply: just want to be with you for a couple of hours, give you some
sweet loving, hold you, be held by you, damn I miss you so much.
I danced for you today in the apartment all by myself, in my brown
long skirt and bikinitop..what a waste of beauty but it was fun and I
worked out=sweated a lot doing that. I don;t know, why I couldn't do
taht in front of you, why I was all of the sudden so timid a lot of
the times. I guess I am just shy under all this jumpy enthusiasm. you
can't change? i can't change either...i can't think of anybody right
now though, that i would want to make happier and most happy but you.
It's maybe weird, maybe perfectly normal, who knows, who cares. I know
that most probably we can't be together forever.
But...Man. is it wrong to want that?
Is it stupid and naive to still want it to work out? Is it wrong,
stupid, impatient, naiv, untrusting, egotistical, to want you to
evolve into my king?
I guess that would require major changes for me to become your queen
as well. Are they realistic? The needs and demans for us to be
together, are they realistic? manageable? Would we break what can't be
bend? Are we?
I don't want that. I don't want to take everything we have and smash
it on the ground but I don't want to just shun that because i am
scared it would happen that way.
I guess i'll just miss you like that. It's weird because all the time
I'm secretely waiting for you to knock on my door. I would open bu
most probably just faint. I miss you that much. I just want to hold
you man. just some peaceful quieteness for a couple of eternal
seconds.
vrjau se te sarut in kulzol guri...
I wish so much you'd come. probably better you don't (fuck that)
you dreamt last night you made love to me? make love to me! Ah. Can
we? Maybe we shouldn't. Oh. Ahhh. But. Holding each other? Oh, please,
be ther my sweetest lover of a lifetime. Was it really just the
potential I fell in love with?
Or the seconds? I miss you.
So much;
and how long will i have to wait? You can't tell me but who could?
Is there a day when all is good and memories take on the color of
sepia and love is but a well-wishing thought loaded with
sentimentality?

ALL I REALLY WANT is for you to find your way and truly be close to God.
I will go my way, too, but before I decide which road I choose I sit
down at the crossroads and cry into my hands: because I wanted so
badly to show you the love for this beautiful world, for God's
creations, for this life, that is a gift, I wanted to give and show
you all of my heart and what it rejoices in and what it loves so
dearly. I wanted you to understand, let you into my world, and see
with your heart as well.
I wanted you to fall in love with God's world my love. I wanted to sooth
your haunted soul. (who am i to do that anyways) - bring you closer to
God and love yourself so you could love others... and all i did was
drive you into more hatred against this world but i guess my way to
God just can't be yours. but most definetely my way is love and by
loving you i did come closer to God, believe it or not.

so there i sit until the tears dry and then i guess i ll have to
choose which way to go.

and you'll play a major role in this decision for you've given me way
more than you know.

your wild child full of grace

aftermath

-


I want to make love to you Emeralda

What?

I want to make love to you.

Oh sweet sweet morning voice. All i could say though, girlishly stupid stuttering: Reeeeallly??!!! That's inte-restiiing..Oh my God how stupid.

Emeralda you to love make to want I






oh oh oh oh oh

trap=chance?

.
I am sure you've heard about the theory that a lot of women fall into the same trap time and time again. The same kind of man, just in a little different edition, the same PMS patterns all over again (oy oy oy), things you swore you would never do like your Mom and, in the end seemingly doomed, you do it anyways the exact same way. Snap.
I guess guys have similar things occuring in their lives, in the end it's probably not gender specific....
It sucks, of course, if you fall for alcoholics all the time I guess. Or abusive boyfriends/husbands. That really sucks and some people definetely need to get treatment and professional help.
However, for the rest of us I think it's pretty much the same thing as with drugs: if you are strong enough to handle it there is nothing really wrong with it. If you don't do it all the time. I mean you know, if you are able to be alone for a while and be cool with that, with yourself....I don't see really where the problem is (well with drugs I do but that's a different story and maybe just part of my hypcrism. But matter of factly I too have to admit, that there are indeed people who at least don't show any current signs of damage just because they did or do drugs occasionally. Like sweet China for example who hasn't lost any of her childlike joy for life....combined with a fascinating maturity...ah, I degress...)
For some weird reason we seem to run away from anything that would promise perfect happiness and perfectness and glorious boredom. If you think you don't run away from it just think twice. We are rather looking for challenges in the end, are we? Maybe it's just a certain species of human beings who do that, (stupid us!) but I am certainly one of them...
So for this species I had an epiphany today in the morning:

I woke up at 6 AM and met Silja outside the apartment building. The sun softly painted the walls yellow and it was a fresh morning. We smiled at each other: 'you're a morning person too?' I grinned a huge smile and said, yeah, I was in bed at 11 PM yesterday...We look at each other and start laughing: Friday night in Hollywood!!!!
So I joined her for a coffee and during this women-chit-chat the abovementioned epiphany hit me:
IT IS NOT A TRAP.
Yes, the two guys I can say I really loved with all my being are scarily similar. I just met my boyfriend on the next step, he was past what my first love went through while I was yearning for his heart but in the same time he had had a much more difficult past. but I degress, the point isn't the comparison here but the fact that they were similar and it pretty much seemed as if my previous love was just a good training for my love now.

I wonder what awaits me in the future.

but, it is not a TRAP. As long as you are strong enough to handle it and grow through it, learn your lesson, it is all good. We meet those guys for a reason. Sometimes the reason is, that we really badly need to learn a lesson about ourselves and get away from that self destructive helper syndrome or whatever, sometimes we meet them because they need to learn something from us or most likely it is reciprocal..... but in my case i just realized that if it is for nothing at least it is for a really good training.
And I am not losing it. By asking me to be strong for him he gave me my strength back. I can do this. I am not losing myself. I am not sacrificing myself in a bad way. Jesus did that for him. Wait, maybe that's not enough. Maybe we need to sacrifice a lot more these days. But if you are talking sacrifice, you have to find out WHAT is the appropriate thing to sacrifice?
I sacrifice a wild 23 year old life. I focus on school, go to bed as often as early as possible, enjoy the silent morning hours, write a lot, find out a lot about myself while running in Runyon Canyon. I pray every night. I play music a lot. I love. I live. I wake up with a smile in the morning. I cry at night. I cry when I sing songs about love. I learn the blues.
And it was incredibly beautiful to be with him, despite all the tragical aspects of this (seemingly) doomed relationship.

