außerweltlichkeit

...und nun sitze ich also hier, nach einem weiteren tag, an meinem schreibtisch, rauchend, und tippe diesen text, ohne überhaupt zu wissen, was ich schreiben soll oder will. ich habe nun fast für ein ganzes jahr meine tätigkeit an diesem blog unterbrochen. vielleicht weil ich nichts zu sagen hatte? nein. vielleicht einfach, weil zu vieles geschehen ist, und ich zu sehr damit beschäftigt war, mich selbst neu zu definieren. ich möchte auf die einzelheiten gar nicht weiter eingehen, ich möchte, dass dieser blog (weiterhin) wie ein gedicht außerhalb von raum und zeit existiert, nur meine gedankenwelt erfasst.
ob ich es schaffen werde, das schreiben konsequent fortzusetzen? ich weiß es nicht, kann es nicht versprechen. was ich sagen kann, ist, dass ich es irgendwie mag, mich abends an meinen pc zu setzen und zu beobachten, wie vor meinen augen langsam ein text entsteht. diese momente der stille und (selbst)reflexion sind sehr wertvoll. und ja - vielleicht bereite ich sogar dem einen oder anderen eine kleine freude damit, schaffe auch für andere einen moment der ruhe und der außerweltlichkeit.

she - thirsty as hell

loneliness is the sensation of not feeling loved. enough.
besides the fear to never find home, her biggest fear and biggest insecurity is to not be loved. to be taken more or less randomly for someone to feel less lonely, because her greatest talent is to be able to love and to be very patient. for the rest, she's just a strange 18-year old human being getting stranger every day.
so, she continues giving, spreading love... of course, love is selfless and it is given just to be given, love is what it is. but she doesn't deny that she always, always hopes to get some back but it's always too little for a person like her, thirsty as hell.
she tends to give more and get less and this is destroying her.
lonely as devil down there, not even seen.
where is she?

se il sole muore

se il sole muore
e la luna piange
cosa rimane
in un mondo senza luce?

a pretty new one about... yes, about what?

When I close my eyes

I can see infinity

when I open them

I lose myself in yours.

The more I try to see

the less I understand

the presence of the past

the essence of the future.

Where am I now

I found myself in the eye of the storm

where there is total calm

I get confused by everything quirling around me.

I'd rather want to be in the middle

feeling everything, not only observing

I'd rather be with those quirly things

accepting that I can't hold anything.

Illusion or reality?

what exists and whats doesn't

doesn't matter at the end

reality is what you think.

Dreams as hope and love

are nothing for the weak

the world belongs to those who cry

and do not fear infinity.

an old one about waiting and about hope

only the moment matters 

like a good song
where the tension
slowly grows and you wait
for the beat to drop
to let go off everything
and feel pure happiness
    
so is life
it goes up and down
good things come slowly
it takes time of calm
to freak out        
and then      

only the moment matters

an old one about not feeling anything anymore

something in me died
autumn's coming
snow is beginning to fall
up there high in the mountains
snow is beginning to fall
even down there deep inside me
hiding what was alive once
but isn't any longer
and still didn't rise like jesus did
this lack of energy  
that turns into deep sadness
nobody here
feeling me
and i am lost       
it is frosty        
at least ice keeps it safe
will it survive
till sun comes up?