In the last 26 hours I've only had about 3 1/2 hours sleep. Let's say I've been working. For no money. This is always the case with me. I choose something I enjoy doing, but there is no money available for me. I do so much copywriting for free. Many people who were in my shoes would complain. But I don't really see the point in complaining about something that I enjoy doing.
Now talking about the Reeperbahn Festival - I didn't enjoy it, because I didn't feel much involved. I was never interested in the festival in first place, but I agreed to copywrite, because I wanted the experience. Besides I was part of the press. I got in everywhere without hassle. But however I didn't get much involved, the entire team or crew was doing its thing without informing me entirely about the latest news. It was chaotic. I didn't even have the feeling they gave a shit about me being there, either. I just filled in some gaps...that's all I did. And whenever I talk, they don't even seem to hear me. So in the end I just didn't bother. I couldn't enjoy the festival really, because none of the fucking bands interested me and I was only asked to interview one, which was Molotov Jive from Sweden. They did a boat gig and were in a hurry. So the interview only lasted 2m30sec or something like that. Ridiculous, but it made me feel like how I used to feel. That was my first interview since The Haunted this January. At least a little bit of fun and experience.
Another horrible thing were the McDonald Eat-for-free vouchers. It's terrible when you can't afford the food that you wanna eat. Or when you're in such a hurry that you cannot be bothered to find the food that you are after. So why not get some shit to eat, since it's for free? I think next time I'll choose to starve. I'd have had so much more fun working as a copywriter at the Hurricane Festival. I'd have done my own thing then.
Who cares now.
When it's cold and I'm stressed, my skin would start to itch because it's dry. Like today. I scratched so hard that I started to bleed. I'm such a wimp because my skin can't even deal with the coldness in autumn. What if I was in Canada in the deep winter? I think I'd simply skin myself with my nails.
Tiredness is kicking in finally. Mustn't sleep too long tonight. I need to get up in time to vote. Just to make it clear: I'm not voting for the sake of Germany. I'm not voting because to everyone it seems to be the right thing to do.
I vote because I'm given the chance to make my own decision about something. If I ever get a choice, I tend to grab it. I don't support any of the parties. I agree and disagree with all of them. I'm not a Democrat, but I have democratic attitudes, because I love the idea of choice, but it doesn't mean I'm on anyone's side. I still haven't made up my mind about my second choice, though.
On the way home I was observing the people on the train. There was this guy who looked like he has been through a lot of emotional conflicts tonight. Maybe his girlfriend had a go at him for being an arsehole. However he didn't look like he meant to do any harm to anyone. Exhaustion and washed out anger could be spotted around his eyes and on his cheeks.
Then there were a lot of teenage girls (all blonde) traveling by train at about 3am. Looked like they had spent their weekend at the Reeperbahn Festival. They reminded me of The Virgin Suicides. They had this sympathising way of looking at one another. Sometimes I recognised envy and sometimes pretense. Who cares anyway? They seemed happy.
The men I looked at had this sharp and fierce glare, which freaked me out. When you see a man with reddened skin you know that he has been drinking too much. What a turn-off.
Tonight I noticed that people looking at me tended to stare below, rather than look me in the face. When I interviewed the singer from Molotov Jive, he was constantly keeping eye contact with me, but I couldn't. My eyes wandered off, as if I wasn't even interested in the things he was saying.
Well for the sake of my soul...leave me alone.
Samstag, 26. September 2009
First night sleeping with lights off
In the last 26 hours I've only had about 3 1/2 hours sleep. Let's say I've been working. For no money. This is always the case with me. I choose something I enjoy doing, but there is no money available for me. I so much copywriting for free. Many people who are in my shoes would complain. But I don't really see the point in complaining about something that I enjoy doing.
Now talking about the Reeperbahn Festival - I didn't enjoy it, because I didn't feel much involved. I was never interested in the festival in first place, but I agreed to copywrite, because I wanted the experience. Besides I was part of the press. I got in everywhere without hassle. But however I didn't get much involved, the entire team or crew was doing its thing without informing me entirely about the latest news. It was chaotic. I didn't even have the feeling they gave a shit about me being there, either. I just filled in some gaps...that's all I did. And whenever I talk, they don't even seem to hear me. So in the end I just didn't bother. I couldn't enjoy the festival really, because none of the fucking bands interested me and I was only asked to interview one, which was Molotov Jive from Sweden. They did a boat gig and were in a hurry. So the interview only lasted 2m30sec or something like that. Ridiculous, but it made me feel like I felt last year. That was my first interview since The Haunted this January. At least a little bit of fun and experience.
Another horrible thing were the McDonald Eat-for-free vouchers. It's terrible when you can't afford the food that you wanna eat. Or when you're in such a hurry that you cannot be bothered to find the food that you are after. So why not get some shit to eat, since it's for free? I think next time I'll choose to starve. I'd have had so much more fun working as a copywriter at the Hurricane Festival. I'd have done my own thing then.
Who cares.
When it's cold and I'm stressed, my skin would start to itch. Like today. I scratched so hard that I started to bleed. I'm such a wimp because my skin can't even deal with the coldness in autumn. What if I was in Canada in the deep winter? I think I'd simply skin myself with my nails.
Tiredness is kicking in finally. Mustn't sleep too long tonight. I need to get up in time to vote. Just to make it clear: I'm not voting for the sake of Germany. I'm not voting because to everyone it seems to be the right thing to do.
