personal

Funny
the four agreements
so simple
so effective

Don't take anything personal
Don't make any assumptions
Always do your best
Be impeccable with your word

I just had this long conversation with a woman who runs a great Cafe here.
Problems over problems with her business partner.

Takes everything too personal.
Too personal

Setting Sun

.

Yesterday I read a column in the Times about an online project that asks people to tell their life story in only six words. Hemingway style.
This is mine: Sunset: Loving who is dying inside.

you don't know what it's like he says and spits on the roof. his wary hand doesn't find the cigarette, stuck in the corner of his mouth, it went out, out like his eyes died just seconds ago and the lighter is just a faint replica of fires we once knew, faded memories...
all this, i have seen before and I don't have much time. The old brickstone building, with the mysterious redlit windows in the dark. The Japanese Restaurant I won't ever afford. The hills. The castle. The street. The dirt. The dizziness of life on the fast lane.
I swallow some tears, they are salty. Look away. Look back. His words tumble into the somber darkness like puppies that just learned to walk. I could feed them. Heed them. But I don't. Tonight I just listen. Hold his arms. His back. His heart.
I know that I don't know. At least that much. How can such a lucky person and such an unlucky person be so in love?
That's what I would like to know sometimes.

Later, on my old futon that I bought for twenty bucks from the creepy old Russian guy, I swayed back and forth between heart beats and heavy breathing.
You know nothing about what it's like to love someone who is dying inside.

this is what jamming with him feels like

a beautiful story to tell

looking back i see and feel so much
and looking forward from this place is like looking into a apricot golden sunset at home

many times i told strangers and loved ones that this place has always been the last place i would have ever imagined myself at.
to the point that i wouldn't even have thought about it in the last of my dreams
and so there i was, thrown in by life and circumstance, learning to take steps within my own future.
like writing a story on the go
without knowing where the next word would lead you to.
it's a feeling as if i was a stranger in my own world
a fiction in my own reality

looking back i see and feel so much

infinite stories wrapped into one
the helicopters accompanying my pounding fists
scorching heat assembling tears and fears
lonely moments of moon, stars and palmwinds soothing my soul

there is the ocean and the shore
with love filled memories painting tales of being found and lost
and lost and found
learning to make money and music
find souls and feel a knife in my back
the red haired friend who disappeared in disappointment
the curls of your raven black hair haunting my dreams
friends who just are
to be with
and streets to be walked if you take the steps
trees, wind and sun and rain

who do we turn to
to bow and spill our gratitude
for a half moon in the heavens
and palmtrees in the night
stars eternally being cold and comforting
holding the names of unknown lovers hostage

when i look back i feel so much
i just
wonder
marvel
thank
so much

.

build to last.
memories so fickle.
disappearing and resurfacing arbitrarily
build to last
love for a life time
almost like trying to capture air in a tower
when it's already everywhere
getting fucked by every living thing with a lung
out there
and you
you ask me now
where to go and what to do

and i sit back
and an old friend visits me
resurfacing
fickle
and dancing
laughing

a memory
that resurfaces
right time
right mind

it says 'you will never know until you go'
and that the worst vice is advice.

in the middle - a wishing well

it s early xmas eve.
you sitting somewhere
you you you
the big D
the word that everybody knows is inevitably part in every of my conversations
the word that she changed, shortened,
the word that I won t give up

she has been a shadow all these summer months
over my brightness
and I couldn t just walk away
to see whether there was sun in
other places too
so I stayed
and you too
and the shadow
cooling a boiling heart but
alas
inept
inapt

THE ASHES THE ASHES - will they fertilize new ground?

will they be our blessing?



I wish for it
in a starry night
way up in the mountains
with a big halo around the full moon
with my muscles aching
my heart on stand by
secretly yearning

Once upon a time
I dreamt
a wishing well....
I leaned over it
saw my reflection
my long hair
it fell

when I got up it had turned golden and I
I had forgotten
who I was
and where you were
and if we already had met
and whether I knew your name

but i knew
it was your love
that I was wishing for

(Im not sure about the ending yet)

she got the blues

caught up in the struggle
to be alright
to do what it takes
to sleep at night

she got the blues
she used to give great advice
we all have it in us
just not just right now
maybe later

things I regret
like a treasure chest
full of glory
sunken
in silence
can't regret no more
you gotta give and take
right now
not later