I think the most intriguing thing in life is to try to find the upsides in the downsides. Like, learning the blues.
If nothing, this makes me stronger. And if I, for some reason, have to become SO strong, it is for a reason. Sometimes I sit down and cry and sob and lament over this fact, that I fucking just don't want to be STRONG. I want to be weak. Held. Just relax. I dont' want to be that strong person that is built to take way more than all that (says my very much respected Dad). I had those moments since childhood. All those expectations people had. My own expectations. My neverending curiosity, my neverending philanthropic suffering. My piscies-ness.
But in the end of the day I lay on my back in the pool and look up to the stars, floating, remniscing about Greece and the ocean there and the feeling i had there, - and falling in love with this life and planet just once more again my wings open in one strong movement and I brush all the pettiness off for a moment: In the end;

It has always been just me and the stars.

bitter sweet victory

bitter sweet victory

today i saw you passing by
weird smile painted on your face
so you want to come across as mysterious?
yeah this indeed makes men all curious
ha, but it's nothing but a farce in the eyes of fate
sit, watch, wait

it's such a bitter sweet victory
to look at you contemptibly
to walk up to you in a slow pace
and then smash your own dirt into your fugly face,
for what you did was way under a woman's dignity
but what does revenge really matter to me
i don't give two fucks about you when i am sober
something way stronger and bigger has taken him over
your little game hasn't even left a notable trace
and it was never about you and me in a race
what a sweet bitter victory to take revenge when it doesn't matter anymore
sweet sweet bitter revenge, tell me, what would it be for....

you run around trying to understand other women's men
become a woman yourself bitch, then we can talk again
trophies get dusty and rusty and look so pathetic on your little shelf
how about sitting down and thinking about pride and dignity for yourself
you think you are on the rockstar ways but all I see is how you pathetically run the slutty race
you won't win it honey because in the end all that matters exceeds the capacities of your kind
and in the end you'll go lovelessly blind

today i saw you passing by
your depressive attitude amuses me, good try,
nothing is more hilarious than a snake who thinks she won't have to pay the fee
I tell ya puppy one day it will come all back to you all and then you will see
and it won't even compare to anything i could do to you just to make a point
and trust me, if it wouldn't have been for your wicked ways
I wouldn't have paid any interest past those five minutes anyway
go ahead and run around
telling other women's men how much their girls really count
become a woman yourself and then maybe we'll let you join our round

oh what a bitter sweet victory you don't even matter anymore
oh what a bitter sweet victory what you did is nothing but hot air today
i don't even want to be mad at you anymore, what a sweet bitter victory
my grief overwhelms me and all I wish is to be able to be mad at you
i just think bitches like you ....

irony of reverse psychology

.

so ironic how you wanted to bring me closer to God and all I could do is shake my head and try to make you understand that I already am. And then you drove me away from the truth that you believe in. And then I started feeling sick whenever I met 'born-again' Christians and people who tried to convince me to join their church.

so ironic how I wanted to bring you closer to my fairy-tale world, how you called it, how i wanted to bring you closer to the joy of life and love for this world and all that happened was you becoming sicker and sicker and eventually you had to give up because this is not for you and your hatred actually increased because you always saw an enemy in this world, a rival, who could take me away.

And now, what happened is pretty much exactly that: you've been taking away from your way and I've been taking away from my way and all i can think about is how much I miss you. us, taken out of context, belong to each other. an almost perfect fit. a pure love that only got tainted by the way things go.

and I wake up with the song in my head that I learned a long time ago:

'And you take the low road and I take the high road and I'll be in Scotland but me and my true love will never meet again at the sunny sunny banks of Loch Lomond....'

You have no idea how glad I am we met.
and no idea how sad...

done wrong

'believe me, that's it. it's funny how everybody has their little explanations and theories and concepts. I know myself better than anyone and I know for a fact that this is it.'
'Well if you want it to be..'
'Well, maybe i want it then. this is it Emeralda. You've taken me to my limits. You've shown me everything I wanted to see. And I am very grateful for that. Really I am, you don't know, if I only could put it in words...'
'You have no idea, I wanted to show you so much more...there is so much more'
'I don't care It is all I ever wanted...'
*trying to be cool, not be stupid womanish. don't be mad. be cool*
'so you just got what you needed and wanted and left then..' *damn! you wanted to be cool!!! damn...*
'Emeralda..please. is this the point where we get mad and have to hang up...'
'no. *fuck* it's okay. really. it is.'
'I might have to leave'
'i know'
'I hope i can see you before that because if not that would really suck. it would be just sad'
'you can't shock me anymore my love'
'what?'
'I meant, that you can't shock me anymore. it would just be another thing that I would take as it is'
'That's good...
I really love you Emeralda, man, I do...'

I do this only because you are sick. Your ignorance infuriates me. But what should I say. Probably you are right. Probably. It's ridiculous how this love was prescribed in songs. All those songs. The first song we listened to together was 'I threw it all away' and 'Lay lady Lay' by Bob Dylan. How ironic. And then 'little wing'. how you jumped almost out of the car when you realized that your most favorite song in this world is about me......and indeed, the lyrics fit better than I 'd like to admit.... And back in April I was listening to Ani di Franco's 'Done wrong' in a loop. It was during our first big crisis. I didn't know and I never wanted to look at it this way, but taking all my comprehending considerations about your current situation and your past aside, this is pretty much how it feels like:

the wind is ruthless
the trees shake angry fingers at the sky
the people hunch their shoulders
hold their collars over their earsand run by
it's a cold rain
it's a hard rain
like the kind that you find in songs
i guess that makes methe jerk with the heartache
here to sing youabout how i've been done wrong

and i am sitting, watching
out the window of the coffee shop
and i am waiting, waiting
waiting for it to let up
i am rocking like a cradle
warming my hands with the cup in between
i am leaning over the table
holding my face over the steam

and before it gets so cold
that the rain turns to snow
there's just a couple things
i'd like to know

like how could you do nothing
and say, i'm doing my best
how could you take almost everything
and then come back for the rest
how could you beg me to stay,
reach out your hands and plead
and then pack up your eyes and run away
as soon as i agreed

it just all slips
away so slowly
you don't even notice till you've lost a lot
i've been like one of those zombies
in vegas
pouring quarters into a slot
and now i'm tired
and i am broke
and i feel stupid and i feel used
and i'm at the end of my little rope
and i am swinging back and forth
about you

before it gets so cold
that the rain turns to snow
there's just a couple things
i'd like to know

like how could you do nothing

and say, i'm doing my best

how could you take almost everything

and then come back for the rest

how could you beg me to stay,

reach out your hands and plead

and then pack up your eyes and run away

as soon as i agreed

love

.