I vote because I'm given the chance to make my own decision about something. If I ever get a choice, I tend to grab it. I don't support any of the parties. I agree and disagree with all of them. I'm not a Democrat, but I have democratic attitudes, because I love the idea of choice, but it doesn't mean I'm on anyone's side. I still haven't made up my mind about my second choice, though.
On the way home I was observing the people on the train. There was this guy who looked like he has been through a lot of emotional conflicts tonight. Maybe his girlfriend had a go at him for being an arsehole. However he didn't look like he meant to do any harm to anyone. Exhaustion and washed out anger could be spotted around his eyes and on his cheeks.
Then there were a lot of teenage girls (all blonde) traveling by train at about 3am. Looked like they had spent their weekend at the Reeperbahn Festival. They reminded me of The Virgin Suicides. They had this sympathising way of looking at one another. Sometimes I recognised envy and sometimes pretense. Who cares anyway? They seemed happy.
The men I looked at had this sharp and fierce glare, which freaked me out. When you see a man with reddened skin you know that he has been drinking too much. What a turn off.
Tonight I noticed that people looking at me tended to stare below, rather than look me in the face. When I interviewed the singer from Molotov Jive, he was constantly keeping eye contact with me, but I couldn't. My eyes wandered off, as if I wasn't even interested in the things he was saying.
Well for the sake of my soul...leave me alone.
Now talking about the Reeperbahn Festival - I didn't enjoy it, because I didn't feel much involved. I was never interested in the festival in first place, but I agreed to copywrite, because I wanted the experience. Besides I was part of the press. I got in everywhere without hassle. But however I didn't get much involved, the entire team or crew was doing its thing without informing me entirely about the latest news. It was chaotic. I didn't even have the feeling they gave a shit about me being there, either. I just filled in some gaps...that's all I did. And whenever I talk, they don't even seem to hear me. So in the end I just didn't bother. I couldn't enjoy the festival really, because none of the fucking bands interested me and I was only asked to interview one, which was Molotov Jive from Sweden. They did a boat gig and were in a hurry. So the interview only lasted 2m30sec or something like that. Ridiculous, but it made me feel like I felt last year. That was my first interview since The Haunted this January. At least a little bit of fun and experience.
Another horrible thing were the McDonald Eat-for-free vouchers. It's terrible when you can't afford the food that you wanna eat. Or when you're in such a hurry that you cannot be bothered to find the food that you are after. So why not get some shit to eat, since it's for free? I think next time I'll choose to starve. I'd have had so much more fun working as a copywriter at the Hurricane Festival. I'd have done my own thing then.
Who cares.
When it's cold and I'm stressed, my skin would start to itch. Like today. I scratched so hard that I started to bleed. I'm such a wimp because my skin can't even deal with the coldness in autumn. What if I was in Canada in the deep winter? I think I'd simply skin myself with my nails.
Tiredness is kicking in finally. Mustn't sleep too long tonight. I need to get up in time to vote. Just to make it clear: I'm not voting for the sake of Germany. I'm not voting because to everyone it seems to be the right thing to do.
I vote because I'm given the chance to make my own decision about something. If I ever get a choice, I tend to grab it. I don't support any of the parties. I agree and disagree with all of them. I'm not a Democrat, but I have democratic attitudes, because I love the idea of choice, but it doesn't mean I'm on anyone's side. I still haven't made up my mind about my second choice, though.
On the way home I was observing the people on the train. There was this guy who looked like he has been through a lot of emotional conflicts tonight. Maybe his girlfriend had a go at him for being an arsehole. However he didn't look like he meant to do any harm to anyone. Exhaustion and washed out anger could be spotted around his eyes and on his cheeks.
Then there were a lot of teenage girls (all blonde) traveling by train at about 3am. Looked like they had spent their weekend at the Reeperbahn Festival. They reminded me of The Virgin Suicides. They had this sympathising way of looking at one another. Sometimes I recognised envy and sometimes pretense. Who cares anyway? They seemed happy.
The men I looked at had this sharp and fierce glare, which freaked me out. When you see a man with reddened skin you know that he has been drinking too much. What a turn off.
Tonight I noticed that people looking at me tended to stare below, rather than look me in the face. When I interviewed the singer from Molotov Jive, he was constantly keeping eye contact with me, but I couldn't. My eyes wandered off, as if I wasn't even interested in the things he was saying.
Well for the sake of my soul...leave me alone.
