Anger and Adoration

2009-07-26T03:15:00.001-07:00

If a hamster runs in its wheel it´s clear for everyone that it never will go straight on and that this work for itself is completely useless. Naturally the animal can talk into believing that it does something for its health, moving is important, specially if one sits everyday in a small cage and it has to do something to have a right for its existance and a good conscience to eat its daily fodder.

Well, in another way we are all hamsters in a wheel but only a few notice. Working is mostly exactly the same as senslessly running in a wheel and not coming forward. Working as end in itself, to have something to do, to be busy, to feel as a useful member of community and to have good conscious to eat our daily bread.

But what if evolution meantimes went into a completely other direction? What if it is meaningless if you work or not, because work need not be done from others? In former times on a farm f.e., the work had to be done from the others, if a member of the family was ill or couldn´t work because of other reasons, and naturally it was unsocial to shirk of work or to make off. But, in a community with less work than workers and the potential to rationalize even more work because maschines are much better, work as a "value" lost its sense.

But what if evolution meantimes went into a completely other direction? What if it is nearly criminal to work in special departments because it is harmful for others or ruin our basis of life? If someone today works in a nuclear power station, in the car-industry or weapon-branch, isn´t it necessary to ask himself honestly about the effects? Can he eat his daily bread with good conscious and feel as a useful member of community? Doesn´t he feel queer if he is an employé of a relief organisation f.e. and earn his money with the misery of others and therefore in a way depends on this misery?

Thinking one step forward and misery lasts because it saves many jobs and war lasts because too many make money with it, nature dies because economy has to step up. Our values work, acceptance, economic growth, prosperity, money, community are not very helpful to save our planet on the contrary it´s time to scrutinize them critically and look for others which are more qualified for future. The necessary basis is asking the question of meaning.

Similar to the change of paradigm from the Old to the New Testament it must be a fundamental change in our thinking: The old "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" in a former economical context means "you give me that and I give you that". But today the structures are more like a net, so that our acting isn´t only just for one partner any more but have effects on many other areas. Analogical to Jesus who turns the other cheek and bursts old structures with it and at the same time provokes the opposite and encourages to start thinking and changing view, we also should try to develop new rooms for manoeuvre.

If there isn´t a direct exchange any more, the value turns round, work won´t be measured on how much it earns, i.e. in Euro and Cent, but will be seen in the great context, i.e. in its sense and consequences. Therefore the work of a big industrialist whose production is ecologically harmfull is less valuable than that of an unemployed person who organises honorary an open meeting place for young persons: A new way, a new chance for all of us.

2009-05-27T02:05:00.001-07:00

- I´m not sure if you´ll stay and work here more than perhaps a half year.
- You´re more than honest and I can accept your doubts. I myself have nearly the same doubts, but not because of the collegues I´ve to work with, I like the atmosphere here.

She won´t stay, she won´t, it´s like a stupid singsang in my head, I force myself to stop it. I´ve just started here with my work, just arrived from a little town more than 500 km away. Changing my surrounding completely I can´t forget that in my inner I always want to be at home somewhere. Perhaps that´s why my first impression of her signaled me immediatly her difference. Looking in her eyes I feel immense distances and there´s the curiosity of "the other", there´s no explanation I could give for my interest, but an inner voice says I have to hurry, do I know how long we´ll work together?

- Well, I´m not sure if I´ll be able to go to this meeting in April next year, my contract ends in several months and at the moment I don´t see a possibility how to work on here longer.
- No discussion, we need you and we´ll find a solution, there´ll be a prolongation of your contract pretty soon I swear.

Why is he so different now, why has he changed so completely? At the beginning I was surprised by his directness, I felt in some way seen through, but it was easier. Now he always comes several times to me but just for talking, that´s my impression, because his official questions are answered in 2 minutes and he stays much longer, what for?

- Oh hello and good morning, back from holidays? How was it?
- Fine, thank you, by the way there´s a question concerning...
- Alright, just come in later during the day, I´ve a term now and have to hurry, sorry.

How can I hold her, how stopping her fast steps, her inner hurry? I don´t know why I go to her room so often, why I talk to her much longer than necessary, it´s not love I swear, I´m married and have 2 little children, I´m not in a single-situation looking for an affair. I don´t want her to leave and I never was more sure that she will, perhaps must. In this months of our working together she reached a state of familiarity she means in a very special way security and being at home for me. But what if she leaves?

- I have to go, there´s a very unlucky affair with my chief I was forced to give away my professional ethics and that´s impossible for me.
- I knew you would leave us sooner or later, but I honestly hoped to give you some sort of a rest here.
- Thanks, I liked working with you all, but restlessness is in my blood I fear.
- In your eyes, to be correct.

2009-05-22T00:56:00.001-07:00

Germany, Hamburg, Bus
- can´t you imagine, I love you!
- I understand, but I don´t
- but why?
- well, feelings can´t be enforced
- is it becaus I´m black?
- no, no, that´s not the point
- well, god has decided that you must become my wife
- but I have no feelings for you
- I love you!

France, Marseille, Underground
- I love you, you´re the woman I want to marry
- I don´t love you
- it is because I´m black
- no, I´ve a lot of black friends
- so why not?
- I can´t
- you´ve a problem with black men?
- no, no, but...

Spain, Barcelona, Parc Guell
- is it becaus I´m black?
- nonsens
- so marry me
- how can I without loving you
- I love you that´s enough
- do you really think so?
- yes, god´s my witness

Germany, Hamburg, little room
It wasn´t possible to communicate with him, he talked nonstop, without hearing my words. I argued against a wall, he was fixed at the point that I didn´t like him because he was black. I hadn´t seen him before, it was the first time we met and he talked of "love", offered me his heart without even knowing me. But now I´m save at home and can read and forget.

France, Marseille, café
It was humiliating to be seen only as a woman. He behaved like an animal during the rut. He gave me a feeling of guilt accusing me I wouldn´t love him because he was black, it was unfair because there are so many factors which must come together before you´ll fall in love and he reduced all to the most unimportant point of his skin-colour. How happy I am that I´ve a friend I can talk to about all this.

Spain, Barcelona, disco
Marriage, partnership, love, how unrealistic in our times, never can I imagine to marry. But how can you explain this to someone who never listen and is filled with the prejudice that you don´t love him because he´s black? He just started the conversation with this gigantic and false thought in his head. Impulsive as he is I guess he will be disappointed again and again and his explanation always will be because he´s black, how easy. I must dance the whole night to calm down a bit.

Let´s try to find a way out of the dilemma. Let´s try to find an answer to the question, which shocks and accuses without reason: After several useless tries of argumentation you´ll just shout: I hate men! Or you can threaten and answer: My friend will kill you! The most successful and resigning way is to lie and agree: Yes!

2009-05-17T02:36:00.001-07:00

She met him in a little café. She sat at a table, drinking tea, reading. It was the first time she came here, new in town she was looking for a café which could become her favourite. He went in with his friends, there was no free table any more so they decided to ask her for the free places. Not long and they were talking together and found each other sympathic. Several hours later they went in a pub and went on with beer. It was a lovely evening and he gave her his telephone number. She knew that he had a girlfriend and because his companion was gay and had asked herself she had outed herself easily, so the frontiers were clear: friendship, no love.

He met her in the underground and immediatly felt attracted. He sat down beside her and ignoring her staring out of the window he started talking to her, in english, because he felt more familiar than in german and could express himself easier. He demonstrately showd her his feelings, touching her shoulder and arm, grabbing her hands, etc. She felt quite uncomfortable and there were several stations to her house still left. She felt very sorry for him that his heart had choosen so wrong.

They met several months later, she had telephoned at last and again they went in a little café together and again in a pub later. A lovely evening again, there were enough stuff to talk and a comfortable basis of relaxed conversation-style. She could joke with him like with an older brother, or perhaps more like a younger brother because even he was 2 years older she had the impression of the charming naivity of a child, she enjoyed it. Nevertheless there were moments in the midst of conversation were she caught a dark glance in his eyes she wasn´t able to interpret. Fright and a shiver of panic touched her but she told herself not to be childish, he was only a friend, not more and showed no sign to long for more. Later when they had to go into different directions home he told her that his girlfriend had left him like others talk about a new shirt they bought last week, then they embraced shortly and said good-bye.

