6.01.2009
It might just have been a dream
Summer was hesitating, and the rain poured down outside my window, and it threw me into a sad, sad mode, made me want to hurt myself, and by hurting myself I would usually turn to the bottle. I was just too lazy to do any other damage to my body, I think my laziness have saved me at tines. If I wasn’t as lazy as I am I probably be a heavy drug user and be covered of tattoos and scars by now. But me being lazy just made the whole thing to get to a needle place so far fetched and scoring drugs always seemed like such a task, when I could just lay in the rain and drink one, two, three, four, five beers and just watch the world melt away outside my window.
Occasionally I would draw on myself, I have someone draw on me, and then I would sometimes submit myself to really bad sex, but that was about it. Bad sex and fake tattoos. Sometimes friends would feed me drugs, and during one hot summer I actually took it upon myself to hang out with a speed dealer. Well, I admit he was in love with my little Asian gay boy, and Asian gay boy would giggle and say he loved me, so I never felt bad about sitting in a park snorting free lines and once in a while rummage my pocket for some spare change to give to the strung out guys.
My German really improved that summer, and so did my desire to get away from myself, to stop riding the U-bahn in rain thru the outskirts of a former war torn city. The structures around me where new in one sense but ancient in another, there were the impressive parade streets with a whiff of Communist glory glaring at me, and there was the few houses that outlived the RAF furious bombs, It fascinated me, I went to all the well known clubs and danced myself away, I drank too much, I smoked too much, and to drink more I popped tiny pills that made my feet move faster. I fell into a world that lived hastily during the nights and in slow motion during the days. I hid my eyes behind sunglasses, I learned the lesson, if you go out in the night, and you still need the sunglasses for the morning.
"Essentials!" my roommate Kaka would tell me and fill my glass up with more cheap fake Champagne. When we couldn't afford that, we would just drink wine with sparkling water that was almost the best. We would first order "Sect auf Eis" just to switch over to "Wineschorle" as the night progressed. Kaka was ten years my seniors and grew up in East Germany, she had glorious stories about her first blue jeans and climbing the Berlin wall when it fall! I think Kaka might have worked as a real estate agent, but I was not really sure, she was gone during weekdays, and in the weekends she would dance the nights always with me, she seemed to know half of the city and she would drag younger men to the apartment and take baths with them in the bathtub. I would long for something, but most of the time I would spend with gay boys, because they had the drugs, they had the connections and they always knew where the party where. I think I might have impressed people, I don’t know if it was my long legs, my bleached hair or my constant smile. But I never got turned away and I had a thousand numbers in my phone, numbers I did not remember how they gotten there, numbers I never called.
I met a male model who I had mutual friends with, I think he was getting drugs from a friend, I met an amazing girl and tried to talk her into skinny dipping in the polluted river. I might have forgotten what the sun looked like, if it wasn’t that I had to make it to lectures once in a while. I bought a striped dress that hung sexy of my body, and I felt like Blondie when I danced another night away and Kaka dragged home a new guy, swearing that he was the one, and I kept on sleeping on the couch in the living room.
One day it all came to an end, that was probably for the best... for all of us!
Occasionally I would draw on myself, I have someone draw on me, and then I would sometimes submit myself to really bad sex, but that was about it. Bad sex and fake tattoos. Sometimes friends would feed me drugs, and during one hot summer I actually took it upon myself to hang out with a speed dealer. Well, I admit he was in love with my little Asian gay boy, and Asian gay boy would giggle and say he loved me, so I never felt bad about sitting in a park snorting free lines and once in a while rummage my pocket for some spare change to give to the strung out guys.
My German really improved that summer, and so did my desire to get away from myself, to stop riding the U-bahn in rain thru the outskirts of a former war torn city. The structures around me where new in one sense but ancient in another, there were the impressive parade streets with a whiff of Communist glory glaring at me, and there was the few houses that outlived the RAF furious bombs, It fascinated me, I went to all the well known clubs and danced myself away, I drank too much, I smoked too much, and to drink more I popped tiny pills that made my feet move faster. I fell into a world that lived hastily during the nights and in slow motion during the days. I hid my eyes behind sunglasses, I learned the lesson, if you go out in the night, and you still need the sunglasses for the morning.