Dienstag, 22. September 2009
00111001
1 x 9 = 9
2 x 9 = 18 -> 1 + 8 = 9
3 x 9 = 27 -> 2 + 7 = 9
4 x 9 = 36 -> 3 + 6 = 9
5 x 9 = 45 -> 4 + 5 = 9
6 x 9 = 54 -> 5 + 4 = 9
7 x 9 = 63 -> 6 + 3 = 9
8 x 9 = 72 -> 7 + 2 = 9
9 x 9 = 81 -> 8 + 1 = 9
10 x 9 = 90 -> 9 + 0 = 9
11 x 9 = 99 -> 9 + 9 = 18 -> 1 + 8 = 9
12 x 9 = 108 -> 1 + 0 + 8 = 9
13 x 9 = 117 -> 1 + 1 + 7 = 9
263 x 9 = 2367 -> 2 + 3 + 6 +7 = 18 -> 1 + 8 = 9
7 + 7 + 1 + 9 + 8 + 4 = 36 -> 3 + 6 = 9
2 x 9 = 18 -> 1 + 8 = 9
3 x 9 = 27 -> 2 + 7 = 9
4 x 9 = 36 -> 3 + 6 = 9
5 x 9 = 45 -> 4 + 5 = 9
6 x 9 = 54 -> 5 + 4 = 9
7 x 9 = 63 -> 6 + 3 = 9
8 x 9 = 72 -> 7 + 2 = 9
9 x 9 = 81 -> 8 + 1 = 9
10 x 9 = 90 -> 9 + 0 = 9
11 x 9 = 99 -> 9 + 9 = 18 -> 1 + 8 = 9
12 x 9 = 108 -> 1 + 0 + 8 = 9
13 x 9 = 117 -> 1 + 1 + 7 = 9
263 x 9 = 2367 -> 2 + 3 + 6 +7 = 18 -> 1 + 8 = 9
7 + 7 + 1 + 9 + 8 + 4 = 36 -> 3 + 6 = 9
Mittwoch, 16. September 2009
To fuck you up
So full of __ and I don't even know how I've managed to fill myself up so badly the last couple of weeks. I've still not __, either.
It's horrible at __, when all the employees who get on with each other gather around in the common room and leave me alone on __. You just sit there and eat __, which are probably not for free, but they neither have price tags nor __. So who the fuck cares?
My hands are constantly building __ when they are __. I have this urge to __, to __ and to __ those who deserve it. My sense for __ has highly evolved. Day by day I can't think of anything else. It's wasting so much of my __ that I haven't got much __ left to deal with other business other than __.
I wonder what I have to do, so that everyone in this world will be __ with me. And I wonder whether I'm __ yet to move to the next __. I seem to long for it very badly, but I don't even know where to start. I haven't met __ yet who is ready to pay all his __ to me. I long for a __, a __ that causes this special __ and I long for a protective __. Someone who doesn't ask __ and is __ right there with me. Someone who does the __ for real. I don't want __ anymore.
I just want to sincerely fall __ again. But right now this is not __ for me. There is way too much to be __. I can't tell whether __ or __ are suitable for me. At least __ is an appropriate way to avoid __; __ contact is at least something. As long as you feel wanted for a __ or two. It's probably best if he doesnt __ too much, just to avoid __ at the wrong time. But hey, it's __ that I'm talking about. They don't necessarily want __. It doesn't __ them as much anyway if it doesn't work out.
I'm running out of __. What would do me good right now is to have __ and __ with someone like __. I wonder what it'd be like to fall asleep in his __. Is he really that __ underneath that __? I guess I will never know.
This is what I call a mini __ that currently happens every __ at about 4 or 5 in the __. I don't know what I would do without it. That's the thing about me. I don't need __ to talk to with my mouth. As long as I have my __ that tell me how I __, I am alright. They probably make me feel __ in a way but it's ok; it doesn't bother me that much. I know that I will __ what I __ later.
Nothing can __ me now.
It's horrible at __, when all the employees who get on with each other gather around in the common room and leave me alone on __. You just sit there and eat __, which are probably not for free, but they neither have price tags nor __. So who the fuck cares?
My hands are constantly building __ when they are __. I have this urge to __, to __ and to __ those who deserve it. My sense for __ has highly evolved. Day by day I can't think of anything else. It's wasting so much of my __ that I haven't got much __ left to deal with other business other than __.
I wonder what I have to do, so that everyone in this world will be __ with me. And I wonder whether I'm __ yet to move to the next __. I seem to long for it very badly, but I don't even know where to start. I haven't met __ yet who is ready to pay all his __ to me. I long for a __, a __ that causes this special __ and I long for a protective __. Someone who doesn't ask __ and is __ right there with me. Someone who does the __ for real. I don't want __ anymore.
I just want to sincerely fall __ again. But right now this is not __ for me. There is way too much to be __. I can't tell whether __ or __ are suitable for me. At least __ is an appropriate way to avoid __; __ contact is at least something. As long as you feel wanted for a __ or two. It's probably best if he doesnt __ too much, just to avoid __ at the wrong time. But hey, it's __ that I'm talking about. They don't necessarily want __. It doesn't __ them as much anyway if it doesn't work out.
I'm running out of __. What would do me good right now is to have __ and __ with someone like __. I wonder what it'd be like to fall asleep in his __. Is he really that __ underneath that __? I guess I will never know.
This is what I call a mini __ that currently happens every __ at about 4 or 5 in the __. I don't know what I would do without it. That's the thing about me. I don't need __ to talk to with my mouth. As long as I have my __ that tell me how I __, I am alright. They probably make me feel __ in a way but it's ok; it doesn't bother me that much. I know that I will __ what I __ later.
Nothing can __ me now.
Sonntag, 13. September 2009
People = SHIT
Isn't it weird that there are moments where you choose to freeze? It's not even quite autumn yet, so wearing long sleeve cotton pyjamas would still be too warm. Therefore you choose some random medium-sized t-shirt and you wear nothing else except that and panties. The window of course needs to be open, but the door closed, because others are attempting to sleep. Yes, it's cold, but why should it bother you?