The words changed. At the beginning he had "liked" her, she was "sweet" and "funny" and he felt "attracted" and offered "friendship". Now it was "love", an "uncontrollable strong feeling", he was a "human being" just a "man" and she a "woman" and he couldn´t see "why not?" They had reached her home station and she got out, hoping to escape at last but no chance he followed immediatly and didn´t stop his explanations of love and "suffering". Her unwillingness was for him just a sign of "racial suspicion" so he became defiant and in some way agressive: "and why not? Because I´m black? Is it that? But I´m a human being, can´t you see?" "Sure I can, that´s not the problem, but you are a man and I´m not looking for a relationship or love or sex affair or whatever, I´m really not interested, I´m sorry, so sorry."

Another meeting, together they went to a concert from his friends in a little private club. Before they started they had some drinks and talking but she noticed that the conversation wasn´t so fluently and easily as before, often he stopped in the midst of a story or even a sentence and just stared at her as if he had completely forgotten what about they were talking. She tried to ignore it and filled the holes but it was hard work and her doubts grew. She tried to calm herself, that he knew about her homosexuality and must have accepted because they never had talked about love and feelings or relationship and other difficult things later, no intimacy, no deeper questions. A big release for her.

He nearly started crying in front of her, embraced her strongly and told her about the bible and Adam and Eve, that the woman should be the companion of the man and that she had to accept his feelings and handle him with care, etc. Her weak protest that she couldn´t love him in return he ignored completely, it wasn´t important. He had found his woman for life, a woman which attracted him, which he explodingly loved, it was kismet and God´s special will that she should become his woman. She was able to speak english and understood him, she was christian and well, she didn´t love him but it was her duty to develop love to him, wasn´t it? Moment of panic when he grabbed her more hardly and embraced her passionately, trying to free herself she knew that she was psychically killed from love again. "Stop it, go and don´t follow me any more."

During the concert her senses were absorbed by the music, she looked at the musicians, listened and applauded. It was fascinating and she nearly forgot the man beside her, but when she noticed him she felt guilty because she saw something growing in his inner which found way through his eyes and which frightened her deeply. She hoped that there would never be a word about it between them. Late at night, they had to separate, his embracing was much more intense for several seconds she struggled for freedom in his possessing arms squeezing his overwhelming love into her, killing her, as so many men before - without a word.

2009-05-08T11:00:00.000-07:00

Tim stood in his little room, there wasn´t much inside, a bed, a chair, a little black wardrobe like a big oppressive box, no carpet, no pictures at the wall, no plants on the windowsill. Friends who had come years ago thought he must become crazy in such a ruinous atmosphere or commit suicide. Well, he wasn´t crazy any more, he once had to stay in a psychiatric clinic for several weeks but that was because of different reasons and definitivly not because of the room´s tristesse. On the contrary, when Tim thought back he always had a queer feeling of familiarity and coming into calm seas by returning at home. It was his home and what others thought or said was nothing.

Tom entered his penthouse in the richest quarter of the town, took a glass of champagne and a spoonful of caviar, kissed his love Corinna and arranged the last grapes on the buffet. His friends would soon arrive, it was his birthday-party and he was extremely excited and a little nervous, too. Although he was really extremely rich and the son of high-born old families he never felt as a "bird in a golden cage", he thought it a stupid phrase just to make oneself interesting. He had friends, real friends and a lovely girl he was passionately in love for nearly 3 years now. There was no reason to blow the pipe of sadness.

Evening, 8 p.m. springtime and bright in the little room. Tim had come home from a long working day at hospital. He helped there for nearly nothing, just a pocket-money. He saw people die there because of cancer after short or long periods of treatment, strong therapies which weaken the patients and brought them near death. He saw their struggle, their hopes, their tryings of escape from the illness, but often, to be honest nearly in every case, death won and took them with him. Old people between 60 and 80 or even older and young people of 30, 20 or just children.

The first guests arrived with loud shouting, singing "happy birthday" and laughing. They congratulated Tom heartily and went into the party-room for dancing or in the other rooms for talking and eating. It was a light and relaxed atmosphere and Tom and Corinna went on dancing a calm blues, embracing each other and gliding away in the upper sphere of lover´s heaven. Normally he felt responsible for his friend´s comfort and offered drinks and food all the time but today he knew that it wasn´t necessary, they were his friends no strangers or business-men, he never had felt it more deeply and it made him blissful. There was Corinna in his arms, her body, her hair, her smile and her eyes, he couldn´t help being thankful, what a privileg, what kismet.

10 p.m. Tim had learned for his studies, he would have most of the exams in several months and the stuff to learn and to know was a lot. He hate himself for being so unconcentrated, lazy and without motivation. He studied jura for getting a job later and being able to earn money, but it wasn´t what he liked. He felt like denying his inner and burning down his dreams and visions. Everyone he thought in such moments have a special ability and he is sent on earth to let it grow, like in the bible the story with the talents you mustn´t bury. Sadness heavy as stone fell over him.

Tom had slept with Corinna in one of the little secret rooms, he was somewhat drowsy and dizzy from the champagne. Corinna slept beside him, he looked at her and seing her smile became all of a sudden soft and melancholic. What had life more to offer than love and beauty and what else could he demand. He was even at the beginning of his life but he felt quite old and experienced. Life had given him mor of its sweetest fruits than others but was there anything he could give back in return? What were his qualities and abilities to give him the right to see all this?

Tim painted a picture, his way to flee sadness and find a way out of thoughts of suicide and despair. Out of the colours grew a man in a garden, it was a lovely garden full of green and sunshine and other people reading or talking together. And in this idyllic scene he killed himself with a revolver.

Tom was found next morning. The music high above in the penthouse was too loud to hear the pang of his revolver. The garden was flooded with morning sunshine.

2009-04-27T13:04:00.000-07:00

Where is death? Who of the "normal people" has directly experienced how a human being or an animal dies? Who has consciously experienced, what it means to dy, how something lively changed into something dead? Who still knows, how to slaughter a chicken or a pig, how to shoot a deer or a hare, how an old drivelling grandmother pass slowly lingering illness and dies in the end?

We grow up into a clinical clean surrounding, where no blood, no dying, no death seams to exist. The meat we eat lies hygienically packed in refrigerated shelves of the supermarket and in its small and compact form doesn´t remind of the animal that it was before and had to be killed. Even near relatives dy quiet and secretly somewhere in an old people´s home or unobtrusive and hidden in a hospital, for not inquiering or dismaying others.

At the same time we are flooded with blood, dying and death. TV, radio, internet permanently report on war and destruction, pictures of bleeding corpses, children in shreds, burried people are part of our daily life, they build the horrible background when we work, eat, tidy up. The deaths are there and not there, frightening real and unreal, the connection between perception and feeling is cut because of the indirect conveyance of neutral media.

This seems exactly to be the key, that the difference between game and reality cover up, that crime and consequences, killing and dying are separated. A human being who hasn´t seen, what it means to cut off the chicken´s head or to shoot a deer and then to see how the animal really dies, eats its chicken McNuggets without thinking and plays moorchickenhunting. A human being who never has seen how life dissappears out of a person is still sure that warcraft is necessary to secure peace and cannot feel that every single warvictim is already one too much.

Shock and dismay on terror attacks or amok runs is hypocritical if it is only concentrated on the offender, he just re-establishs with his action for himself and all the others a connection between perception and feeling, it is in small what happens daily in big, directly in front of our eyes but normally separated from our sympathy. Show children death again, take them to hunting, let them experience what death and dying really means. But also show the grown-ups death again, send politicians directly on the battlefield, let them see people teared to pieces and dying.