"Essentials!" my roommate Kaka would tell me and fill my glass up with more cheap fake Champagne. When we couldn't afford that, we would just drink wine with sparkling water that was almost the best. We would first order "Sect auf Eis" just to switch over to "Wineschorle" as the night progressed. Kaka was ten years my seniors and grew up in East Germany, she had glorious stories about her first blue jeans and climbing the Berlin wall when it fall! I think Kaka might have worked as a real estate agent, but I was not really sure, she was gone during weekdays, and in the weekends she would dance the nights always with me, she seemed to know half of the city and she would drag younger men to the apartment and take baths with them in the bathtub. I would long for something, but most of the time I would spend with gay boys, because they had the drugs, they had the connections and they always knew where the party where. I think I might have impressed people, I don’t know if it was my long legs, my bleached hair or my constant smile. But I never got turned away and I had a thousand numbers in my phone, numbers I did not remember how they gotten there, numbers I never called.
I met a male model who I had mutual friends with, I think he was getting drugs from a friend, I met an amazing girl and tried to talk her into skinny dipping in the polluted river. I might have forgotten what the sun looked like, if it wasn’t that I had to make it to lectures once in a while. I bought a striped dress that hung sexy of my body, and I felt like Blondie when I danced another night away and Kaka dragged home a new guy, swearing that he was the one, and I kept on sleeping on the couch in the living room.
One day it all came to an end, that was probably for the best... for all of us!
not so easy, but so hard
I met you and I fell so deep, and you fell with me and we had nowhere to hide from the raw feelings that were there. I saw you in me and maybe you saw yourself in me, I am not sure. I was so scared I cried, you were so scared you left me.
So now I sit, and try to mend myself and then I think it is to much and I cheer myself on with a gin and tonic and thoughts that I do not need you. Knoingly lying to myself, just because I can, yes I am good at it... watch me laugh out laoud, it sounds so real, but it is fake all the way... for now..
It was fast and furious, it was as if it was meant to burn out, as if we both asked for it, as if we could never handle that mirror of ourselves that I reflected upon you and that you reflected upon me. I never felt so safe as in your arms and I have never felt so left as I do alone. You made me mad, you made me all sorts of thing, but in the end you really made me happy and then you did what I feared the most, you left me...
I stood alone, and lone I stood, and I cried until tears dried up and I lied to myself.
I said it was OK, I said we could be friends, because my love was endlessly deep and I knew it was to burn and burst, that you would never change your mind, that I was what you was scared off.
I gave you my hand, my mind, and I could not hurt you, I did not want to hurt you ever, I wanted to take the stars down from the sky, be cheesy beyond, I wanted to heal that hole inside you, the hole we both have, maybe we just are born to try to fill that whole black hole.
Ages ago a friend coming off drugs told me, that people like us have a hole, and we will struggle our entire life to fill it, we will fill it in different ways. I try to keep off the drugs and the devious shots, because they fill the hole but never heal, and they never last.
I cried today, yesterday, and the day before that... and still I smile, because I know that it does not last forever and I know we are the ones that hurt ourselves more than anyone else.
So now I sit, and try to mend myself and then I think it is to much and I cheer myself on with a gin and tonic and thoughts that I do not need you. Knoingly lying to myself, just because I can, yes I am good at it... watch me laugh out laoud, it sounds so real, but it is fake all the way... for now..
It was fast and furious, it was as if it was meant to burn out, as if we both asked for it, as if we could never handle that mirror of ourselves that I reflected upon you and that you reflected upon me. I never felt so safe as in your arms and I have never felt so left as I do alone. You made me mad, you made me all sorts of thing, but in the end you really made me happy and then you did what I feared the most, you left me...
I stood alone, and lone I stood, and I cried until tears dried up and I lied to myself.
I said it was OK, I said we could be friends, because my love was endlessly deep and I knew it was to burn and burst, that you would never change your mind, that I was what you was scared off.