I have this urge of keeping away from people. Particularly those who have a birthday soon and want to celebrate. It's so exhausting. When will people quit that? On Ali's birthday on Friday, I thought I should just give it a go, because the party might turn out well for me somehow and maybe I would get to know some nice people. Fuck that really. All boozers and numerous smokers. My eyes began to burn. Smoking indoors is a horrible thing. There was this one guy (mid thirties maybe - perfect age, but not my type) who was chatting to some of my aquaintances. By the way he eyed me I knew he wanted to talk to me, too, but I stuck around with Pete most of the time, partly because I wanted to prevent that guy from talking to me. What do I fucking want from those people? I don't like talking to anyone at parties about myself. What will they remember? Besides, I don't drink and I don't smoke indoors. I don't even understand why people enjoy house parties. I don't think I'd have gone there, if Pete hadn't gone. He does enjoy socialising, but he doesn't drink, either. Basically we both were the only ones who didn't get into the same kind of mood as everyone. If you want to force me to drink, you can fuck right off. Fucking hell I wish I my body was able to bear the effect of alcohol. And I wish I loved the taste of alcohol, but I don't, I don't! If that bothers you, just tell me to go. As simple as. I don't want to know how many people blamed the alcohol for certain things that happened that night. If you ever blame the alcohol for something like cheating or throwing up, you are a fucking wanker. How pathetic. Damn you...!
I am very picky with the people I choose generally. I like my friends and people neutral with strong personalities. People who don't keep secrets from me, don't mess with me and don't lie to me. Honesty and openness...all that shit, you know. Nothing more that I need. I don't put much value on reliability in friendship anymore, because I am not someone to count on, either. However, it doesn't mean that I don't try. The idea of friendship has become a big issue lately. I think there are times where I shouldn't take it too seriously and simply sit back and wait. It's not always my business what others are up to. But it becomes my business when I find out that my trust and belief in that person have been abused. And still you have to keep your mouth shut sometimes. The only reason why I'm keeping mine shut right now is because I can't be fucking bothered.
To conclude: Do what the fuck you want. I refuse to run after anyone. I won't run after anyone anymore. I've shown enough times that I care. And at the end of the day I'm always the one who gets the short end of the fucking stick. Deal with your problems on your own.
I find it important that people know what they want. Nevertheless there is something even more important: It's not what you want that always counts, what counts more is actually what is GOOD for you. If you know what is GOOD for you, so much the better. I'm not in the mood for people who are blind on the inside.
I judge what I see, observe and experience. I judge when I myself feel affected. If I let you tell me your opinion, you fucking listen to mine!
People are making me tired.
I have this urge of keeping away from people. Particularly those who have a birthday soon and want to celebrate. It's so exhausting. When will people quit that? On Ali's birthday on Friday, I thought I should just give it a go, because the party might turn out well for me somehow and maybe I would get to know some nice people. Fuck that really. All boozers and numerous smokers. My eyes began to burn. Smoking indoors is a horrible thing. There was this one guy (mid thirties maybe - perfect age, but not my type) who was chatting to some of my aquaintances. By the way he eyed me I knew he wanted to talk to me, too, but I stuck around with Pete most of the time, partly because I wanted to prevent that guy from talking to me. What do I fucking want from those people? I don't like talking to anyone at parties about myself. What will they remember? Besides, I don't drink and I don't smoke indoors. I don't even understand why people enjoy house parties. I don't think I'd have gone there, if Pete hadn't gone. He does enjoy socialising, but he doesn't drink, either. Basically we both were the only ones who didn't get into the same kind of mood as everyone. If you want to force me to drink, you can fuck right off. Fucking hell I wish I my body was able to bear the effect of alcohol. And I wish I loved the taste of alcohol, but I don't, I don't! If that bothers you, just tell me to go. As simple as. I don't want to know how many people blamed the alcohol for certain things that happened that night. If you ever blame the alcohol for something like cheating or throwing up, you are a fucking wanker. How pathetic. Damn you...!
I am very picky with the people I choose generally. I like my friends and people neutral with strong personalities. People who don't keep secrets from me, don't mess with me and don't lie to me. Honesty and openness...all that shit, you know. Nothing more that I need. I don't put much value on reliability in friendship anymore, because I am not someone to count on, either. However, it doesn't mean that I don't try. The idea of friendship has become a big issue lately. I think there are times where I shouldn't take it too seriously and simply sit back and wait. It's not always my business what others are up to. But it becomes my business when I find out that my trust and belief in that person have been abused. And still you have to keep your mouth shut sometimes. The only reason why I'm keeping mine shut right now is because I can't be fucking bothered.
To conclude: Do what the fuck you want. I refuse to run after anyone. I won't run after anyone anymore. I've shown enough times that I care. And at the end of the day I'm always the one who gets the short end of the fucking stick. Deal with your problems on your own.
I find it important that people know what they want. Nevertheless there is something even more important: It's not what you want that always counts, what counts more is actually what is GOOD for you. If you know what is GOOD for you, so much the better. I'm not in the mood for people who are blind on the inside.
I judge what I see, observe and experience. I judge when I myself feel affected. If I let you tell me your opinion, you fucking listen to mine!
People are making me tired.
Freitag, 11. September 2009
What would happen if
It is so obvious what's happening with me right now isn't it? And I'm still denying myself, my feelings and such...I seem to encounter self-denial in my life very often lately. At least I know what is good for me. But then the urge of wanting to give myself a second chance is too strong. I'm becoming impatient. I'm becoming uncontrollably curious. The question:
'What would happen if...'
However I'm not interested in taking risks right now. Not now. Or am I?
'What would happen if...'