all these mornings i didn't get up
didn't see nor look out there
tangled up in his arms in silence
changed it for a world in here
seeing, feeling, thinking through
his beloved heart beat
his holding me
so precious
and
his breath
like the ocean
rolling in and out
of my soul
teaching me love
in a language that doesn't know words
or any kind of loud infiltrations
evaluations or judgemets or
the better of anything
no cold hard shapes or forms
just a flower blossoming
singing in color
in a silence that teaches nothing
and all

can't regret
all the losses that occured
in an other world
you gotta take
and give
as long as it is
not just a dream
not longing
or yearning
anymore

she is scared
got a now to lose
see,
it's a trade baby
for a space
to long
to yearn
all over again

nurse (I miss you.) (I miss for anyone who loved to take two steps towards each other)

it's something about
taking care
nourishing
and you walk, trying to keep the blood from
merging with eternity
lick your wounds or just forget them
either way
there will be salt some where

and in a short moment you look up
inbetween runs
to make ends meet
realizing you are only
twenty four
halfway grown up
but so busy anyway

little joys
to be shared
die and drown in moments
that you spend too far away
from anyone anywhere

the middle point of the earth shifts
you look up and see her
somewhere far away
(nourish? care?)
for now just
waving
being waved back
and we keep licking
or forgetting
either way

there is salt in tears

the offering

it upsets me
and i keep stumbling over it
it's not so much the other side
but my side that i am crying for
wanting your touch
rejecting it in real time
friends pale like falling leaves
forgotten strengths sailing
far away
you can just hold me and it will be ok
but words fail so many times
it's like keeping eating rotten rats
when there is nowhere to hide anymore
and dirt seeths through my windows
everything clogged up
reality no more
life is stranger than fiction
and i am dying thereof
i love you in so many strange ways
but i cant make it right
don't have the greatness that it d take
i am not Him
and i don't even sing to Him enough
failing again

waiting for the day that you will read this
true curiosity about me
the one you are sleeping next to.

rocking gently back and forth in your arms
dreams sway me away
the wee morning hours don't last long
soon
they will come
to get the last pieces of my offering

free

whispers beneath the ice
idle in dreaming

i found my child again
a life beyond the expected
it was never meant to be any different
there is nothing you can do
only yourself
go yourself

love transcendent
transcending into the skies
the heavens
the earth

know that i love you
but i have to be free
from wanting you

because you are already there

lost in translation

you walk the line
and in the dark of the night you turn into an ocean
into a taifun
storming
taking me all the way
sweeping the remains of complaints away
in a whirl wind
and the morning is strange
as if returning from the forbidden city
no water no more
only dry hard wall

leaving
a question mark
how much of care has become
whatever again
steps back
steps forth
i can't tell

did you mean me

falling leaves

In Berlin it is grey now and the geese will sing on their way back south.

It is cold where you are now, my friend. Thus I send a little fire to you
It is dark where you are my friend, so take this little light from me.
One day I will come to you back home and our friends they will come too.
We will sing as we did last time and it's warm like never before.
Oh Boy, she is waiting long for you. There in the dark she takes you by the hand.
In my dreams I see you at a beautiful day, all alone, but one day we will sing just as always and it is warm like never before. We will sing as we always have, and it is warm like never before. (translation from a song by 2Raumwohnung from Berlin)

It is sunny in Hollywood and breathtakingly beautiful. Green, green, a soft breeze.
I am quiet, quiet as a wishing well.
He rained rose petals on me.
Things will happen when you come to them.

Freedom

There I sit in the night. It's my night because nobody knows that I am here.
The Internet connection is there only feeble but I saw it and it incited that spark that I needed to become aware of this.
This is my night.
It is my night.
Split into half in the reflections of the mirrored door that hides my little kitchenette.
Just hair to the waist and skin. It is my reflection. In my little room. That is mine tonight. Nobody knows that I am here.
Ah, how I love it.
Neneh Cherry. My music. Nobody to disagree with. My taste. My pace.

Sometimes it takes strange nights for strange thoughts.
You gotta be fortunate. Yeah.
Remembering all. Remembering it all.
All those stories. Of lonely nights. Many nights. That were all mine.
Strange vibes. Strange emotions. Strange thoughts and ideas. In a woman's world. this is my world. Fluorescent blue the shimmer on my skin. Reflections of technology. And I am wearing the mask sometimes. At night. On the way what we call home. Yet just being a transient among transients. A dirty bus. Dirty tired faces. Masks. And involuntarily almost, yet protectively, I acquired it too.
The big city mask. Wearing the weary mask.
Defensive. Inflexible. Smiles come a long way. Tired. Evasive. Introverted. Curious, secretively.

There I sit. Naked.