can't be controlled.
demands complete surrendering.
is often something entirely different from what it seems to be.
is mistaken for other things a lot.

Our hopes were high
and dreams so clear
the future was so tangible, so close, so near
so much more real than reality is now
in the end it was nothing but a differently colored yesterday
- ah, it was never for me
now all i have is it's distant memory

And I look back and I have to see
I didn't use love but love used me
and I never knew but she knew me


neither past nor future are for me to keep.

it's just smells, sounds and dreams so deep

if you only let me...

I would be your Gypsy queen.
I would let you go anytime and let you come back.
Don't marry me. Don't leave me.
You said you loved me.
You said you left her too. She wanted to settle down. What in the hell???? You were 18, a drug addict.

If you only let me
I would be your Gypsy queen
and your wild child

but now you can't have me anymore
oh well
maybe i am free

cut me please

...above us only sky....

it is what it is

why is it so damn hard to accept that it is what it is?
if I KNEW that i am meant for you for ever, I would wait for you for ever.
like Kunigunde in the legend of Parsival. She was mourning over the body of her dead beloved one her entire life. Faithfully. I would do the same. I would.
If I only knew.


isn't it funny, wife, that you said one day, that me and the gypsy remind you of a modern Romeon and Juliet.

How fucking weird is that. it feels weird to be so evidently doomed. you feel weird. like a fly. maybe.

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

and what the fuck is going on in the middle east anyways?!
just had a pizza with two israelis. it was weird how they defended israel's actions. it's more complicated than just two soldiers. duh. i think i got that already. man. what the eff is happening. and here in hollywood, nobody really cares.

it's so damn far away.

and SUV's everywhere. and then they bitch about the gas prices. and man. it's still cheaper than in freaking Germany. I' m just saying. Use your ass and the money for liptosomia maybe for something more useful. good lord.

Wish You Were Here

I'm not ever gonna change. I know that for a fact. Please. Emeralda, don't cry, can't you cry after you hang up...
I don't know what this feeling is like. I can't describe it. Something is trying to come out of me. Salt water, snodder, sobbing waves, a pain from this place nobody knows until they get stabbed right there.
Now I understand at least, what this song is about. Oh man, I Wish You Were Here.
Do you really think you can tell.... heaven from hell... blue sky from pain...
Do you really think you know that you are not gonna change. ever.
But i wanted to be with you I say and it all falls down and on my chest, I can't breathe. I just wanted to be with you.
When I say I know it is gonna be that way you say and I sob and weep and weep and ask you why can'y you just say we are going to be together and then it is going to be that way because you said so.
I knew from day one that it is not going to work out.
But I wanted to be with you, I was going to stay here for you.
oh Emeralda don't put that on me now please. please.
but maybe it's going to work later, you just have to take everything a step at a time and use all your energy now to get better. Don't put up with me. just get better. and then we will see.
Emeralda, It will only work when you give up all your friends. I know that one day I would even have hated Tiffany. Thats how I am. I am a fucking lunatic. I am never going to be with anybody.
Is that why you left Anna I ask and I really don't know why I fucking ask that. I shouldn't. It's not the point.
Yes.
I really didn't want to know that.
But you didn't love her like you love me
N-no. Emeralda, we were at the point where we could have gotten married. That's how I am. I always end it there.
He is only 20. How can he tell. How can he fucking tell.

Today I felt so much how I am better of alone
But I really wished so badly you would have come home
I miss you so much
I just want to be with you. Oh my god.
Oh how I wish, how I wish you were here.
I don't know anymore what to say.

I am never ever going to be with anybody Emeralda.
I smile under tears. You know it's funny. I thought the same thing. One day I was sitting here and I cried because I realized that if I want to follow this feeling that haunts me since childhood, that I have to do something, I don't know yet what it is...but I realized that I can't do it if you can't take my love for the world too.
I can't.
I know. Anyways, I mean, we don't know. But I was thinking right then that..
I have to go
I am just about to tell you something
I have to go
why
BECAUSE
okay.

I have a fucking hole in my stomach
and then you hung up
and I am in a sobby mess
and I wanted to tell you that me too, I had this feeling, that if I have to sacrifice our relationship, our love for this thing I feel I have to do in life, then I will never every gonna be with anybody again in my life.
As a way of paying for that sacrileg to abandon love

we are so young. so incredibly young man

we are nothing but a bird in God's hands.

.


