faint

I almost fainted today.
At first I thought it was just a stolen progression. The sound was so faint. Something that worked well before has the fate of being used, abused, re-used all the time by all the copy cats out there.
Then I realized, that the sound bricks falling through the air actually hit me and since I am made of clay I burst into pieces, all shattered on the floor. But for a milli second, nothing moved. It was, as if the broken splinters hung in mid air for a slice of eternity and the key turned, unlocked the door, the door swung wide open and memories flooded in, steady, fast, like the stream behind my parent´s house in spring time.
We were just looking for food for tonight. Innocently. Being HERE, in the here and now. Enjoying home. We will sleep in a `Jurte´, a Mongolian kind of tent with a whole in the middle where the firesmoke can escape. Me and my old, old scout friends. I haven´t laughed like that in a long time. We were joking and we had fun. I feel safe and home and seen and understood around them because they know me so damn well. The way I like myself best.
I forgot, that you know me the way I like myself the best and the worst. You brought the best and the worst out in me. I stumble. I fall. Then I remember...
It WAS that song. It really was. Lay Lady Lay. Bob Dylan in one of the biggest whole sale stores in a little provincial town in the Black Forest, Germany, probably on the radio, a very unlikely coincidence that made my will crumble and my knees weak. It was annoyingly so but very typically, not loud enough, the elevator or supermarket kind of volume that drives me crazy every day. But almost magically it seemed as if the volume turned up just for me, as I got drawn in, listening attentively. Every single line. Every single instrumental move. The sound. The words. The meaning. My meaning. My memories. My love. My life. All I went through.
You.

wondering at 2 AM - inspired by el mas guapo in DC

i remember when i was 13 and at one of our first ´parties´. we had a pretty clear idea of how parties have to be, you play silly bottle games and dance together in pairs and the broom dance and make yourself go unconscious by breathing really hard for really long.
and you dont sleep for a long time.

we didnt know about anything and i remember sitting melancholicly at the window sill gazing into the stars, the moon, the moon, wondering where you were, who you were, what you were doing at this very moment. looking at the moon like me? longing to be with me as i long to be with you
then i met dany and the stars and the moon lost their romantic shimmer and were just, oh well, objects in the sky. my star was right next to me, in my arms.
the stars and the moon were just the right lighting for our romantic sex on the beach night.

then he broke my heart and went away and ever since i wished i could long at the stars again. make them shimmer again with hope. make my memory erase his name forever so i could long for him again somewhere, unknown. it s melancholy when you dont know the name. its tormenting abyss of pain to know the name
of him who stole the shimmer of the stars, the meaning of the moon and your heart

Brutally Honest

Feelings already formed into figures way high up over the clouds, bouncing around like children in cotton pads.
Feelings disguised in thoughts tormenting me with information. My heart talking, all of the sudden, and so damn loud! I really was wondering whether anybody else coud hear that, it just would`t stop, it wouldn´t stop like the murmurs of the creek behind the house of my childhood.

Brutally honest sometimes a necessity.When the plane touched the ground and bounced a little my fragile defense crumbled into pieces. A few first tears flew through the chilli Frankfurt air in the midst of broad smiles. Hand clapping, yeai, we have arrived safely. No terrorists, no major storms, no other accidents. My first steps on German ground, re-evaluating every inch of home. The bread is so fucking damn amazing here, there is nothing like that anywhere in this whole wide world and I mean it.

Brutally honest notes:

The magic spell of true love in the moment. Hard to wihtdraw from that, so hard to withdraw. Wed the polarities, unite them within self.

In the end. There is family, no matter what you say. It is what it is.

To give in to the overwhelming...

Oh well, I know I DO love you. But there is a but in the equation.
Which is no good.
Insolveable equation, that is.

People living their lives. Things are so different everywhere. Doesn´t make it right, doesn´t make it wrong. We want it so bad for it to be good. So bad.
Nature so rich, almost forgotten, reminding us of the truth beneath everything. Beyond all facettes and differences......lives, going their way, going well, going unwell....
The well the well, where is the well.