Death will never be routed out, it is part of our life. Because we try to ignore this basic fact and hide and gloss it over and emotionally exclude it from daily life, the inexplicable can go on directly in front of our eyes. Children and youth just let us see into a mirror. We can turn away with shiver and damn and punish this lost youth or at last accept the challenge, look in and confrontate us with our own horrible grimace of the offender.

2009-04-22T01:24:00.000-07:00

"Helen? Is it really you? Here in this country? In this town, at this special place?" It was too late to escape, she had seen me first and as a natural habit of her character immediatly came straight to me, sitting in the shadow of a tree in the gras, reading and sometimes just looking around. I was on holidays in Italy, to be honest I was escaped from the bad english weather into the south, without an exact aim but after some times of lingering around here and there I went to Florenz and now I was nearly 2 weeks in this town I knew from a study travel in college times.

"Susan, that´s Helen, one of my special friends at the college. She was the one who opened my eyes about myself." Oh yes, I did and I gained nothing but hate and rejection and had to accept that the close circle of friends were now and forever shut for me, I was thrown out immediatly and never got the chance to enter again. Well, perhaps that´s not at all correct, I myself never tried to get in closer contact after the desaster, I was too humiliated and ashamed by her demonstration of her powers.

"And that´s Susan, my new love, we met 3 months ago in a museum in Paris and madly fell in love and now we decided to go on some sort of a "marriage travel" and which town could be better for it than Florenz?" She was madly in love, congratulation. In her very typical way of honesty she had shown her happiness and luck directly, with the brutality of a child or a genious not thinking about the feelings of others. She was always so and perhaps this was the speciality that gave her the charm and freshness that attracts everyone she meets.

"Come on Susan, sit down for a while, it´s so fantastic that we met Helen, how long havn´t we seen us?" Over ten years. I looked at her with critical eyes sitting now next to me, talking about her life and former times, Susan next to her, shy and somewhat uncomfortable what I could easily understand, not knowing how to cope with this funny situation. But there was nothing to criticize, she was taller than before, her style of clothing was more elegant but still nonconformal as in our times, her hair always short were now much longer and draped in a node which gave her the impression of strength and power. I myself felt like a child compared with her having not built an exact characterline and being as unsure of myself and the world as before.

"What have you done all the years? And why havn´t you written or telephoned?" Written or telephoned? I was shocked, she had capped all our strings of friendship, had stopped answering my letters in which I had tried to explain or excuse myself. Yes I wasn´t able to write or talk to her after college time, I left town and country and fled, the only way for me to handle pain and conflicts, not very brave, I know. I had studied a bit, had worked, had started different jobs and professions but never had the perseverance to do it longer than 1 or 2 years, then I had to leave again. She talked about her life in these 10 years, about her career, her love affairs, the others from our course and their ways, she was full of life and energy and charming as usual, I never would have exspected her to be like this when we would meet again. A year after college I had seen her downtown shopping with a man on her side, I guessed her friend.

"Oh no, that was only Alex, a neighbour, I always pretended at college that I would marry him, you remember? But well, you were quite right with your guess that I´m a lesbian. And how thankful I must be that you let me see myself as I am." All the years her hateful words had followed me, that I must be crazy even to think such thing about her and how brutal I am and that´s a fault she never would be able to forget and that I had to understand that even normal friendship with me is now completely impossible forever.

"Yes Susan, Helen was my destiny-angel, she awaked me and gave me enough braveness to think about loving a woman. Without her I would be now a very unlucky married woman with perhaps 2 or 3 children and no taste of real love." Susan looked half thankful half suspicious at me and I unwillingly laughed about the absurdity. I was frozen in this moment of her "awakening" as she called it, unable to offer my feelings of love again, frozen in the allmelting sun of Florenz.

2009-04-13T00:52:00.001-07:00

Life is only in writing. It wasn´t that what I had hoped or wished but it was that what I had to accept after long years of trying other ways and making experiences in real life. There was nothing outside my papers and pencil. And I had so strong hoped it.

Sitting in a café. There were lots of people, for them life was something real something what happened every day without thinking or planning, it was there glued on their bodies or maybe souls or thoughts I don´t know. I see them talking, I see them acting, planning the next days, finding together, separating, loving, hating. It was a lot I saw, the world offered them the complete palette of life and they took it, didn´t see a problem or thinking that it´s a happening, a wonder, something extraordinary.

There is life inside my head, there is reality and lots of stories but now I fear phantasie and imagination killed reality. There must have been a circle around me nobody wanted to enter, it keeps the distance and separates me from the world all the others live in.

Hey world where are you, is there a chance for me, too, to enter? I´m waiting for a wonder, but never will it happen. I´m waiting, not exactly knowing what for. Life is boring, life kills you when you cannot enter it, when you havn´t the capability to jump in. I´ve tried to enter, by hard I swear, I´ve tried to get in contact but life threw me back, didn´t want me. Is there something strange on me, why is it impossible for me to live in reality like all the others, like nearly the whole world? I hate it to be fixed to live only on a piece of paper, only when I have a pen in my fingers, writing with blood from my failure in life, the pain grows because writing separates you even more.

She was found in a little room at a hotel one morning. Dead. She had killed herself. The few persons who knew her where looking for some explaining paper, because they remember her writing about nearly everything. But there was nothing, not a single hint why she wasn´t able to live any more. She had entered life through the completely unknown door of death.

2009-04-08T00:20:00.000-07:00

I stare at the receiver, nothing I´d like to say I had said - as usual, and never will I able to talk about the real important things on telefon. Nearly two hours, you can talk a lot in this time but you can conceal even more. You made jokes about the desaster on a firm meeting two days before, you cannot say that you nearly wanted to break out completely, that crazyness had possessed you for the rest of the day. The restless walks through the streets, sitting at the shore of the little lake you´d dreamt of death and making an end at last. No, that´s nothing to speak about. And your selfhate? Sitting in the café, drinking tea, seing all the people aorund you and feeling completely isolated, from others, from life in general? No theme for a weekend-talk. Your doubts concerning your work? What you would be able to do? There´s nothing what you really like to do, everything a mess, a burden a string around your neck, holding you short like a barking dog longing for freedom. No, mother, no talk to hassle you, I´ve made enough troubles and sorrows all the years, I hate me for it. Yes, it´s a shame to disturb everyone I love with my difficulties. It would be easier - perhaps - if I´d be able to express all this to someone, but it would kill my little bit of selfrespect completely.

The man in the boutique with the extravagante and expensive clothes, leaning against a wall, the hands behind his back looking at the salesman helping a man choosing a new dress. Tension, his hands squeezed together in pain, his breast like under some tons of weight, his head flopping around in uncontrollable thoughts. Why always only the role of a spectator, a foreign visitor nobody knows, nobody wants to know, no matter where he was or with whom. He was the spectator, the listener, passive, not in touch with reality, separated. How he longed for this person over there, but no word came from his lips, he stood and in the midst of his pains he hurried away, an escape into the even greater pains of selfhate and disgust.

- oh hello Daniel, how are you?
- fine, fine
- you have changed the job I heard?
- yes, since two weeks
- and how is it?
- well I´m still at the beginning but it´s ok

Always these conversations about nothing. I want to die, flying away forever, give me a revolver and I cancel my spectatorjob on earth, I´ve seen enough, I want to come home. Thinking about killing myself in different ways and that I´ll become crazy soon I take the receiver, weekend-call at home.

2009-03-31T01:41:00.001-07:00

I see a father outside in the garden, the weather is clear and he plays with his little child, 3 or 4 years old. It is running from a certain distance directly in his opened arms, he swings it around and around and there´s this cry, high and pointed "Iiiiiiii" expressing its joy and happiness about the game, the time with its father, the wonderful day, its being young and living.

Walking through the streets of the city along the little river I see a crowd of birds, sea-gulls suddenly flying high above into the sky directly into the sun as it seams, over the heads of all the poor human beings without wings and I hear them cry, high and pointed "Iiiiiiii" and I´m thinking of their freedom and triumph to fly away whenever they like to.

