Heroin(e)

Walking down the streets at night
I see her stumbling through the rain
a skinny figure in the dark
her face a shade of grey

Begging here and barking there
she’s swearing all the time
her fingers fumbling with her hair
a dirty mess of grime

and she starts to cry and she’s asking why
her life’s always the same
but she does not see, that unfortunately
there’s no one here to blame

Heroin, she said, was the best I had
no more mountains left to climb.
the world’s so slow, all my dreams just too high
to be fulfilled in time.

She grabs my arm and I feel alarmed
her fingers gripping tight
I see her pleading eyes so I start to disguise
and say, that everything’s alright.

and the reason why I pretended and lied
is that I don’t want to kill
the poor dream that’s left in the deepest cleft
of the thing that she calls will.

Heroin, she said, was the best I had
no more mountains left to climb.
oh the world’s so slow, all my dreams just too high
to be fulfilled in time.

I am missing you once again and forever, Anita.

Secrets

Es ist erst morgen, wenn ich wieder wach bin.

Alsooo… immer noch Ancas Geburtstag! Hurrah! Ich möchte hiermit alles Liebe wünschen (und noch ein paar andere Sachen, die ich gar nicht alle aufzählen kann – aber das schöne Bauchgefühl beim Gedanken daran ist einfach nur gut) und freu mich einfach mal, daß sie (ja, Du!) schon so lange ein Teil meines persönlichen Netzwerks von Menschen ist, die mir wirklich was bedeuten auf dieser Welt. Hurrah I say once more, with confidence.

Nur so ein kleiner Gedanke, der mir heute noch durch den Kopf gegangen ist:

Ich reagier auf meine Nicknames. Im Karanet mag das keinen so großen Unterschied machen aber anderswo bin ich immer wieder erstaunt darüber. Läßt mich darüber nachdenken, ob wir (wir Geeks oder so…) nicht alle an einer leichten Form von multipler Persönlichkeitsstörung leiden…. oder vielleicht ist das auch normal? Wirtschaftskrise, Arbeit, Beruf, Beziehung, dies und das das und jenes und irgendwie zieht man seine Mindsets wie Mäntel über. Oder Kondome. Feel free to choose your favourite metaphor.

In Soviet Russia thoughts have you.

Ersma schlafen, wie Helge sagen würde.

Secrets

P.S.: PATHOS!!

Jet-black, soft, alive

These three adjectives could describe the following:

• Kinky
• darkness
• the… one black thing that lives under your bed and nobody dares to speak its name (in my case that would be Kinky, again.)

Okay.  I am listening to Rome right now. In case you haven’t heard me saying it yet: They’re great! Their songs manage to sadden me and cheer me up in a very dark way – all at once. Enjoy.

Slowly letting the day slip away. It was great, I really enjoyed your company. You know who you are.

Good night, y’all.

Secrets

Picture of a couple, GothEdition(tm)

Back in broad daylight. It was a good little thing while it lasted.

It’s cute, don’t you think?

Secrets

BLACK HORDES!!

Summon!

Carpe noctem,

Secrets

Post # 222

so much to witty headlines.

I thought about adding this posting for so long that it almost drove me crazy (okay, no significant change in apparent behaviour, but… on the inside, you …don’t want to know…)

So. This is a historic posting – at least pun-wise.
When it comes to actual content …. I am not sure. Loads of stuff happened lately, but I am not really in the mood to blog about it.

I noticed a certain pattern in my published mind-junk. I seem to only enjoy posting when it relieves me of some inner burden, a Gordian knot inside of me that needs to be untied here and here alone.

*thinks*
It’s actually not a Gordian knot (or some other entanglement of the mind, choose your favourite metaphor) anymore when I start writing on a posting here. It’s more of a web-based celebration of inner relief experienced in TheRealLife(tm).

Yes, it’s a follow-up on pen-and-paper catharsis that somehow needs to be remembered. Mostly by myself (No-puns-intended-nostalgia: “It’s my blog, I don’t care, haha!).

Examination extraordinaire (i.e. blatant fact): I am not always happy and at ease when I write. Writing in itself though is an act of moving on, of reflection (self and world and bunnies and sex and love and hate and stuff) and therefore necessary and highly valuable.
The postings seem to be (no, they actually are) redundant, I cannot see (or rather read) the process of change, my development, changes of behaviour or personality … you hopefully all catch my drift. Which makes me think: Do I change? How do I change? Is it obvious when reading this blog? Do I really need to see it in my written words or are my postings so repetitive for a reason I do not yet know?

Questions, questions, so many of them. And again I feel like I asked and stated this countless times already and somehow I guess I always until now knew and know the answer. It will lead me to even more questions and it’s good that way.

And hey, as long as you’ve enjoyed the read….

Yours,

Secrets