A Piece Of Our Love Came To Me Yesterday Night

Not in the mood to even fuck or kiss anymore, just turning to you, lying on the floor, legs spread but nothing like before
our love just in a puddle,
mingled in the middle,
a mix of my tears and your silence and the fears
cum I sucked into me before
so I could have a piece of life of you, just in me
just for you
I know you know there is something
and there was something before.

NOT

At some point I asked myself, whether I could leave this amazing place. I thought, that, which will make it so hard for me to leave, is this place. This living situation with my friends. That we miraculously got the place we envisioned to live in, together. With the amazing neighbours. While my 'wife' Klodi left to Albania and my love eventually left me too all I had was them two. I thought, gosh, I am so lucky, I am so damn lucky that I found at least two really good friends here in this strange city.

Life is treacherous and it always teaches you otherwise.

Hypocritical motherfuckers. The irony is, I'm glad I found out. That you are NOT.

MOTHERFUCKERS

My hands are still shivering and tiny teeny little sobs bubble up inside of me to dissolve my sight.
A knife in the back, you fucking motherfuckers. How can you do that.
Voices fighting inside my head. One says, it's probably the saccharin angel, hey it's all good, it's probably for the best but the other voice just can't forgive that people don't even bother to make things work.
I could include myself in that one probably. Too self absorbed with my petty little problems. Who fucking cares.
Living alone is probably better. It still hurts, it's probably the immediate shock, it ripples through my body. They just asked me to leave. In two week.s Motherfuckers.
You have a sister in Santa Monica they say. You can leave your stuff there.
One of them, she used to be such a good friend, she says, you know, it's like staying in a dysfunctional relationship. I'd rather save our friendship by not living together. Whatever. THANK YOU BITCH. THanks for kicking me out of my dream house. Thanks for your patience. THanks for your interest in my life. Thanks for asking what was wrong with me. Thanks for caring when a bus almost ran me over. Thanks you stupid motherfuckers.
I wonder whether it's really for the best. Or whether it's just the easy way out. And, can I forgive them.
THey probably do that only because that french girls need a room. ANd doeson't she fit perfectly in your girly world.
I can't even walk outside into the night now because i am such a fucking giant pussy and don't wanna see anyone of them. I feel like moving out in the night when nobody sees me. I am so fucking embarrassed. That's it. man. At the core of it I am just plainly embarrassed. How did that fucking happen???? Am I really like a really blind idiot? Like a really egotistical self absorbed asshole that one can't live with? That's probably what boyfriends and girlfriends ask themselves when somebody breaks up with them. It's breaking up time, big time. One of them just broke up with ehr boyfriend again. And they break up with me.
Because it's important . you know. instead of ruining it. the dysfunctional relationship that has to be sacrificed to make it all better.
Am I the idiot? Do i have a hard time to face the truth or can it be that they are just MOTHERFUCKERS????

k-o-k-o

Koko fell on the stairs
her legs twisted
didn't utter a sound
faced the dirty ground
passengers just stared
seemed to be nobody's round

K-o-ko she said
make up artist and
cops suck and smell bad

fuck fuck fuck in such a lovely voice
her right half blue and red and swollen -did she have a choice?
the asshole guy from the last seat
came and comforted said I'll kill that motherfucker
how did he become so sweet

but you just don't beat, oh you just don't beat a woman

and Koko just waved her hand
like the Queen from England
but she was from Denmark
could harldy walk could hardly talk

her smile took away all the shame
i saw the despair but pretended it's all the same
she peed in her pants as she held on to that tree
Koko Koko they just can't see

and when she cried that tear
we held each other her room was messy
like those people who can't let go
slow suicide without any hope

she said I'm fine I'm fine
dignity lost right there on the street
when she wetted her own cold feet
but I believe in God she said

Koko, Koko what makes you human
the little girl in your eyes
Koko, Koko, what makes you human

that tear you cried
but not of fear
when it fell on the ground
it made a sound
the sound of a smile