It´s sunday morning and I hear our cat in her basket, wanting to get out, we always close her basket at night because of the baby and normally I get up early enough for her. Today her screaming "Iiiiiii" reminds me of something, half asleep I see a child and sea-gulls high above. The cat´s cry comes directly from her pain and involuntary imprisonment, I get up and let her free, the "Iiiii" still in my ears.

Is there a cry so pure and from the bottom of all creature´s soul to unify ourselves with the rest of the nature? The cry hasn´t a meaning by itself it´s just the surrounding that gives it the connotation: sometimes joy, sometimes pain, sometimes just a signal, a warning. Let me fall in the chorus of these united voices, joy, freedom or the opposite, I´ll cry with you.

2009-03-26T02:23:00.001-07:00

"Oh hello, what a surprise, you here? I thought..." she hesitated, suddenly realizing about the last happening between them, the unpleasant event of a failed exam. She wavered a bit here and there with her hands, smiled apologizingly pointing to the room full of students waiting for her and escaped.

It seemed long ago, years and years, since the time I had trusted her, since the time where I thought of her as one of the very few teachers who is able to understand her students and who practice a relationship of strength and friendship. It was the last year in college, I studied mathematics and physics and she was one of my teachers I had nearly every semester straight from the beginning. She had courses in every phase and so every student knew her. She was famous and popular working with her was refreshing because she was full of energy, loved the themes she presented with all her heart and her way of teaching was quite "special". Most would have called it "chaotic" and "unsystematically" but I always thought it a very creative way, she produced new ideas and thoughts nearly every lesson and accepted this way of "randomized thinking" from her students, too. Project-work was full of surprises and unexspected results, we all forgot completely the time when we had our "creative hours".

My collegue told me about a talk he had with a student we both knew from courses. He was completely out of range. He wasn´t able to value his qualities and faculties any more. It wasn´t his habit to speak openly about "problems" so it must be a real pain when he went to my collegue. I immediatly thought of the exam. He wasn´t able to answer really easy questions of the basics. I myself was shocked, I thought high of his knowledge and now? I asked and he answered completely wrong. Talking with my collegue about we noticed that it was a complete misunderstanding at the beginning and because of my rough reaction, I know I´m impulsive but in this situation it really was quite wrong, he felt totally confused so that the rest of the exam was done. He had talked about the wish of killing himself and his hopelessness, his desillusion about his future and so on, my collegue just told me in short. But there was no way to change the result, and there was no meeting after this to talk about it, only another exam, in written form, where he recovered his brilliancy and had the best grade of the whole course. But I noticed that he avoided me the last days and never would have accepted a free talk with me.

I was taken aback, I hadn´t thought to meet her again, my brain was cleaned of her existance, I stood like stone, a frozen grin on my face, hearing her words but not able to understand them, it sounded like a foreign language. Her quick change from real surprise and honest delight to uncertainty and troubled hesitation and in the end a form of feeling ashamed and uncomfortable in my presence. Her words glided down and I stood, my feelings iced to ban the gigantic explosion I feared. Like stone - for the rest of my life.

2009-03-15T06:40:00.001-07:00

She was old, no, not as you think long out of age where you´re interested in love and sex affairs, not such old. I think she was at her beginning forties, but I myself was just 22 and looking still with the eyes of children she was old. I admired her, she was my new boss at the clinic where I just started my internship and she was perfect in everything she did. Was it a crime to adore her, to think of doing her a favour, cooking tea for her, bringing sweets for her or cookies? Well, it wasn´t only for her, it was for the whole team, 5 to 7 people I liked, too, but in my imagination it was specially for her.

A new member in our team, nearly fresh from school, completely unexperienced and with these wide and interested eyes babies and children have. I was impressed because it´s not often that you see grown-ups with such eyes. Se wasn´t pretty and at the beginning really no great help, you had to explain her everything, that took time we never had in our working day. But surprisingly she was quite fast in learning and after 2 or 3 weeks we noticed her help intensely. Our boss an older nurse and experienced in nearly every ward of the clinic at first hadn´t noticed her, she worked in a different shift and never had to do all the inferior work like beding, serving breakfast, preparing dinner, cutting cellulose and carrying bedpans.

- I´m becoming old
- what are you talking of?
- I said I´m becoming old, it´s terrible
- why do you talk like this? You´re only 4 years older than I
- perhaps they are the important ones
- oh come on, don´t be silly
- and I´m still stupid like a teenager, falling in love like a silly cow
- you??? tell me more!
- no, it´s too sad I never dreamt and hoped like this before and I never was so sure that I´ve not the slightest chance
- come on don´t talk in mysteries, I don´t understand a word

It was the new internship my boss had fallen in love and because of the over 20 years difference she tried to forget about the whole affair and hide her feelings completely. It must have been painful to tell me about, but we had started our nurse education together and over the years of work had become friends. But was there any hopes I was able to give? To be honest no. I tried to find out about her sexual preferences and being young and without any prejudices and fears she smiled and outed herself easily as lesbian. I thought "bingo"!

I had thought that it was my age which stood between us, I wasn´t sure if she could have been lesbian as I, I just felt that I went mad because of overwhelming love to a person completely untouched and unexperienced. She had not a glimmer of sexual habit, she was neutral like an iceberg and I asked myself why I was burning like hell. She shone in the beauty of pure - being, unreal because of the complete lack of gender, so I imagine angels.

2009-03-08T07:56:00.000-07:00

She had invited me twice, does this mean she feels perhaps more than accepting my qualities at work? I wanted to invite her, too, but impossible, she strictly denied it and I saved my money. I felt nothing fer her, it was only curiousity that let me think about her feelings. I noticed that she clothed herself correct and perfect but there were these real short skirts, the open blouse, more rouge on her cheeks and a new very sweet perfum odeur. She played a role I guessed, she presented me the woman she never wanted to be, the little "femme" as the french say.

She had an affair with nearly every new member of the team, it seems as if her sexual appetite always needed new fruits to taste, and the more exotic the better. We male collegues were surprised how easily she snatched new victims, it seems as if she had some mixture or magician trick she used because there were not one man in the whole firm who hadn´t break in after some time. I myself included. It didn´t last long but when I think back my heart again starts beating with double power.

The new collegue, how long will it take this time? She had started immediatly with her game. Yes I couldn´t call it something else because there wasn´t any seriousness in the whole affair it would last 3 or 4 weeks, maximum perhaps 2 or 3 months, but the end was calculated as before, it wouldn´t be the "man for life" as one used to say. Often I think it´s only her way of demonstrating her sexual power and top-position. As men always used to do when they are successful and rich. A man who behaved like this was quite normal nobody would start mocking about, it was accepted in community. But a woman? It wasn´t correct to judge her with different measure but we all felt shocked about, it was scandalous. How long will it last, that was the one and only thought that whispered through the rooms and floors of the whole firm. We pitied the new victim in future.

I had brought her home after a client-meeting we had finished successfully. It was late the fight was not easy and we had reason to clap our shoulders. I laughed relieved and gave her five. It was some sort of boisterousness between us, so my concentration wavered away and relaxed after this heavy day I accepted her offer to come in for a tea and some snacks she still had from her birthday two days before. I awaked when she tried to kiss me, oh no, no, no, that wasn´t what I´d exspected. She looked askingly and I thought it a good chance to tell her that I´m homosexual.

He broke the wall of sexual affairs I had built around me to protect myself. You laugh? You´re right, it´s a stupid way to protect oneself but I feared real feelings and intimacy, I feared the people around me. But now he had opened a way I never had seen before: he offered friendship and gave me the freedom I needed. "It´s like offering fruits and vegetables to a carnivore, or food to an alien from mars who needn´t eat", he said in his excusing tone for not hurting me and the ban fell down.

2009-02-27T02:57:00.001-08:00

Is this really the town I lived in for 3 years? The longest time I ever stayed at one place? I´m here waiting for something or someone, I don´t know exactly what I exspect but there´s nothing.