However I'm not interested in taking risks right now. Not now. Or am I?
If you want to dig down deep
The biggest lie you ever told [You're not the best mother ever]
Your deepest fear about growing old [Dying]
The longest night you ever spent [In England. Over 24hrs of sleeplessness]
The angriest letter you never sent [To my Catholic host mother]
The boy you swore you'd never leave [I only said I'd be waiting, to hell with that]
The one you kissed on new year's eve [No one, just txt someone I thought was special]
The sweetest dream you had last night [A penguin]
Your darkest hour [When I was close to a nervous breakdown]
Your hardest fight [My heart, my head, my life]
I wanna know you - like I know myself
I'm waiting for you - there ain't no one else
Talk to me baby - scream and shout
I want to know you - inside out
I wanna dig down deep - I wanna lose some sleep
I wanna scream and shout - I wanna know you inside out
I wanna take my time - I wanna know your mind
Ya know there ain't no doubt - I wanna know you inside out
The saddest song you ever heard ['Hurt']
The most you said with just one word [Don't need so say a word, just look at me]
The loneliest prayer you ever prayed [When I was 13 I asked God to make me pretty]
The truest vow you ever made [My goals]
What makes you laugh [Penguins and paradox]
What makes you cry [Uncontrollable emotions]
What makes you mad [People]
What gets you by [Family]
You highest high [Writing, music]
Your lowest low [The past] - these things I want to know
I wanna know you - like I know myself
I'm waiting for you - there ain't no one else
Talk to me baby - scream and shout
I want to know you - inside out
I wanna dig down deep - I wanna lose some sleep
I wanna scream and shout - I wanna know you inside out
I wanna take my time - I wanna know your mind
Ya know there ain't no doubt - I wanna know you inside out
I wanna know your soul - I wanna lose control
Come on n let it out - I wanna know you inside out
Ya gotta dig down deep - I wanna lose some sleep
I wanna scream and shout - I wanna know you inside out
Tell me everything...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And that's the least you know. But at least I know you care by asking me these.
Your deepest fear about growing old [Dying]
The longest night you ever spent [In England. Over 24hrs of sleeplessness]
The angriest letter you never sent [To my Catholic host mother]
The boy you swore you'd never leave [I only said I'd be waiting, to hell with that]
The one you kissed on new year's eve [No one, just txt someone I thought was special]
The sweetest dream you had last night [A penguin]
Your darkest hour [When I was close to a nervous breakdown]
Your hardest fight [My heart, my head, my life]
I wanna know you - like I know myself
I'm waiting for you - there ain't no one else
Talk to me baby - scream and shout
I want to know you - inside out
I wanna dig down deep - I wanna lose some sleep
I wanna scream and shout - I wanna know you inside out
I wanna take my time - I wanna know your mind
Ya know there ain't no doubt - I wanna know you inside out
The saddest song you ever heard ['Hurt']
The most you said with just one word [Don't need so say a word, just look at me]
The loneliest prayer you ever prayed [When I was 13 I asked God to make me pretty]
The truest vow you ever made [My goals]
What makes you laugh [Penguins and paradox]
What makes you cry [Uncontrollable emotions]
What makes you mad [People]
What gets you by [Family]
You highest high [Writing, music]
Your lowest low [The past] - these things I want to know
I wanna know you - like I know myself
I'm waiting for you - there ain't no one else
Talk to me baby - scream and shout
I want to know you - inside out
I wanna dig down deep - I wanna lose some sleep
I wanna scream and shout - I wanna know you inside out
I wanna take my time - I wanna know your mind
Ya know there ain't no doubt - I wanna know you inside out
I wanna know your soul - I wanna lose control
Come on n let it out - I wanna know you inside out
Ya gotta dig down deep - I wanna lose some sleep
I wanna scream and shout - I wanna know you inside out
Tell me everything...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And that's the least you know. But at least I know you care by asking me these.
Samstag, 5. September 2009
All I wanted
Right this very moment it is 4:55am. I have a big head ache and I'm unable to sleep. Started hugging myself during Let's make a night to remember in bed and thought it might be a better idea to get out of bed again and start writing. Yes, otherwise I'd have gone a bit further. This dude is driving me out of my mind. I haven't changed that much when it comes to stupid infatuations. I've been this way since I was eleven. I had written many many love stories when I was a kid. Proabably over twenty. Each story was over 60 pages long. It depended on how mad my current crush was. The funny thing about it was that I considered those as novels. Cute, huh? They were mostly hand written and then typed. I wrote romantic shit, sentimental shit, sad shit. I considered that as my only way to escape reality. The characters I created were more of less my imaginary friends.