I gave you my hand, my mind, and I could not hurt you, I did not want to hurt you ever, I wanted to take the stars down from the sky, be cheesy beyond, I wanted to heal that hole inside you, the hole we both have, maybe we just are born to try to fill that whole black hole.
Ages ago a friend coming off drugs told me, that people like us have a hole, and we will struggle our entire life to fill it, we will fill it in different ways. I try to keep off the drugs and the devious shots, because they fill the hole but never heal, and they never last.
I cried today, yesterday, and the day before that... and still I smile, because I know that it does not last forever and I know we are the ones that hurt ourselves more than anyone else.
4.14.2009
I remember that one summer
I refused to wear anything that wasn't black or white, we went away for festival, and the rain poured down on us, and the headliner never came, and it rained even more. I made out with a girl, soon to be married, and we climbed around in trees, I learned to pee standing up and we bounced off tents. Someone had sex in a ski-box on top of the car, and the car was rocking, and I hugged, hugged, hugged everyone. My hair was long, and I didn't own a brush, and I didn't care, everyone else slept on the dry floors, and I didn't, and we worked, checked ppls wristbands, and there was water everywhere, still a skateboard contest, a motorcross and some wrestling... there was masks and I drank beer with a guy with a mask twice my size. And there were VIP tents that we were or were not allowed in, it didn't matter, because it was summer, grey, sunny and cold. Everyone froze and I ran, ran, ran and bounced...
I fell asleep in one tent and woke up in a different, and there was beer everywhere... It made me laugh and everything was black and white, I was black and white and colors made me nervous. I laughed at simple facts and found myself in a car eating popcorns and having dreams.
This was the summer before I left Sweden, and that festival, and my friends, and the rain, and the skateboards, and the laughes and the love people fell into will forever be a part of my life. And anywhere we went, they played this son, and it sucked... and we just couldn't get aways from it, and when I heard it, I once again thought of that summer five years ago...
I fell asleep in one tent and woke up in a different, and there was beer everywhere... It made me laugh and everything was black and white, I was black and white and colors made me nervous. I laughed at simple facts and found myself in a car eating popcorns and having dreams.
This was the summer before I left Sweden, and that festival, and my friends, and the rain, and the skateboards, and the laughes and the love people fell into will forever be a part of my life. And anywhere we went, they played this son, and it sucked... and we just couldn't get aways from it, and when I heard it, I once again thought of that summer five years ago...
4.13.2009
Be aware I babble...
I saw you for the first time a long, long time ago, and then again, and again, and always in my dream you danced on broken glass, and no unicorn would come to your rescue. You laughed at me, in a mean and a good way… Reality usually grips me slowly, just to throw me back into a loop of time, that I lost in a very loving way, and I laughed at myself a thousand times.
We have seen an obscure German student city, where we competed of who could hit the hardest on our German teacher… We got her stinky Cheese from Paris, chocolates from Sweden and the best of it all stories in broken German about how retarded we spent our days drinking a striking amount of bad Rehn wine and Weiss bier… the more we talked the less she would teach and in the end I think she was really confused when we didn’t talk. And then we started over again and there is something to be said about that.
We have seen Barcelona, the beach of Spain, I had you fall asleep on the beach there after Sangria, next to me, I had to laugh, you were red as a freaking lobster, and needed Aloe Vera. We met friends of my dad, and they got us drunker, as if they or us shouldn’t know better. We missed our dinner reservation, and some waiter was probably cussing in Spanish about dumb Americans (and you are not and I am not).
We have seen Berlin, we never chased trannies, that was just a dream we might have had in our romantic past, and it made us laugh and there are a whole lot of them. They offered me speed at the bar under the subway station and laughed when I danced the night away. We sat on a train to the airport and the German little Chef lost his shoe and the little gayboy laughed out of love. We ran into the dance floor of an outdoor bar and took photos in machine then I sat on the swing over the river that parts Berlin.
We have seen Paris, multiple times, we lost a friend in Notre Dame, we visited the gay bars that Lonely Planet recommended, and we recommended Lonely Planet to make better research. We never made it up the Eiffel tower but we did found a Ferris Wheel, carried a baguette under your arm and drank red wine, lots of it, until we got thrown out of a cab in the middle of nowhere because the driver didn’t like us kissing and then you took a shower with your clothes still on.