Anthem by L.Cohen


The birds they sang
At the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Dont dwell on what
Has passed away
Or what is yet to be





The wars they will
Be fought again
The holy dove
Be caught again
Bought and sold
And bought again
The dove is never free




Chorus
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
Thats how the light gets in





We asked for signs
The signs were sent
The birth betrayed
The marriage spent
The widowhood
Of every government
Signs for all to see



Cant run no more
With the lawless crowd
While the killers in high places
Say their prayers out loud
But theyve summoned up
A thundercloud
And theyre going to hear from me

Chorus

You can add up the parts
But you wont have the sum
You can strike up the march
There is no drum
Every heart
To love will come
But like a refugee












Emeralda:it feels warm in your shelter and each sun has a core
now i want to radiate and bring warmth to the shores - of life
stretch and touch the tip of icy mountains
spread and embrace each drop of those fountains
love like a bird so wild and free
it's inner freedom in restriction is not for us to see.......

but it can sing

this world isn't black white, but ...

sometimes it helps a lot to cover things up....



and i am only thinking about you, all the time.

friday night in hollywood

too many tourists that drive me nuts. a lot of absurdly dressed up chicks, both, locals and tourists who think that hollywood indeed glitters like gold. you gotta pump it baby. whatever. akwardly I hurry past them like a fleeting shadow pretending to be gone. i sympathize with the bums and punks. but they don't even notice me, i am in limbo, i suppose they just see the dollar bill in case i would take it out of my pocket. well, tonight it'll stay there, companeros and companeras, i am on tight budget myself. and if you don't wanna take my smile so be it. i won't blame you.
the italian cafe changed ownership. Yonni tries to be all hip and different... the secludedness that my sorry maverick ass loved so much about it is gone now. well, i've seen that happening before. the other cafe with a real touch to it was our cafeteria at school and see how they butchered it into a corporate America misfuck. oh well. Nevertheless I stop for a chat with what was his name and slightly annoyed I notice the English poet sitting out there, too. He tries to get into a conversation. Last time i saw him when redhead was with me. Good old times. But tonight I don't feel very much like talking to strangers. Thanks though, very much for trying to add some intellectual touch to the neighborhood but I think I was doing great without that. LA can't be New York honey. It never will. And your bulletin on film making sure is fucking awesome, I take that for granted, you wouldn't even have to say that yourself. Incroyable.
The girls went up Runyon Canyon to drink some wine on top of the hill, overviewing the city. I know that it is beautiful and I know I maybe should have gone with them. What makes me such a loner anyways? Always independently and unsealed dropping in and out of parties, conversations, 'hang-outs'. Like a cat - nobody complains anymore. When I want to go and read it doesn't mean I am depressed. It means I want to read instead of sitting in a hot tub, oh yeah. If I want to play guitar in the room without anybody hearing me I just need to do that. I don't know why. Otherwise a very fun comrade - so they say - I just can't bring it at times. Just leave me the fuck alone. Loners will be loners there is nothing you can do to convert us. really.
I think the most akward thing about me was always how I would sit down after clubbing, at 5 or 6 AM and read very focused and concentrated the newspaper, sipping my tea away. Elissa used to marvel and laugh at that all the time. It wouldn't matter how many people were around me. I would just sit down and read and get lost - the rest of the world just faded away. Hello? hello! are you there?
--
Weirdo, maverick.
Friday night in Hollywood 11 PM and I am going to sleep now. Does that mean I am getting old or just a little weirder?
Or maybe I just wait for you to come and sleep next to me. I know you want it so bad, too. You got back to your old stupid not sleeping patterns. I wish you would come back to just watch me sleep in the moonlight. Remember?

care

you are my best friend, my only ally, you don't understand. nobody cares like you. you are the only one who really cares about me. nobody else does.
o c'mon, your mom does, i know that for a fact. she does. and your brother, your cousins....?
I have nobody Emeralda.
I think once more, that it all depends on how you open up to somebody and probably I am really the only one he opened up to like this. You have to LET people care. If you pretend you are all fine by yourself all the time...How can they reach you?

And then I think, well, I do care and that's for a fact. However, that's not so much only for who is but for who I am. I care. Gosh, I care about the earthworms drowning in the rain, I care for the environment, I care for the days of fastfood-employees and try to make them smile, I care for all those homeless and drug addicts I see here in Hollywood all the time. I care for criminals, I care for minorities in the classroom and the world, I care for cultural, musical uniqueness, I care for the people whoms blogs I read, I just - care. and although I might not care about the Bitch, I still wish her all the best and hope she learns her lessons quickly to prevent further damage. yah.

And it makes me really sad that this should be so extra-ordinary. extra special bitter. we all should care for each other. not so much in trying to change the people around us by trying to align them to us but by being genuinely interested in the otherness of them and trying to show them genuine interest and love. Care can be small. It can be a small smile in the crowd. It can be a handshake instead of throwing a quarter in his begging hand. It can be a genuine 'how are you' and a couple of seconds to wait for the other person to recover from the shock to really have been asked and answer that - not so easy - question.

Yesterday I talked to you on the phone and I tried to explain you that it doesn't matter to me whether or not you are going to die any time soon. I won't shut my heart down in the fear of this anticipation that the one you love most is the one who is going to die. In fact, now I think you probably aren't going to die any time soon. there is so much you have to still fight against. you have to learn it, but not in your head, you have to learn how to apply what you know to your daily actions. there is a miriad of things still to do for you. I don't think He'll let you go any time soon.
I tried to explain you, that when I said to you that I still would want to have kids with you and a family, even if I knew that you would die early I really meant it, and that was five or six months ago. And I still mean it. It is not so much the family and kids that I am really after, although it makes me cry to think of Sophia, but it is the fact that I would be up for that.
I hate the movie 'Sweet November' for that fact that she doesn't let him be with her when she is going to die. I mean, it is controversial and it's a good ending, yeah, but I think it's bullshit.
Pride is the first thing we'll probably lose when we die. Why hold onto it for so long. why shun pain like the pest. why why why?

And as I was sitting there, with my phone in the hand, you were gone already and my tears were patiently waiting for me to give in Thiago came by. I was in the songwriting class with him in a work-group. He is one of those people who are not so plastic around here. He turned around and asked me 'are you alright?'
and he asked again because I said I was. He knew it was a lie. But what should have I said?
The point was, that he really meant it. This was soothing enough for my heart.
Someone cared.
Unconditionally, just like that.

and you do too i know that my love.

grace

staring into the green outside the window, a colibri fascinating, but not enough. i sit on a green couch that we found today in the building as I am talking to you.
i thought i was about to think that this was a damn lie. a big lie.
i said, holding the tears back and trying to hide my racing heartbeats in my voice, that it makes me happy to love you. because despite all odds, it is still beautiful to love someone. to have loved like we did. and before the clouds of judgemental thoughts rain on me i run and seek shelter in the beauty of the obscure. it isn't always like we think. the darkest corners of the soul can fulfil you with a rare wild kind of joy that will be unfelt until you dare to protrude them without any light-just with your heart.
it feels good to be hungry when you fast, it feels good to work out, it feels good to practice, it feels good to do anything with all your heart, hunder percent, it feels good to be moved.
the way you say my name in one milli second breaks all the ice I so busily and successfully tried to cool my heart with.
one take of breath and i am drenched with excitement, that kind that you find at trainstations a lot.
with unpreceded grace the sweet sweet melody of Sophie Solomon's violin drips into my heart.
I was about to think it was a damn lie.
but it wasn't my love, my beloved Daniel. it wasn't.