A few years later I realised how cheesy I was and tried to get more serious. I startd to read Nicholas Sparks and when I compared my love stories to his, I realised that mine weren't as good. Then my stories became shorter. Rather than calling them "novels" I simply called them "short stories", going up to 5000 words. However, stupid infatuations were needed, in order to write anything. To name a few infatuations, there were Rivers Cuomo, Steve Jones and Bryan Adams. The short stories were written between 1999 and 2000. The other week I rewrote the Bryan Adams one titled All I wanted. And no you won't ever get to read that. If you want to read my short stories, please visit www.terrible-lies.com and click on Fiction in the right column. You only may read stuff I wrote from 2004 onwards. If you'd like to read more, I'll be delighted to send you a few. Well, All I wanted was a story that I was proud of. Nonetheless, I'm happy to post a paragraph:
>> I had Jazz music running in the background, which created a nice, soothing atmosphere in my workshop (which was also my bedroom). I was taking pictures constantly without taking any breaks. She got used to it in the meantime and all of a sudden I recognized a sign of seduction in her eyes. Now she couldn’t take her eyes off the camera, as if she was after the man behind it. She was excellent and genuine; she didn't pretend to be sad or happy. Instead she seized this moment to be vain and alluring. And she was brilliant at it. << href="http://www.last.fm/music/Bryan+Adams/+videos/12008855" mce_href="http://www.last.fm/music/Bryan+Adams/+videos/12008855">Let's make a night to remember then you know what had inspired me to write that story. Dear me, that video was shot in 1996. I was 12. I wonder what I had felt exactly back then.
No more sex music tonight.
A few years later I realised how cheesy I was and tried to get more serious. I startd to read Nicholas Sparks and when I compared my love stories to his, I realised that mine weren't as good. Then my stories became shorter. Rather than calling them "novels" I simply called them "short stories", going up to 5000 words. However, stupid infatuations were needed, in order to write anything. To name a few infatuations, there were Rivers Cuomo, Steve Jones and Bryan Adams. The short stories were written between 1999 and 2000. The other week I rewrote the Bryan Adams one titled All I wanted. And no you won't ever get to read that. If you want to read my short stories, please visit www.terrible-lies.com and click on Fiction in the right column. You only may read stuff I wrote from 2004 onwards. If you'd like to read more, I'll be delighted to send you a few. Well, All I wanted was a story that I was proud of. Nonetheless, I'm happy to post a paragraph:
>> I had Jazz music running in the background, which created a nice, soothing atmosphere in my workshop (which was also my bedroom). I was taking pictures constantly without taking any breaks. She got used to it in the meantime and all of a sudden I recognized a sign of seduction in her eyes. Now she couldn’t take her eyes off the camera, as if she was after the man behind it. She was excellent and genuine; she didn't pretend to be sad or happy. Instead she seized this moment to be vain and alluring. And she was brilliant at it. << href="http://www.last.fm/music/Bryan+Adams/+videos/12008855" mce_href="http://www.last.fm/music/Bryan+Adams/+videos/12008855">Let's make a night to remember then you know what had inspired me to write that story. Dear me, that video was shot in 1996. I was 12. I wonder what I had felt exactly back then.
No more sex music tonight.
Mittwoch, 2. September 2009
September blues
It’s past 1am and therefore my time begins now. I have Darkest Hour on repeat because I felt that their melodic sounds would clear my ears. The entire day has been full of apathy, a bit of rage and self-denial. What was worse is I didn’t know what to do about it. I’m somewhat discouraged. It is nothing new to you that my ex still haunts me in my dreams; at least once a week. No I am not keen on mentioning him, but this is leading to something that I want to tell you about. I think you already have a slight idea about how I imagine Prince Charming? Yes, it is green eyes. I am a sucker for green eyes. In last night’s dream I was with Prince Charming (unfortunately he was nameless and blonde). The reason why I know he was Prince Charming was because there was this intense moment where we were looking into each other’s eyes and I saw my reflection in his with my entire trust. You have no idea how scared I get when it comes to looking into people’s eyes. Reason? I know they’re going to eat my soul. However I felt different about Prince Charming and that already says a lot. But it was only that little moment, which seemed precious. Anyway, don’t you already know that precious moments are ephemeral? Anything else that came after was like biting into a sandwich filled with maggots. Well, firstly the sex was bad, so bad and emotionless that I had to fake an orgasm. Secondly every time I wasn’t looking at him, he’d suddenly be cheating on me with someone else. He’d be having sex right there in front of my eyes. He would even dare to look at me while penetrating some other bitch, as if it didn’t matter. I haven’t been that enraged in my dreams for a long time. I started to build fists and then attempted to hit him in the face. But for some reason I had no power and it didn’t hurt him the slightest. The rage and hate were there, but not the power. I wish I had had something sharp, like a pair of scissors. And I wish Cronos had taken over my body. I’d have let him do the job, as I don’t have the guts. Still you are free to do anything in your dreams. No one but you can see them. Like you have no idea about the story I’m telling you.
So much to Prince Charming. So much to green eyes. For some strange reason I’m thinking about Bluebeard. He is someone who asks for nothing but trust and everyone abuses it. You must feel so disgusted about the fact that I empathize with a fictional serial killer. I can only shrug my shoulders. My actions are godless, unreasonable and stubborn, because I know no forgiveness. However, family and friends deserve second chances, but lovers zero.
I am looking forward to my second novel, which is going to be about a female doctor, a nymphomaniac suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder. She will be the embodiment of Cronos. Ellen Parker is her name and she will do what needs to be done. Please remember her name, as you will encounter this name again.
I think what totally numbed me the entire afternoon was the disappointment that there was no Prince Charming. But do you know what? So much the better. There’s no one to waste my time, as I’ve already wasted over 1000 days in my youth. I’d like to be free the next ten years. Anyway, I’d still like to have some fun every now and then please. I know it is an easy thing to say, I admit. But it’s true that my family comes first and then my goals. I just don’t think that people can count on me as a good friend that will stick around forever. I’ve become a very bad listener that I sometimes have to remind my heart that I should be empathizing. The weird thing is that I only empathize with people when I observe them. I don’t like hearing them talk anymore, unless they speak in metaphors: Words and descriptions which are strong and bombastic. It’s more interesting when you don’t understand them. What do you want sympathy for anyway? Why would you want people to understand you? This is why I quit visiting my psychiatrist who only referred my character to the culture of my own race. That is not the first step to enter my head Mister. He was just one of those bastards who wouldn’t even recognize me in a crowd full of Asian people. We all look the same, don’t we? Ignorant. At least my gynecologist recognizes me in the supermarket.