Nothing at the college I studied so long. I walk through the building surprised and astonished, it looks strange after the years of being away, I hardly recognize the rooms where we sat, student by student, heads deep on our papers, writing everything down the teacher said in the first semester, writing hardly nothing down in the last. There are still teachers I know, older now but doing exactly the same in exactly the same way as in our times.

Nothing in the streets I so often wander along that I nearly could walk through them with closed eyes, noone I know, noone I even want to know. The shops are the same, the book-shop I often went in just to destroy myself, to read into the new books when I had time between two courses or during lunch-time. There´s the music-shop where I bought piano-notes for my sister and there´s the shoe-shop, I never bought shoes there but I liked to look at these really strange shoe-models I never would be able to wear.

Nothing in the café where I was so often in the evenings after a long day, drinking my cup of tea there and observing the other guests. There are still many guests there, some quite interesting to watch at but I´m a stranger here, except the waiters noone knows me. There´s not the happiness about the "lost son´s return", no friends waiting for me, I´m alone, what am I doing here?

This is the town I lived in for 3 years, a real long time, lifetime which never will come back again, and I´ve exspected to feel something when I return after years elsewhere. I´m a fool, a dreamer, don´t I remember the time there? I was a stranger when I lived here, I am a stranger now, nothing has changed, how could it, I never had friends here, so nobody can wait for me now. I dreamt of "home" but I know I´ll never find it, I hardly know what this word means. I´m awaken in the crispy coolness of reality and there´s nothing.

2009-02-24T03:03:00.001-08:00

Would I be able to love again, after years and years of solitude? I had killed my feelings because love always was pain and failure for me. I had tried 2 or 3 times when I was young between 16 and 22, the last was the worst and I sweared never to fall in love again.

Would I be able to love again? The girl over there in the train attracts my attention. She isn´t really beautiful, but her eyelashes are extremely long and so the eyes have a special charme. I look at her but there aren´t any feelings except a certain interest which you also have when you observe an exotic animal. Her handy rings, she´s really embarrassed and looks apologizing to the other people around. When our eyes met I smile understandingly and she answers with her little laugh. And there´s this strange feeling that I like to laugh with her, a flutter in the stomach a tickle and the absurd thought how it might be to share our laughs.

Would I be able to love again? I´m in a café, on the table next to me 3 girls, talking. I look, how would it be to flirt with one, and which one would I choose? It´s a sort of a game, one is really pretty I judge neutral without any feelings. Her hair is short and blond, she has a dominant style of speaking, behaving, yes I like it and there´s strength in her upright sitting and gesturing. How would it be to touch her, to finger through her short hair? Feeling her skin? For long there´s no chance to keep her eyes but then she shockes me with a directly stare at me and throws me into a short time of intimacy and nearness and there´s this feeling again: wanting to laugh with her.

Would I be able to love again? There´s this girl on the street, hopping around, waving her hair, laughing about something I don´t know what. A man on her side, holding her hand, looking down at her in a protecting and adoring way. Could I imagine to be on his position, holding her hand, being a couple of love? I follow them, concentrating on her long brown hair, it reminds me of summer and wind at the north sea, freedom, games of lightness. She looks back, seing me she winks with an eye, laughing, I think of a young foal, frolicsome. I smile back, there´s tenderness between us, just for a second and I´d like to laugh with her for the rest of my life.

I must answer No. There are still moments when I think "sure I can" feeling quite strong and filled with loving energy, but the moments will become more and more rare, I havn´t the power any more, too many years of cooling down my burning heart has shown an effect: I´m psychically crippled there´s no chance.

But there´s still the longing for a person coming along, laughing with me and the end of this endless asking myself: Would I be able...

2009-02-23T08:31:00.000-08:00

I´ve wasted my whole life looking for a man.

The woman I want to tell you from is nearly 70. Born in the time of fascisme and Worldwar II, in a time wher women´s only aim was to find a man and marry and bring up the children, etc. she had to leave school after 9 years. She wasn´t content with her father´s decision because she liked learning and her grades were the best of the whole class. She fled into work, trying to forget the ashaming fact that she wasn´t able to study. Sure there were men who fell in love and wanted to marry her, but as she didn´t had any responding feelings for them she always denied their proposal. Her father went furious, her mother worried, her younger sister was married earlier, her older brother gave her "good advices" and brought his friends home to pander her. It was a real mess. In the end she tried to find acceptance at work and forgot about the private side of life.

I always think it´s my fault that I´m not married, I´m so full of self-criticism that I couldn´t understand how one was able to love me, I couldn´t believe it. There was a man who loved my smile and the way I looked when I felt ashamed, a man who was only interested in my body, I was a woman and that was enough, a man who thought I was open-minded enough for his cruel sexual habits. They always liked only a facette of me, most of them never had seen all the other sides. I dreamt of a man to whom I would be able to show the whole person and who would be strong enough to stand my darkest sides, too. I never found him.

It was an excuse she tried to believe herself, but in her inner she knew that the real problem was far away from that. She had fallen in love once, she was young and full of emotion, she wanted to share the beauty of the world, her feelings, her heart but the person she loved with the strongness and intensity of a young girl of about 16 wasn´t even able to understand her longings.

Yes, there was some sort of love in my life, but too early it was killed and I never gave it the chance to grow up again. With my feelings and hopes, my dreams and offers I was completely taken aback and I felt so hurt and denied that I lost all my courage to love. Later there were short episodes, a tickle of feeling burning inside again, but I was never again brave enough to offer it directly.

She´ll die alone and without the most important experience of human beings. Perhaps God will forgive her but she never will be able to forgive herself.

I´ve wasted my whole life looking for a man but in my inner I knew that I wanted to find a woman.

2009-02-07T02:11:00.000-08:00

It must be really lonesome at the top of the hierarchical pyramide, she always thought when her boss told her something unspectacular just to get in contact with her. With her! a subordinate worker nearly at the bottom of the hierarchical - and financial - system. She never was brave enough to start the conversation or ask something, he was so high above and always seemed so occupied with really important things. But today her view had changed a little and in some way she felt sorry for him.

Who is she, he thought on his way home. It was late - as usual, he had worked long, it was not easy to come to an end and he forgot to watch the clock. His family would be furious, and they were right, it wasn´t o.k. that a father of two children always came home so late. He knew they would wait with the dinner but that wasn´t the point, he would see the accusation in their eyes and later in bed his wife would ask him about his day and work. And he wouldn´t be able to speak with her and tell her about all the problems. He always finds it difficult explaining what he does the whole day long or telling just simple happenings, there are so many during the day. He thought about this woman in his team, she was new and very silent, never she said something in his presence, only when he asked her, but her eyes were open and friendly, he always thought that they say "welcome, why don´t you come in?"

It was time to go home, she was late, hadn´t watched the clock, the work had held her attention, now she closed the windows, computer, copy-maschine, lights out. In came her boss, not seing her, going straight into his own room. "Can I close the door or do you still have to work inside?" She asked him hesitately. He looked up from his papers and stared for a moment at her "well, I´d like to go now, but when you stay...?" What should she do, it was an awfully painful moment. At least he pointed to the papers he carried and at once started telling her the story of a client and his special case and problem. Suddenly he stopped, looked quite unsure. She felt that he liked to go on but didn´t know if she would like to hear it. The second she just opened her mouth for asking him to go further he went back to his room, plunging the papers on his desk and went, the moment of intimacy was over.

What a fool I am, he thought enerved. You havn´t the right to disturb the woman´s normal life. It must be shocking for her, I´m her boss. I´m always so disciplined, noone can blame me that I take advantage of my collegues, in contrary. But her silent eyes encouraged me to speak, the words slipped out of my mouth against my will. But I mustn´t do it again, it´s weakness.

If he wouldn´t be my boss, I am sure we would become close friends, his personality is similar to mine, his way of working and thinking is quite familiar for me. But I know there´s no possibility to find a way to him, he´ll call it weakness, exactly as I would do in his position.