exit

I knew it wouldn't last.
in the obscurity of night's shadows I lie and can't sleep. the sounds from the outside are intriguingly constant. once i thought that what we had was the constant element in my life but my heart flickers and flares in this wind and I remember softly a time when i would have given anything for you to let me into your ice storm.

i cannot follow you my love, you cannot follow me. i am the distance you put between all the moment that we will be. you know who I am. you've stared in the sun, well I am the one who loves changes from nothing to one....(L. Cohen)

I knew it was just a passing moment but there will be the day that those moments will multiply like bacteria and then it is too late to play gods. then it will be to late to make any efforts. then it will be the time when we can breathe again. it is you who I miss. it was never about who you are, what you do or not do. it was the way you are. like golden shimmering liquid light in a deep well.
i am so thirsty.

absent

today i felt so over it so far away so gone and

absence fills my chest

iron armor

how ridiculous when you get caught up in childish mathematics
i take the jokes for what they are
and start to cry
eye for eye and so on.
a whole world gone blind.
not due to love. due to those iron armors
inside,
i feel how it grows
weren't they supposed to be outside?
no inside
you are gone
and i am getting filled up
with metal
i feel it every where, stretching out
into all corners of my soul
my body aches
it gets cold inside
as you are fading away

and your voice sounds hollow within the iron fills

tango

The power of pain
Flowing into our lives
A single little Viola
Raped and thrown into outer space
A broken heart in between Alaska and there
An Emeralda that cried in the rain
A last hug or was it the beginning
Before the heart break and the despair
A tango in the evening
Trying steps
Losing innocence and finding some
The black hills of home
Far in the distance birds are circling
Waiting for something
A movie full of life’s mystery and dramatic
Tango danced me enthusiastic
But closeness reveals wood at times and nasty reality
To deal with you are young and you have to
Learn
The power of pain ebbs in and out
Sometimes it sings silently sometimes aloud.
And a cello melody that says it all
We are just a part of the whole…
And my tears just drops in the endless sea
And your eyes just stars on the firmament
And our love just a piece of what we all want

out

I move to the music, the broken beats create a pattern that I, like a little child skipping on the street trying not to step on cracks, follow more than willingly.
And as the scent of your deoderant hits me and as soon as I close my eyes the room disappears in fast forward mode and with it the people, with it the whole evening.
All I know now is how we made love.
And wild and slow and beautiful.
I remember how you feel and how you made me feel and my knees start giving in.
The feelings are like the scent of a rose when you walk past a garden. It feels like morning dew, it makes me wet and it makes me sigh and I just never ever want to open my eyes again. In fact, i want time to freeze and when I open my eyes again I am in your arms. And then we talk, in our little bubble, and learn how to be together.

You spoiled the whole evening. You've always been so sensitive. You felt things. It's insane. I am sure you don't know about this. But you spoiled it.
This afternoon was crazy. It's full moon soon and the tide is high, tears roll quickly. Sobbing I pounded my fist against the wall in an attempt to make this pain stop hurting so bad. To make me stop crying. To control the uncontrolled sobs. damnit. And then he called. Judith's friend, the dude from craigslist. Asked me whether I'd like to come to this concert tonight, bring some friends with me. Whatever
The girls were ecstatic: oh nobody invites me ever, you are so lucky!
I didn't have anything better to do. Well I did, practicing is always better, but whatever. concerts can be good, you gotta give'em a chance.

So I went and you called.
And it was the first time in a while that you actually talked to ME.
so how are you my love
and I started telling you about how i went jogging in the canyon and how i found this little pathway, I had to crawl under bushes and there were bumble bees and birds and stuff!
you smiled and said, you are a really great person, emeralda.
oh come on don't embarrass me
no you really are and you are my best friend. I am so proud of you. and it means so much more than anything. more than being the best girlfriend or lover or whatever. you are the only one who really cares about me. you are the greatest friend i have and you can be proud that someone called you that.

and as i am sitting there, in this bar or whatever it is, i think: man, actually he is right. he is my best friend too. he cares more than anybody except for my family. my friends all know and think that i am cool alone. but he really really cares to an extend that makes me feel safe and i opened up.
that's why it hurts so much now
because i was so open
and it hurts
it hurts
and then i try to do things to get distracted although i want to be friends with that pain
and then you call and tell me
how much you care
and you love me
and no matter what happens, it was such a great time
do you remember the time we made pasta the first time together.
and then you gave me a massage

yeah, i fell asleep next to you
it was the best time in my life.

oh my love. i wish, i wish you would have had more best times in your life. i wish you could have seen and done the things i have seen and done.
it made life so freaking beautiful.
for me.
i love you man

and it was so exhausting to socialise. to be there. i really didn't want to.

man you so spoiled that evening.


but making love to you while dancing...ah. what a flower...
and i danced for you

bitter almonds

bitter
that you never let me in but you said you would
that you never let me get to know your other world
you said
all you want is what we have
and I always knew
that you couldn't live without them
that it meant too much still
despite your desires and feelings
it still meant too much

so you drive through the night to call me at three o'clock in the morning
and you say it is an old Gypsy's tradition
and i hear your cousins laugh
in the morning I cried

grow up

it's old news that i have to grow up

it is so much more beautiful though with Sophie S. from London. This music soothes a soul.

beautiful

the flowers blossom outside the window and so unaffected by time.
I listen to the sounds of the city rushing by
it is so beautiful
how vibrant our soul's melodies sounded. how colorful and special we held hands.
you know what i mean.
it was just fucking beautiful.
and i know we are not new, there were lovers in the forests and cities before us, they've loved like you and me but lost in our own universes we circle around our love like around a sun and worship it's rising every day anew.