I am still scared of ghosts. I never actually wrote the real reason down in my journal. All you knew was that I sleep with the desk lamp on. I am scared of sleeping in the dark, because this is where I feel most vulnerable. I’ve grown to hate sleeping in general. So I only go to sleep when I feel tired.
“Every night I go to bed I get scared of ghosts. When lying in bed I’d always be facing the outside, so I can see if someone is standing right there in front of me.” – July 5th 09
That was the first sentence of my blog entry from over a month ago. On July 28th I had a very bizarre incident that made me question my sanity. So far I’ve only told close people about it. But well, I know many people have it even worse than I do. However, I woke up that night at about 5am. I had forced my eyes open as if I had wanted to escape from a nightmare or something. Strange thing is that I do not remember what I had dreamt. It was just a sudden awakening. And as soon as I had turned my head I saw a fat person wearing a red suit with tartan patterns standing next to my bed. I recognized no head and therefore can’t really tell whether it was a man or a woman, but I guess it was a man. I screamed and then watched this person slowly floating away. I jumped out of my bed to turn the light on. Everything had gone then. The moment I crawled back to bed, I felt a heavy tremble, as if the bed was moving. I screamed again and jumped up. That was when I realized that it had only been my body shaking and not my bed.
God, I don’t want to experience that again. Each night when going to bed, when switching on the desk lamp, I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t see tartan patterns anymore either.
I am scared of the night and yet I adore it so. 4:08am.
I want Prince Charming to give me my soul back. I want to stop living in self-denial and finally let go off this hate. But I can’t.
So much to Prince Charming. So much to green eyes. For some strange reason I’m thinking about Bluebeard. He is someone who asks for nothing but trust and everyone abuses it. You must feel so disgusted about the fact that I empathize with a fictional serial killer. I can only shrug my shoulders. My actions are godless, unreasonable and stubborn, because I know no forgiveness. However, family and friends deserve second chances, but lovers zero.
I am looking forward to my second novel, which is going to be about a female doctor, a nymphomaniac suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder. She will be the embodiment of Cronos. Ellen Parker is her name and she will do what needs to be done. Please remember her name, as you will encounter this name again.
I think what totally numbed me the entire afternoon was the disappointment that there was no Prince Charming. But do you know what? So much the better. There’s no one to waste my time, as I’ve already wasted over 1000 days in my youth. I’d like to be free the next ten years. Anyway, I’d still like to have some fun every now and then please. I know it is an easy thing to say, I admit. But it’s true that my family comes first and then my goals. I just don’t think that people can count on me as a good friend that will stick around forever. I’ve become a very bad listener that I sometimes have to remind my heart that I should be empathizing. The weird thing is that I only empathize with people when I observe them. I don’t like hearing them talk anymore, unless they speak in metaphors: Words and descriptions which are strong and bombastic. It’s more interesting when you don’t understand them. What do you want sympathy for anyway? Why would you want people to understand you? This is why I quit visiting my psychiatrist who only referred my character to the culture of my own race. That is not the first step to enter my head Mister. He was just one of those bastards who wouldn’t even recognize me in a crowd full of Asian people. We all look the same, don’t we? Ignorant. At least my gynecologist recognizes me in the supermarket.
I am still scared of ghosts. I never actually wrote the real reason down in my journal. All you knew was that I sleep with the desk lamp on. I am scared of sleeping in the dark, because this is where I feel most vulnerable. I’ve grown to hate sleeping in general. So I only go to sleep when I feel tired.
“Every night I go to bed I get scared of ghosts. When lying in bed I’d always be facing the outside, so I can see if someone is standing right there in front of me.” – July 5th 09
That was the first sentence of my blog entry from over a month ago. On July 28th I had a very bizarre incident that made me question my sanity. So far I’ve only told close people about it. But well, I know many people have it even worse than I do. However, I woke up that night at about 5am. I had forced my eyes open as if I had wanted to escape from a nightmare or something. Strange thing is that I do not remember what I had dreamt. It was just a sudden awakening. And as soon as I had turned my head I saw a fat person wearing a red suit with tartan patterns standing next to my bed. I recognized no head and therefore can’t really tell whether it was a man or a woman, but I guess it was a man. I screamed and then watched this person slowly floating away. I jumped out of my bed to turn the light on. Everything had gone then. The moment I crawled back to bed, I felt a heavy tremble, as if the bed was moving. I screamed again and jumped up. That was when I realized that it had only been my body shaking and not my bed.
God, I don’t want to experience that again. Each night when going to bed, when switching on the desk lamp, I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t see tartan patterns anymore either.
I am scared of the night and yet I adore it so. 4:08am.
I want Prince Charming to give me my soul back. I want to stop living in self-denial and finally let go off this hate. But I can’t.
Tattoos (please note, pictures are only posted on myspace)
Alright you guys have been asking me to post pictures and I promised to show you some. And I will only do this in my blog. I won't post my tattoos in my photo albums. I don't know, I find it too personal. At least not many people read my blog, so there you go.