2009-02-06T01:46:00.001-08:00

- sure she´ll stay how can she go, now when they offered her a complete fulltime-job
- and I say she´ll leave us after this half year
- but how can you know?
- I don´t know exactly but I´ve that strong feeling about
- perhaps you´re wrong

Most of the crew don´t even think about the possibility that I could leave them, they are so proud of their firm and their town and everybody who had come during the years were happy when he could stay - I´m not. I want to go straight away as soon as possible, there´s nothing which can held me back, nothing. I never promised to do this work until the end of my life and this town, well, I like it but there are still so many others I don´t know.

I don´t want her to leave, I like her, but why is there this strange feeling that she had to go? Are there any signs which make me believe it? Yes there are. At first I didn´t notice it but then I pricked up my ears: she never said "yes" or "I hope" when someone spoke from the possibility to work here after her internship, she smiled and the only thing she was able to add was a "we´ll see" or "it´s still long till then". I made some sort of a trap, when I announced by the way that she would leave us perhaps and what "drama" would happen, but she still smiled and said "let´s wait and see, there´s no decicion at all."

- don´t you feel happy about the whole affair?
- you mean that she´ll stay?
- yes, so your feeling was wrong in the end.
- no, not wrong but I havn´t exspected that she would sacrifice herself so easily.
- what do you mean with "sacrifice"?
- look into her eyes, they are extinct she has denied herself by staying.
- you always overreact, I´m really content how the damn question about all this documentation stuff is right out of my way.
- shure for all of us it´s the most convenient solution.

Why did I say "yes", why did I stay, why didn´t I go, it´s the wrongest thing I ever did, I´ll kill myself sooner or later. I need fresh air, but how can I go, now, when everything is clear and everybody tells me how "useful" I am, ridiculous.

- so I heard you´ll stay?
- well, I like the town
- other towns are nice, too
- yes, that´s right
- (lowering the voice) you have to go, it´s unhealthy for you to stay, escape when it is still possible
- but...
- no "but", I myself was exactly in the same situation as you are years ago. I made the biggest mistake of my life and staid, now I often ask myself why and what for. They´ll break your wings, so fly away when you´re still able to fly.

2009-01-26T01:25:00.000-08:00

- what are you doing on sunday?
- oh, I don´t know yet
- what about going to a café?
- yes, why not

He was really surprised about himself, it wasn´t his habit to ask someone to do something with him, he thought himself too old for such stuff. 38 was an age where you have wife and family or have decided to stay alone. And now this question, this "rendez-vou" on sunday, he was nervous, excited and anxious, what would happen, what could happen maybe?

Why had she said yes, hasn´t she learned from all the other failures? Man is man, always the same. It was late when she came home from his home, after the tea and later dinner at the café he had invited her to go to him to meet his cat and look at his new picture they had talked of. It wasn´t far and just on her way home so she again said yes, so or so it wasn´t an awful evening.

- at first I thought it could be an interesting evening, I knew him from work and he always was very helpful and patient when I came with all my questions. I was new and he had the experiences, so I wanted to learn from him
- and then? why wasn´t it nice?
- at first I found it interesting when he told about his work, his experiences, the life with his friends, the other jobs he does at the week-ends
- but?
- but it was as always, I slipped into the role of the good listener and "adorer" and became smaller and smaller
- he is older than you?
- yes, nearly 10 years, but that´s not the problem, it´s more the habit that men always think they had to teach you
- so you feel like a child?
- exactly and the worst I react like one, I´m more careless and demonstrativly naiver than I am used to be

The 2nd meeting was a catastrophe: she came late, he was furious, she played once more the child´s role he told exactly the same old stories about his friends, jobs, etc. She had the impression to see the mating season ritual of a cock, he was high above proudly presenting himself as a "superman" and didn´t even notice that again she said at most two sentences the whole evening long.

- what are you doing at the week-end?
- I don´t know yet
- what about making a tour with the bicycles?
- a third meeting? Heaven help! Better not arrange!
- but didn´t you enjoy it?

2009-01-06T01:34:00.000-08:00

I was here, sitting in an old sofa and waiting, but there were noone else as usual. I had hoped that several time later other people would arrive, perhaps only 3 or 4, but nobody, that wasn´t what I´d exspected. Well, to be honest I had feared it, there was this strange feeling to be at the wrong time at the wrongest place you can imagine. I should be were all the others were, outside, in the sun, perhaps swimming in the lake nearby, diving and puddling and having a lot of fun, but my place was here in the dark cave of my humble body. Even if he tries to be on my service I hate him, it´s the 2nd enemy I have after myself. How can others live in peace with themself just staying calm and in harmony with the whole world.

"Hey my dear, what are you sitting here, alone in your room? Come on, go out to the others, fresh air and sun will destroy all your depressing thoughts, come on, out, out, running around the fields and in the near forrest and you´ll be someone else."

I hate her voice, this sharp thrilling sound, isn´t it enough that I had to obey? I don´t like going out, I enjoy sitting here, having time for thinking, time for the really important things life has to offer. There are so many questions about life in generell, about love and death and about this thing called solitude. Most of us never have the courage to search for answers, they ignore that being alone sometimes or most of the time is a fact. Perhaps you are more interested in this theme when you´ve a lot of experience. When I´m looking back I never was a certain member of a group, I learned by hard what it means to be an outsider. They couldn´t explain why they were suspicious, some said it was because of my adult language use, but that´s really stupid. The only reason I for myself could guess is my strong interest in asking questions about nearly everything and thinking about death and destruction.

- oh look, Mr. black is coming.
- why "Mr. black"?
- I see, you´re new here, it´s his nickname, everyone gets one after a time, even an outsider like him.
- an outsider?
-yes, he´s always in thoughts and I´m sure he´s not able to cooperate in a group, that´s a catastrophe to be honest.
- why?
- oh, like to be an outsider, too?
- no, but...
- he´s questioning the whole day long - like you!
- what about?
- hell, shut up, I don´t know, about love, hate, friendship, the green of the grass and the trees, the water in the lake and so on and so on
- and about death?
- of course about death, but now, just to please me, be quiet.
- o.k.
- what about a run to this large chestnuttree over there?

The most awful days are the ones when strangers come. They walk all around, looking here and there, being curious and penetrant. I always try to hide myself somewhere, but it doesn´t work always. Suddenly they stand near the door and look to the sofa where I normally sit and think. There´s this suspicious look in their eyes, sometimes pity or a glance I can´t put in its proper place. I´m full of fear and anxiety is growing in my inner. I´m really reliefed when they are gone.

- Hanna, I say it definitivly, we´ll never find a new home for him.
- wait, wait honey, he isn´t as bad as people think who see him for the first time.
- he is crazy!
- no, only very special, you have to become familiar with his personality, then you´ll start liking him
- I never will like him I promise!
- Shhh, don´t shout like that, he is very sensitive
- oh my god, you´re as crazy as he
- never mind, if we don´t find someone for him, he´ll stay here.
- and all the others?
- well, one dog more or less won´t be a problem.

2008-12-25T09:52:00.000-08:00

I´m doing my work correctly. I´m always here from 8 to 4 but usually I start earlier and go home much later. There´s no time for lunch or I being honest forget about it, there´s only once a month time for a cup of tea during the day. I´m not unsatisfied with the situation I stopped thinking about long ago. I don´t want that one has something to correct or any remarque concerning my work, I don´t like critics.

- oh, you´re still here?
- well...
- workingday´s ending at 4
- I know but I havn´t watched the time, I was busy with this special case here
- I know there are many people here who stopped working immediatly at 4, it´s honorable for you if you´ve other principles. I myself normally work till 7 or 8 that´s no problem (there´s a strange tone in his voice) if you find your work fascinating and like it. (he paused, then, as finding back to his daily voice) I wish there would be more like you here.
- thanks, I never thought about it.

He was a good boss, working hard for the firm, most of the time the first who came and the last who went. He was a calm person didn´t talk much, just the necessary things. He was very precice didn´t like pondering around and making a fuss of words over a thing. "Short and exact" was his device. There were this new employée, just one month in his group and even more quiet than himself. At first he hasn´t noticed her just wondering whoelse works early in the morning and still in late-afternoon. She reminds him of his youth, his start in this firm.