You live in NYC, and I don’t and when I go there you always laugh at me, I wake up with my pockets full of one-dollar bills, I make out with girls and you make more fun of me, you take me to places where I drink tequila, because we always forget it’s not what we do, but they don’t have Fernet. I always say we should stick to wine and my glasses get lost in yellow cabs and life just spin a little faster. You tell girls you are from oil-money and I make out in phone booths. And I swear forever that this is all your fault! Don’t let me drink Tequila!
I grew up in Stockholm, you didn’t, you made out with my best friend and I made soup and glared at you, took you shopping for new jeans and glared some more. It was cold and my jacket was way to big for you and you made me listen to music and you still do. Remember how it’s gay when you only have one set of headphones and we both listen out of them, arms and legs touching.
I tend to forget that one time, you made me cry so hard that I might have lightly stalked you, because you were my best friend and you ran away, my heart broke a tiny bit. But that was before, a long time before.
I still dream you might be dancing on broken glass, and so do I from time to time and that doesn’t matter because we fill our time with better times and even if it ones was what we did not want to do, it still gives me great pleasure to be your friend. I really don’t know what I would do without you. Who to call when I crazily fallen for a girl or who to call when I’m drunk and counting cars?
We have seen an obscure German student city, where we competed of who could hit the hardest on our German teacher… We got her stinky Cheese from Paris, chocolates from Sweden and the best of it all stories in broken German about how retarded we spent our days drinking a striking amount of bad Rehn wine and Weiss bier… the more we talked the less she would teach and in the end I think she was really confused when we didn’t talk. And then we started over again and there is something to be said about that.
We have seen Barcelona, the beach of Spain, I had you fall asleep on the beach there after Sangria, next to me, I had to laugh, you were red as a freaking lobster, and needed Aloe Vera. We met friends of my dad, and they got us drunker, as if they or us shouldn’t know better. We missed our dinner reservation, and some waiter was probably cussing in Spanish about dumb Americans (and you are not and I am not).
We have seen Berlin, we never chased trannies, that was just a dream we might have had in our romantic past, and it made us laugh and there are a whole lot of them. They offered me speed at the bar under the subway station and laughed when I danced the night away. We sat on a train to the airport and the German little Chef lost his shoe and the little gayboy laughed out of love. We ran into the dance floor of an outdoor bar and took photos in machine then I sat on the swing over the river that parts Berlin.
We have seen Paris, multiple times, we lost a friend in Notre Dame, we visited the gay bars that Lonely Planet recommended, and we recommended Lonely Planet to make better research. We never made it up the Eiffel tower but we did found a Ferris Wheel, carried a baguette under your arm and drank red wine, lots of it, until we got thrown out of a cab in the middle of nowhere because the driver didn’t like us kissing and then you took a shower with your clothes still on.
You live in NYC, and I don’t and when I go there you always laugh at me, I wake up with my pockets full of one-dollar bills, I make out with girls and you make more fun of me, you take me to places where I drink tequila, because we always forget it’s not what we do, but they don’t have Fernet. I always say we should stick to wine and my glasses get lost in yellow cabs and life just spin a little faster. You tell girls you are from oil-money and I make out in phone booths. And I swear forever that this is all your fault! Don’t let me drink Tequila!
I grew up in Stockholm, you didn’t, you made out with my best friend and I made soup and glared at you, took you shopping for new jeans and glared some more. It was cold and my jacket was way to big for you and you made me listen to music and you still do. Remember how it’s gay when you only have one set of headphones and we both listen out of them, arms and legs touching.
I tend to forget that one time, you made me cry so hard that I might have lightly stalked you, because you were my best friend and you ran away, my heart broke a tiny bit. But that was before, a long time before.
I still dream you might be dancing on broken glass, and so do I from time to time and that doesn’t matter because we fill our time with better times and even if it ones was what we did not want to do, it still gives me great pleasure to be your friend. I really don’t know what I would do without you. Who to call when I crazily fallen for a girl or who to call when I’m drunk and counting cars?
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