1. Tattoo on right arm - The Question Mark
My first tattoo. A socalled semi-permanent tattoo, which apparently doesn't exist. I'm the living proof, too, because I was told that it would disappear after 5 years. I had it done when I was 18/19. The meaning is simple, but philosophical. I have too many questions in my life to which I have no answers. I used to admire John Rzeznik's tattoos. He has loads of question marks tattooed on his arm and a man sits in the middle of it.
2. Tattoo down the back on the right - The Fish/Shark
The only tattoo that doesn't really have a meaning. I like fish, they are quiet and don't complain. I sort of associated it with the band Feeder, because Grant Nicholas used to have a goldfish named Feeder.
3. Tattoo on the left shoulder - The Moon
It is about Shakespeare. Whenever he mentions the moon in his plays, people don't seem to be quite sane and they start to do something crazy. Take Othello as an example. The moon symbolises madness. I used to associate it with my ex, as I used to call him names that contained the word "moon". Well, I had it redone this year, so it's all brand new now.
4. Tattoo on the neck - Zodia Sign
No, goddammit, it's not Pisces, it's not Gemini. I'm Cancer. If you have no idea what all the zodiac signs look like, then google them. Well, I wanted the circle bits to look different, so it wouldn't look so boring. I told the tattoo artist that I wanted them to portray alien heads. And he did a damn good job. It's my best tattoo so far without having had any trouble. The fine lines prove it all. Every time people look at it, I know what they think and I want them to be honest. Come on: sperm, tadpoles, skulls, etc.
5. Tattoo on the right shoulder - Saturn
Saturn has a long story: It is my favourite planet, even though people say it is the planet of death and destruction. Saturn is the planet of my favourite God from Greek Mythology. His name is Cronos, the God of Harvest and the origin of the Grim Reaper. You know this cloaked guy carrying a sickle? He is based on Cronos because Cronos castrated his father with a sickle and let him bleed to death. The idea of the Grim Reaper simply fascinates me. Lastly Saturday derives from Saturn. The sixth day equals the sixth planet. I was born on a Saturday.
It's getting redone soon.
6. Tattoo on my left wrist - Rorschach's signature
I would never get anything tattooed that's based on a real life person, but fictional characters are an exception. Watchmen is my favourite comic book and Rorschach my favourite comic book character. Despite of the right-wing attitude, he fights for justice. He knows who he is and what his job is. I admire his black and white thinking. I wish I was like that sometimes. Everything would then be so much easier. But what I admire most is his honesty, because he's a moral absolutist. "Never compromise, not even in the face of armageddon..." He makes me question my honesty or what I call honesty. Maybe I'm not as honest as you think I am.
1. Tattoo on right arm - The Question Mark
My first tattoo. A socalled semi-permanent tattoo, which apparently doesn't exist. I'm the living proof, too, because I was told that it would disappear after 5 years. I had it done when I was 18/19. The meaning is simple, but philosophical. I have too many questions in my life to which I have no answers. I used to admire John Rzeznik's tattoos. He has loads of question marks tattooed on his arm and a man sits in the middle of it.
2. Tattoo down the back on the right - The Fish/Shark
The only tattoo that doesn't really have a meaning. I like fish, they are quiet and don't complain. I sort of associated it with the band Feeder, because Grant Nicholas used to have a goldfish named Feeder.
3. Tattoo on the left shoulder - The Moon
It is about Shakespeare. Whenever he mentions the moon in his plays, people don't seem to be quite sane and they start to do something crazy. Take Othello as an example. The moon symbolises madness. I used to associate it with my ex, as I used to call him names that contained the word "moon". Well, I had it redone this year, so it's all brand new now.
4. Tattoo on the neck - Zodia Sign
No, goddammit, it's not Pisces, it's not Gemini. I'm Cancer. If you have no idea what all the zodiac signs look like, then google them. Well, I wanted the circle bits to look different, so it wouldn't look so boring. I told the tattoo artist that I wanted them to portray alien heads. And he did a damn good job. It's my best tattoo so far without having had any trouble. The fine lines prove it all. Every time people look at it, I know what they think and I want them to be honest. Come on: sperm, tadpoles, skulls, etc.
5. Tattoo on the right shoulder - Saturn
Saturn has a long story: It is my favourite planet, even though people say it is the planet of death and destruction. Saturn is the planet of my favourite God from Greek Mythology. His name is Cronos, the God of Harvest and the origin of the Grim Reaper. You know this cloaked guy carrying a sickle? He is based on Cronos because Cronos castrated his father with a sickle and let him bleed to death. The idea of the Grim Reaper simply fascinates me. Lastly Saturday derives from Saturn. The sixth day equals the sixth planet. I was born on a Saturday.
It's getting redone soon.
6. Tattoo on my left wrist - Rorschach's signature
I would never get anything tattooed that's based on a real life person, but fictional characters are an exception. Watchmen is my favourite comic book and Rorschach my favourite comic book character. Despite of the right-wing attitude, he fights for justice. He knows who he is and what his job is. I admire his black and white thinking. I wish I was like that sometimes. Everything would then be so much easier. But what I admire most is his honesty, because he's a moral absolutist. "Never compromise, not even in the face of armageddon..." He makes me question my honesty or what I call honesty. Maybe I'm not as honest as you think I am.
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