(and i know this is going to sound like an attempt to rhyme but
it occured to me that this is what makes:

life worthwhile

blue tears

dunno whether i really wanna call this blue tears. Maybe I should call this rather 'patience and green eyes' because that's what they said their street names were.
you know, you gotta understand, this one is tough. It's not like I am going to sound accurate or anything. If I could, I would draw you a picture, draw you in. Zoom into the socks, surprisingly whitish, and the dry black skin perking out inbetween the pants and the shoes. The sweater he hurdled up at his chest, where the heart is, and the rest of a coke line on his left nostril.
His eyes dwelling up when he sang this song about his mother who 'did some things not right but she had to do them and she always saw that he had toys for X-mas'. She was a hooker, his father gone. With 13 he bought her diamonds from the first street money he had earned himself. She never wanted him to go there but she knew that he had to do what he had to do just like herself. The yearning for a father who was never there, the attempt to replace this lost man in her life...
'Green eyes' nodding his head from time to time, looking straight into my eyes, relentlessly sinking deep into my heart. Looking away. Hiding his moist eyes but he couldn't he couldn't, we already had crossed the line and stood naked in front of each other. There were no masks anymore somehow, no piss stained clothes or ground mattered nor did my french barret or beautifully fucked up boots.
'Patience' had asked whether we wanted to hear a song and we, full of life-celebrating energy turned around on our heels, heading back up Yucca, to the dirty entrance hall they were dining at.
He started to sing. His voice so raw and soft in the same time, praising the woman, women in a man's life. The woman, who lifts him up and brings him down, a woman who makes him human who saves him from drowning. A woman who is worth more than anything he's ever seen but oh she can be mean. He loves women, that was for sure and we were kind of bummed out, literally, fazed by the coincidence; we were so beautiful. Women.
And green eyes, thoughtfully agreeing with him after certain lines of lyric, chewing away on his late lunch that he ate as proper as can be, with fork, knife and napkin, you see.
Sometimes he would shake his head or smile and nod with his head as if saying, yes, oh yeah, that it is. Blues, turning things around, giving a perspective to too deep a salty sea. Making you laugh in the saddest of love songs.
'God, I will sell you my soul, do anything you want me to do, but if the devil brings back my love I will sell it to him too...'
The underlying longing strong like a wild mountain current, the lack of beauty in his life, the lack of beauty in the form of a woman, the most beautiful form that there is - bursting out like water out of a rusty pipe in northern Russia in spring time.
We, mesmerized and I desperately observing, taking in, breathing in, all too aware of the contrasts, savoring them like a bum savors his last drops of liquor in a cold chilli winter night.
How they both dried their tears with stained sleeves trying to hide what makes them human - a tear that makes the sound of a smile when it hits the grey ground.
The life story told in thousand and one words, in a cascade like a waterfall, rolling over us like a relentless wave from a raging sea - the urge to be heard overwhelmingly deafening, the fear.
The blue tear.

lost songs

the sun is pouring into the room with a vengeance I have rarely known in my life. sun, sun, I beg you to shine, sun sun, lover mine.
echoes from childhood days, distant memories from the girl I have once been driving the bike, singing into a threatening black thunderstorm sky, south France, so courageous...I didn't understand one word and yet lived with this family for one month. Children... And the tree was such a great hiding place. Ah. Orchids in an unabundance that startled my mind.

What was it I wanted?
What was it I wanted?
What was it I wanted?
What was it I wanted?

Ah my love, you I wanted you, sitting on window sills while the parties were going on, drifting past me as I was looking at multiple moons with veils of tears blearing the sharp edges in my eyes.

Ah my love but now I swirl around like a cricket on lovedrugs. Now I look into mirrors and seek for my hasty self, lost in the mirage of dreams-to-have-to-come-true.

Ah my love, you, I wanted you all along and when you left you left space to breathe for me and now that you are gone I have to learn how to be alone and now that you have gone all those songs won't come along and now that you have gone I want to run away, somewhere, into the blue, I want to run, run, run far away, like back in the days, hide and seek

would you find me

like we found each other?

I can never be alone again.
it aches.
it hurts.
this is me in lost pain.