There it is, just a moment perhaps but precice like a shot in your heart: A sceptical glance out of the edge of his eyes and she knows, he has seen through her, he knows that she doesn´t like her work, this stupid and never ending documentation of cases, most of them closed years ago but for her still daily work. She is ashamed, looking down she tries to reconcil her composure. She works hard and overaverage for not showing how she hates it.

After 4 months she gets the chance to stay and work for the next 3 years in the firm, the leader of the whole department is there smiling enthusiastically at her and also her boss. She feels like being catched in a trap, fearfully she looks around not exspecting that anyone will understand her pain, her helplessness. She captured a warning glance from her boss and with a pang she realizes: The scepsis in his eyes, was it only for her?

2008-12-09T01:16:00.001-08:00

I´m a human being, not more but also not less.
I´m not put into a drawer, not labeled.
I´m valuable and important, will be accepted for what I can and be.

Like this a human being can feel itself who comes to my yard.
Like this a human being should arrive and be allowed to be itself.
Like this it will be accepted for what it can and be.

No number any more, not put into clichés of gender and nationality, no diagnostic categories which brand and sorted out, not judged by superficiality and handicaps, but to see abilities and strong points, that´s an ideal that I want to realize.

Sometimes I ask myself, why everyone wants to be equal, why is equality often so much more important than differences, which makes everyone unique and to something special? Why is it even often necessary to use an equal language to be allowed to be part of a community? Am I another person if I use other words? Sure, but what´s so bad at? Aren´t we all unlike others and basically different and isn´t this exactly what connects us with each other? Why should I twist myself and adapt just to be like you if it is better for you and me to use the abilities and strong points from both of us.

My first friends in Kindergarten was an italian and a half-african girl. As a child I wasn´t aware about it, certainly, they looked a little bit different and they could speak different words as I, but for a child the differences are always much clearer and the world more manifold, but it doesn´t divide up or build categories.

Later I was on a girls school, the differences between us were gigantic, some were good in german, some in maths or sports, some were good teamworkers, some prefer working alone. At university I was confronted with young men, which always said "typical woman" by everything I wasn´t able to do, although I knew enough women, which have the ability to do this. I fought against their thinking, I didn´t want to stand for the whole woman-community with my individual and surely not genderspezific failings.

Not long ago I made the experience that in a group which is involved in the same project it comes also to a forced uniformity. In the sector of woman´s liberation-work there´s an unspoken but absolutely prescribed phraseology which excludes everyone sooner or later who doesn´t keep to. On the basis of seemingly unity and harmony every form of individuality is seen as a betrayal, if you don´t say "Gästinnenzimmer" (guestroom, constructed female form, doesn´t exist grammatically) and "Rechtsanwältinnenkongress" (lawyercongress, female form, excludes men grammatically) you aren´t part of. I´m definitivly tolerant in thinking and doing, even when I don´t use these wordmonsters and don´t subordinate to this languagedictate.

So I´d like to build a place where differences don´t led to hate and quarrel or even worse exclusion but where differences are seen as a chance, where different point of views, ways of go up to and ideas one can help each other and going forward and develop further. Each individual is unique and differ from all others. To see this and accept it opens the way to one and all, from human being to human being besides all differences.

2008-12-08T02:09:00.000-08:00

I´d like to tell you a story, just a little one with no real ending because nobody knows what future will bring so at the moment the end is still open.

In this story there´ll be a man of about 23 years, well, no, make him a little older, 25 and another man about the same age. They are friends since their time at school, where the story begins: One of the boys, I´ll call him Matthieu, is the typical outsider - quiet, likes reading, doesn´t like playing football at the playground with the others, isn´t good at sports, etc. and has no friends except Jim, the complete opposite as it seems - he´s always talking and laughing, having a crowd of boys around him which admire him and would go straight through the fire for him if it would be necessary. Normaly it isn´t because Jim is strong and sportive and needs nobody´s help. Matthieu has to accept the popularity of his friend. At the beginning it´s not easy seing all the others around him and seing how easy and quite natural Jim is everybodys darling, he is jealous, wants to go far far away and cut the friendship immediatly. But there are moments where he feels the speciality of their relationship. Something extraordinary he isn´t able to explain.

They grow up, Matthieu has learned how to handle the friends character, he accepts Jim´s other friendships because he knows that their friendship is out of compare and nothing will change it. There´s the time of first love affairs, a time when Jim adores every week another girl, hoping that there´ll be more than kissing and embracing at last, a time where Matthieu falls madly in love to a boy two classes above who has not the slightest interest. Later, at the beginning of their students time they both laugh about these "events".

Later on Jim has a relationship with a girl in his course which lasts nearly 1 1/2 year, then it is over, nobody knows exactly why. Matthieu doesn´t find someone - as expected, it´s probably his character, his destiny of an outsider. They study in different towns but they don´t loose contact, they write and one or two times a year they visit each other. There´s a change in Jim, he´s calmer now, not the talkative alpha-personality any more, perhaps we can say, he´s more serious, asking more philosophical questions about life and god, himself and love, etc. The relationship between them is even more closer, if this is possible, they could talk the whole night, never being without interesting theme. They havn´t always the same opinion, quite normal, but whatever they are discussing they know they are friends and nothing can break their friendship.

And then there´s this meeting after several months of rare contact, Matthieu is in Jim´s region and visits him spontaneous. Jim´s full of excitement overtalkative as in his early youth with burning skin and lots of news: Five months ago he has met Peter at a party and head over heels fallen in love and since two months everything is clear between them, they are a couple. He smiles his inner happyness, pride and luck out of every pore, alightning the world around. And Matthieu strangely feels that this is exactly what he has known all the time but didn´t want to see. He has closed his eyes for the most evident facts. A veil is falling between them, no, not a veil a wall of solid stone, black and no chance to push through. He remembers how easily he was able to accept his love affairs and even the relationship with the girl from Jim´s course, there was never jealousy because deep in his inner he had known that Jim´s heart wasn´t touched - long before Jim for himself knew. Now Peter will take Matthieu´s place.

Later he´ll manage to laugh about it - maybe.

2008-12-06T06:56:00.001-08:00

"Why am I a boy!" It was not his usual manner to wish being a girl, he felt quite comfortable with his gender but just in this very special moments he knew that it would make things much easier for him and the rest of the world.

They were rehearsing for a christmas-show, again and again Peter the coordinator and trainer pushed them to do their best, trying flip-flops and acrobatic tasks separately to become familiar with them, his words were that they had to be so perfect that they could do it with closed eyes and right after awakening at night. Everybody knew his place and tried not to disappoint Peters high expectation. It was some sort of a tale, a light story about a girl trying to escape from her usual role and image in her family and fighting for justice and honesty. There was the part of her contrahent who wasn´t able to accept her wish of independance, but in the end - as usual - he had learned a lot and could accept and love her.

Peter was early, no sign of Anne, they wanted to try their special dance they would perform in the show, Peter had some new ideas concerning the lifting figures and as Anne was practiced they were sure to manage in 1 hour before the others would arrive for the complete going through the programm. "Sorry, I´m late, missed the bus, but let´s start immediatly." They trained concentrated and didn´t noticed that Max arrived, short after the beginning, sitting silent on the bank at the edge of the hall and watching carefully and as concentrated as themselfes. Later the others arrived, too and they stopped their private training and worked altogether.

"Have you seen Max in the girl´s clothes?" "Oh yes, he looks marvellous, perfect, and his motion, really sexy isn´t it?" There was a scene were three of the men has to escape in girls-clothes, Peter hast decided that this would be a good time for a rhythmic fric-froc-dance to animate the audience to clap their hands with the music. The other two boys felt quite uncomfortable but Peter knew that even if they were not perfect in dancing like girls the audience would love it, men in skirts can do what they want it´s a great spectacle and pleasure.