and then it dawns.
and then the night comes along.
and it is going to be long cold polar winter
with no sun rising
and no flowers blossoming
and no suns
in silence we grief, in this place far inside, nobody believes in.
until they get stabbed. yeah.
so

beautiful

man, it is like a movie, a real good tragedy. you go home with this special ending and your imagination takes you to this place where peace is. nothing nasty, just what the hearts need: obscurity and secrecy.
leave dark what needs to be obscure.
leave obscure what is dark.
night's are there so we can see the stars. and dream and reach out to them and orientate us at them and long out to them.
it is the phantasy land of magic and myths, of fairy tales in a real world...

but hell no, hell no, that's not what we want.
we take everything we have and shatter it on the ground.
we take everything we have and break it into pieces,
drag it along.

because we always want more of

beautiful

ps. it is so weird. i feel like i should run now. i feel like, this was the perfect ending and I don't want to know more than that. i want to dream. i want to maintain this special star in the dark. our love. but my mind and my heart and my body feel drawn towards this star, refuse to let the sun drift away, they can't bear the cold blinking of the star. they follow it, they want it so bad. they want to feel the heat of the sun again. the gravitation. the wild feeling of being bonded in an eternal orbit, a prescribed way, a fatal and yet so beautiful reality. free in restriction. free in love.
ah.
i am so afraid that going on and trying to make it work or whatever would spoil it all. would destroy the night and burn me.
make me a planet although i might be a meteorit.
ah
all i want. is... ah.
oh dany

i don't write no diary/sketching before painting

these days i even can't write into my journal anymore. only in parables, stories, fairy tales and spoken word I can express what I am going through without getting lost in my tears and endless wonderings and feminine contemplations on what i should have or shouldn't have done...


when you get to this point in a relationship in which the end seems pretty much inevitable and you see how all of your dreams and plans and hopes are doomed you look back to what you had.
it's as if someone switches a light with a different color on.
you looked back at the elevator door and looked at me and than you said, it WAS a good time...
and all I could do was to nod my head and then, in a desperate attempt to do something I whispered: don't leave, Dany.
But you left and there I sit at four o'clock in the morning and cry my eyes out over some Bob Dylan songs that stab me into my heart in such a cruel yet beautiful way.

I look back too and I get this image in my mind that all this was like drawing a sketch for a masterpiece that we were ready to paint in tears and blood and love and laughter and many times to come.
and then there was suddenly no paint anymore.
but we sketched such a beautiful story.
we outlined the whole book in one chapter.

oh man...
oh fuck

the tree with the parrots

in front of the institute. Mc Cadden street. there is a tree with parrots in it. I've heard them but never really seen them. I am short sighted.
All this time, all this time, throughout the winter and the spring this tree hasn't lost any leaves but now all the pink flowers lie on the street, next to the dry leaves.
Now i can see but the parrots are gone.
And, somehow, it looks tragically beautiful and the tree is bare.
It feels like that.

It is, as if even the tree mourns with me
now that i can see

but my mind is clouded in these clear blued summer days

at war

it felt like at war. you came home and you were a stranger to me. what are you smiling at me like this you said, trying to break the akwardness of the situation, this is your weird smile.
i am sorry but i can't help it, it is strange isn't it.
it is.
but that's why you are here, no? we wanted to sit down and talk.
I don't want to talk to anybody anymore.
I know. I know. Helplessly I touch your hand, it is almost too much. I don't know what to do....what is right and what is wrong, it feels like dancing on a tight rope, I am concentrated, trying to listen to the instructions of the voice of my heart....

you reached over, from far away and leaned over me, searching for my lips, my mouth and our bodies tried to find back to each other, like flowers blossoming secretely in the dark.
love builds bridges to defeat the utter loneliness of being individual, individeable, and we overload those bridges at times with pictures, images, expectations, plans, future and past, although it is just meant to be a means of communication. True communication that goes beyond everything we know while dealing on an everyday basis. It is the communication that we are looking for. Without words, an embodied communication, a communication that leads to communion, it leads to this hidden place, ah and then we burn those bridges, in dispair, because they couldn't bare all those things we wanted to attach to them.
you reached over and found my lips like a lotus flower in a hidden lake far south. i faded in and out from being in the bitter sweetness of the moment and observing everything, probably in order to protect myself, carefully forming words in my head, writing the story while it happened, maybe, maybe, when it is put in form of a story it will be more bearable. maybe it will sound to me like another story that I love, and I can reattach my lost self to it, and forget the painful anticipation of the deatachment over that.
we find each other so well, again, so million many times we did and tears knock on the door, hello, you ordered three tears? one for me one for him and one for sophia.
oh my love I saw the dew in your eyes.
oh my lover I saw the restless dispair in your eyes
oh my love you said you are done
how do you know that
i just know man. I am sick.
I remember how June Carter kept Johnny Cash in his house and rehabed him. You once said maybe that's why you should do with me and I didn't know what you meant really but now it hits me and I wonder whether I should maybe run to the door and lock it and never let you go. i told you in the car that even if you would die early I still would want to have kids with you. It would be totally worth it. And you asked me to take care of you and I wanted to
and now I sit there and try to listen to my heart, what is right?
Intertwined again we dive up from yet another wave of passion that washed our minds away.
What do you smile you ask and i say I have a thousand smiles for free. remember?
I lost my mind you say, standing up. It is time.
I have it in my heart.
good, keep it there.
and I packed your things silently, surprised about this sudden strength to maintain dignity and a smile in this tossing of waves, i am so small.
i dont' know. i just don't know you said, and your face tried to find the right expression in search of a better explanation. it's not your fault. Geraldine. I sat there, just there, and then I said, if you have to say good bye you should say it.
Good bye.
Of course I didn't want to hear it but the moment took itself away from me and developed a life of its own.
I went over to the wooden box, there it was, behind it, my painting that I painted for you, ironically here in this apartment, back in the days when I lived at Aby's and it was easter and you wrote me how you finally forgave everybody and most importantly yourself and how you finally felt free and thank you for being my inspiration.
I really love you you say and I always will. Thank you for everything.
I brought you the painting, and said, well this is still for you, i folded it, read the poem i wrote on the backside and smiled remniscing the moment. Take it, and don't lose it, it is for you.
carefully we took each other into our arms. I held your head on my shoulder and you held mine and it felt like I was never gonna let you go I just held you and held you and you pressed my head oh so carefully on your shoulder that I love so much. I could hold you for ever.
This time the tears almost overwhelmed me.
It is not a bad thing when we enjoy kissing each other I tell him. I still love you. It is like we were at war.
The beloved comes home and is a stranger but then, when he has to leave again, he is the beloved again, a miracle of transformation, touched by a woman, and the kiss good bye is the sweetest kiss on this world, it is like you don't know whether you will see each other ever again.
I hold you from behind, your beautiful back that I loved to hug when I surprised you coming out of school. You turn to the door.
Can I kiss the corners of your mouth?
A ritual, that's how I first kissed you.
A sweet kiss good bye.
I love you.
Before you enter the elevator I lean against the wall and look at you from far. You look at me and softly say
It WAS a really good time. I thank you more than anybody in my life.
Come on. I laugh and I know you love how I laugh. You always made me laugh.
You have to thank your mom first.
I thank you more than anybody in my life. You are my best friend.

Don't leave Dany. (i see myself running to him and throwing myself on the floor, holding on to his feet. I see myself screaming and crying and tearing my hair out. but when I left a few moments later to go back to the apartment I went down on my knees, eventually overwhelmed by the pain and tears and covered my head with the blanket your sister gave me. in darkness it is alone that my soul can find comfort in sorrow)
I have to.

Okay. I say softly.
Okay. I rest for a little while in this moment. Sometimes the warrior has to fight in silence. I am not going to give you up just like that.
This would be the perfect ending for a perfectly beautiful encounter, for such a beautiful chapter.
But it never crossed my mind until now, that this could be it.
You said you love me
And I really do

it is like at war. when you don't know and can only enjoy the moment of crossing that bridge

paradise

Yes, I admit, of course.
it is like the tide.
yes, i can.
i know that i am strong enough but i don't want to be strong enough.
i dont' want this.
i simply don't fucking want it. oh man, don't you get it. fuck you destiny.
refusing, rejecting, hiding away but without avail. it is that we can't hide from inside.

However, there are a miriad of ways to keep me from being. Being in pain. It is almost too easy to be true. Just don't let your mind go to this place. Keep the weep inside. yeah, alright? it is burning it's way through my body. I can't eat really. Ice cream will do. great. funny, how tears, uncried, burn inside. It is the ultimate alchemistic amalgamation of water and fire, a miracle, a masterpiece of life: a bitter-sweet triumph of love.

The echoes of my laughter come back distorted: socialising is like a theater play that I have performed one too many times and I am getting so tired of it. routinley I nodd my head and say yes and how nice and oh what a drag but sometimes it bursts out of me and very rudely i tell them how it is.
Surprised, they turn their heads and laugh, smirk at times, because nobody ever believes you when you are honest. No, thanks, I don't want to see what you bought. No, I don't want to go there. No, thank you, I don't want to hang out with you. No, it doesn't look good. the surface ripples and reality shifts swiftly, just for a mili second: it is all there. and puzzled you leave them behind.

And all the fun and all the friends I wanted to have in addition to you, - my old life, as a continuation but just now together with you, what a blasphemic ordeal.. a discrimination of transforming love, the crippling of the dancer. - Oh how slow we change and see. it could have been an entirely new life but I was hanging on to another past just as I do now.
And although I will move in desperate bliss tonight when I go dancing - It's about the dancing and the pain and not the people. It is only and always about you and how I love you and how we fucking can't be together, the hapless collision of two worlds in the right time and the right place, the uncovering of true joy's real face: pain and joy, - all the same. piercing, stabbing, leaving the victim gasping on the floor, holding on to the wonder, always wanting more.

At times I think I'll be strong enough. I constantly think about it. I can. I'll draw from this... and all this bullshit. Alas, in the end of the day...of course I am broken. of course, like a tsunami the waves of pain crash into my mind from this painfully hurting place in my heart. - only the dark shadows of night can comfort my soul. And a Piazolla tango, on a loop. And this only because it keeps my pain company. and the rest of the world in relativity

this is then, why men kept talking about a paradise

pain ball

I don't even feel the need to talk to you right now. I roll the pain around like a little ball from my left breast to the right one, the memory of you kissing them escapes my mind but I remember how you first touched them, how you carefully put your hand around them like holding birds in your hands, and your hand were my nests and I learned how to love you and how to accept this wonderful and incredibly percious gift of your love.
Then I roll the little pain ball in my hands and let it dry in the wind and as I am listening to 'Lay Lady Lay' the first memory of me and my family being in France and Northern Spain unfolds like a flower in the early morning sun and then the smell of past summers transforms into our love and long - seemingly long forgotten - text messages like 'why wait any longer for the one you love when he is standing right in front of you' pop into my mind and instead of crying again I just crown the little ball with one uncried tear and make friends with it.
I will draw from this as I've drawn from our happier times. It's all the same. The hours spent waiting and longing, the hours spent missing, fighting, cryingm, laughing, talking, loving, trying, failing...It all sums up to who and what we are and it will lead to who we become...and it was and is great and beyond words. Nothing is perfect - fortunately I say. But beautiful.
I will always love you. I always have.

there are so many things I wish you could have seen too

like going on a hiking trip in Russia. The nightly camp fires and Toby singing until the morning dawned.
The fog at the morning when we gathered to sing before heading to our next goal along the Chapior river. I was standing there, slightly shivering in the cold morning breeze, when all of the sudden this magical song rose into the sky, 'Finland, my beloved Fatherland...' in three voices and like a bird my heart flew straight through the mist into the sky to kiss the morning sun.
Or the storm that blew the cotton flowers over the steppe alongside the river and it looked like a snow storm...
I wish you could have tried to get through this tiny window in the old church in the French/Spanish Pyrenees, even Dad tried although he is so claustrophobic and we danced on the roof and tried to sneak a peak into the locked chapel...and the monastry with those old paintings and the magnificent waterfall...and the water under our tent when it rained so hard....it was like floating on a raft and the trees stood strong and tall and the smell of herbs filled the air. I don't know whether I even knew the other meaning of the word 'herb' back then. Those were days of innocent love and joy.
And how I watched the eagles over the morning choire at the camping ground in the middle of nowhere with Samy. You would have liked him I know that. Ah, all these things, I wish you could have been there. I wish you could have been there. I wish everybody could have been there. It was so freaking beautiful and so nourishing. It still gives me strength.
I wish you could come with me this summer to Russia and work in this school and then go on the hiking trip with Lampi and the rest along the sidearms of the Don. I wish you could experience Russian hospitality and I wish you could hear those songs. I wish I could hear and see whatever was and is precious to you and your life my love. I wish we could have always shared all these wonderful things.
It makes me cry so hard to think that you were wounded maybe. Maybe those days were also full of hidden magical beauty and the story how you met Magdalena is really beautiful and I wish I could have seen it and seen the fire and see her dancing and then be with you guys in the tree, finding to each other, although it was maybe a game you have a heart and I am sure it was excited and loving the wild taste of a beautiful life.
I hate drugs with a passion.

pain is just the other side of the coin honey

so the chinese doctor said 'well he is not the problem. the problem are you'
'Why, what do you mean?'
'well, why are you with him?'
'because I can. I am strong enough'
'so do you have to prove somehow that you are strong enough?'
'well, I dont' know, I mean, i love him...'
and then he looked at me for like two seconds and turned then to Nancy to discuss why or not you could blame Bush for what is happening in the White House right now.

A bit startled I went back into the house. It is not like that was a helper-syndrom thing from the beginning. The point where I could/should have walked away and say 'I don't want to have a boyfriend with issues like that' was where I didn't walk away and that, indeed is characteristic for me and I have done that already once before.
But it's not like I ever want to change that. When I see an earthworm drowing in the rain on the street I pick him up to throw him into grass and if I walk by because i am hurry it won't last ten steps and I'll be back, feeling all guilty about not helping him out. I always had a little funeral for the dead birds we found. i always wanted to help and save the world, the poor, the wretched, the 'evil' ones...everybody. I wanted to fight the bad in all of us.
Maybe that makes me a piscie very much. lol.
But yeah. it's not like this is going to change.
The question however is: will I stick with one person and give myself up for one single soul or will I give myself up for the rest of the world too? Is it possible to do both?
I don't know I don't know I don't know.
I am blessed with a very lucky and good life. I've had it so so so good, when I look back at it now. And I always felt that the privileges I have oblige me to give back in whatever form to this world I am living in.

he said I shouldn't be sad otherwise he would kill himself. That's how much he wants me to be happy. He says he loves me more than life itself. (my sarcastic angel on the left shoulders whispers right now in my ear 'considering how little he loves life it doesn't surprise me he loves you more that life!' lol whatever. shut up already you sarcasto)
but I live the pain just as I live the joy; - like a child. I cry a river and I won't stop the tears from falling. I lilke rain.
And I welcome the pain in my life just as I welcomed him

I was so extremely lucky and happy with him, I felt like the luckiest person on this planet to be blessed with such a lover and friend and love.
And when you pick up a coin from the ground it always has two sides to it.

The pain is and has to be equivalent to the joy I felt with you.
And it is all the same: i love you

Berlin - LA

Berlin

Its such a beautiful day
And you hang there
I am drawn in
Days of intensity
Life
And it was such a niee bubble
A womb in the middle of a city
And all I can say now
Is you are
So beautiful
Singing with your guitar
I wish I could have lived forever
Just dreaming away

LA

I want to live in this illusion with such a fierce passion that it pierces my heart late at night
Sometimes I would reach out from my little world and be the amazing hero in the other world, helping those who need it and want it
And then I would retreat peacefully and with dignity into my little fairy tale world
I would cook you dinner and give you a massage I would caress your body and heal it from all the bad
And I would live easy, floating from one step to the next
No effort
No pain
And it is so wonderful to live in a world full of colibris and butterflies oh yeah
There would be no sorrow
And no mountains to climb
And no valleys to look down to
No fucking tears of pain
I want to live in this illusion with such a fierce passion that it stabs my heart in the middle of paying the o-juice and water I buy at the yucca store
And the sun goes down and the violet of the flowers outside the window is seducing us
Music fills the air
But there is silence in my heart
A sobbing is echoing somewhere in a dark corner
And tears are lurking around the corner
They hang out and wait until they hear their cue.
I love you

smart - girl.

you say it hurts too much now?
the legend of philomele, the nightingale says that the nightingale sings so insanly sweet while she is pressing herself against this thorn to kill the pain in her heart.
and the sing-swans they only sing once in their life. when they feel they are going to die they fly into the sky and sing until they die.
and then they fall...
you say it hurts just too much now?
maybe you gotta just be a smart girl now. smart. take the rest into your hands. whatever you can do. smart - girl.

the other life

there is this other life and these other people and when I am there I feel that is how I feel most comfortable after all.
One kind of people is the artists. I remember in Berlin how Ruth invited me to her party and we were in this room, full of circus artists, painters, and what not, and although I already hated by then to attend parties in which I hardly know anybody I totally freaking enjoyed myself so much! I sat there and as someone was climbing up the door frame in order to get over the people standing in the door to get some drinks I thought 'wow, this is just the kind of people I like to hang with. everybody does what they like without coming across as being pretentious or as a show off. Creativity was truly appreciated.
The other kind of people is definetely those that I can have intelligent conversations with, that I can play fun games with in which you have to guess, puzzle, play theater, paint, etc. then jam on the guitar and enjoy the company. smoking sheesha. I know, I know, my love, these are the things you hate and that you don't want me to do but after all, that's where I feel most comfortable.
Nobody sais that feeling comfortable is necessarily the best thing in the world. I am more about developing, growing than having fun all the time. So being with you makes a lot of sense and I love being with you.
But in the end I might have to go just as you feel you have to go.
I wonder for how long people can live in another world.