- I like most the dance you perform with Peter at the end of the show
- Well, I´d say you like most Peter, correct?
- Oh, you...
- I´m not blind Max
- But I..., I...
- Shhhh, you needn´t search for an excuse or so, it´s no reason to blush or to be ashamed
- But how do you know? I never said a word to Peter or someone else!
- Your eyes say enough
- To tell you a secret, I often have wished to be a girl so that I could take your part in this dance
- That wouldn´t change anything
- But why, my feelings would be acceptable
- Peter isn´t interested in girls

2008-12-05T02:16:00.001-08:00

Help, help, I shouted within myself but no sound was coming out, it was too ashaming searching help, longing for someone to talk to in this area of studying, learning, trying to become professionals. Shame, head deep down, don´t let someone see into your eyes, looking for something what perhaps nowhere exists.

"Come on, don´t sit in this room, let´s go and have a coffee at `Barn´s', it´s just the right time, isn´t it?" She was surprised, I could see it, she tried to find words to handle the situation, I knew it would be too much for her. "No no nothing else to say, just come with me." Too perplexed to escape she went with me, no question, no comment till we had taken our places and were drinking our coffee. So I was able to look into her inner. It was frightening and painful.

He asked me what´s going on, why I felt like jumping out of the window and definitively made an end. How could he know? Was it written in my eyes? Didn´t I control myself enough so that this thought could slip out? There were so many things I wanted to say, a lot of questions I never was able to discuss with someone but still there was a barrier I wasn´t able to jump over.

"You are surprised?" I´m your teacher since you came to this school, 3 years already, that´s a long time not only to find out about the skills and knowledge of my students but also about personality and character. And to say something privat, you´re in disharmony with yourself." "How can you know that?" It wasn´t only surprise but feeling catched in her voice as if I had found out a crime. "I´ve seen the cuts on your arm, no satisfied person would do a thing like that to herself." "That was at the beginning of the time here. It could have been an accident or from another person." She tried to stay polite and calm, but her voice was trembling of hate and anger. "Yes, yes, only at the beginning you wore summershirts, there were no acute cuts you had to hide."

How did he know about, how was he able to know about her selfhate and her way to punish herself, the only way not to commit suicide when hate and selfdenial overwhelmed her. She always had thought she could manage that nobody would notice but...

"There´s no other person who knows about." "How can you be sure?" "Well, you are playing your role of an interested and hardworking student perfect. There´s no doubt that my collegues only see a friendly girl, perhaps a little timide and quiet but 'normal' as they would say." After this remark she had thrown all barriers and skruples away and talked without hesitation: about selfhate, looking for her way, trying to like what she had to do, her loosed god, her struggle for efficiency, the only way to become accepted, her unability to find friends, her sexual indifference, her only friend who has just madly fallen in love, and everywhere always the role of the listener and watcher for her, always staying outside, having a look on life of others but nothing for herself.

How could he do that, why had I told him all this, feeling relieved but full of shame. He will think I´m a hysterical person which has no idea what real problems are and like a good dramatical performance. Oh, how I hate me, why did I go with him for a coffee?

"Why are you going? Hey, wait a minute, there are no courses in the afternoon, please stay." "Well, I have to go, I´m thankful that you had time for me, but it´s nonsense I´m talking, you´re wasting your freetime, I´m sorry there are much more important things than that." "What´s more important than helping a person to find a way for holding life and herself together? If you like you can come for a coffee whenever you want, you´re welcome." "Thanks a lot."

He is so polite and friendly, sees so clear the problems of others and tries to help, he must be very sensitive and mentally strong, but I´m not sure if he had found his way already. Looking at his vita there are so many different things he had tried and made, just like herself, study this and that, working here and there, doing completely other things for a time, etc. But he always finished what he´d begun, that was the important difference.

Going back to his room he thought about himself in her age, there were many parallels even if she would always just see a teacher in him. A teacher isn´t better than his students only because of his position, he has to struggle for love and friendship like them, for good working results and for finding a sense for his personal life. He also were searching for something what perhaps never exist. Thoughtfully he rubbed over his arm, through the clothes, always correct with shirt, tie and suit, he could feel the cuts.

2008-12-04T00:46:00.000-08:00

He was a composer, his name is not important because nobody knows him, only his variations over a famous children-song in the style of the great composers during the centuries is known and liked, more or less it is quite famous.

Early in his youth he started playing the piano, his father had inherited an old Steinway from his grandfather but never played because he hadn´t the courage, disturbing a Steinway with tinkling - unthinkable! The son wasn´t shy he havn´t a feeling for the heavy importance of the piano, Steinway ment nothing to him so he was free to discover the land of music on himself. The whole family wasn´t educated in music so they couldn´t see the talent their son shows immediatly, bus as usual in such cases, there was a competent uncle...

I´m 20 now and I started studying music with first instrument piano and second clarinet. Since I´m 16 I´ve composed concerts and bigger things like messes and fugas. But nobody is really interested, they hear them, give mostly a very positive feedback and - forget about them immediatly. No publisher wants to print them, no opera- or concertleader thinks about performing them in his institution, it´s ashaming and frustrating. What can I do? What are the reasons for their behavior? Will there be a time sooner or later, where it will all be changed, where I will be known as a famous composer and my music, my ideas and thoughts expressed in it will be plaid everywhere in the world in operahalls, in the radio and all my former friends and comrades will listen and understand?

- Hey, what´s wrong with you?
- oh, nothing
- you´re looking really depressed and gloomy, can I help you?
- no
- come on, we´re friends, aren´t we?
- well o.k., I´m thirty now and noone is interested on my composition
- midlife-crisis? (they both laugh a little)
- perhaps not at all wrong. Others in this age can "proudly present" the results of their life, and I...?
- there are all the fantastic pieces you´ve composed during the years
- which nobody wants to hear
- that´s wrong and you know it
- all right, there are my family, their friends, my friends, who like them when I´m playing them in an intime little circle, but that´s it.
- your music will survive and perhaps later there will be a generation who can understand it better than we all can. It´s not satisfying, I know.
- classical music is so conservatic, there´s no chance of becoming as accepted as the whole glorious "century-composer": Mozart, Beethoven, Strauß, Tschaikowsky, Wagner, Verdi and all the others. There´s no place any more in the music-heaven. And when you´ve plaid them so often and are so familiar with their composingstyle, they are sometimes too ridiculous.
- hey, what´s about showing this exactly the audiance?

The day was there, the musichall was completely full of all sorts of people and they all listened with joy and amusement to his satirical work. He has composed what his friend had offered and he knew it was good work. Most of the audience were regular classic-hearer and familiar with the famous, they reckognized every intended composer he had imitated in his special and ridiculous way immediatly, it was fantastic seing the people listen and after a few notes or tacts smiling, whispering the name to their neighbours. When the last variation was over they crazily applaused standing-ovations and flowers were given to him: the composer who was sensitive enough to feel himself into the manner of nearly every famous composer.

I´ve given them what they liked: the famous composers and their music. I´ve presented them by exaggerating their style so that everyone could laugh about them. But I´ve killed myself, I´m a nothing my own compositions will die as my name and there will be nothing from my work, my thoughts, feelings, ideas and pain, except this imitation, a joke.

Are you disappointed? Are you cynical? Do you think you´ve wasted your life because nothing of yourself will stay? Don´t! If you are able to laugh about the seriousness of the stars, laugh about yourself with the same heartyness, your joke will be immortal and we, the later generations will love you.

2008-12-03T02:54:00.001-08:00

What is it that keeps you away from peace and calm, why do you have to run around, finding no place for yourself at all, is there a chance to get out of this vicious circle?

Paula was afraid, before her she saw 3 weeks of never ending panic and stress, the time of the final exams, a horror for everybody but exspecially for Paula who felt unsecure about her qualities and knowledge and was full of self-critizism and suspiciouty. How could she manage this time, would she be able to go through it?

"Oh, what´s going on here?" "Nothing, I´m just dying" Paula laid on the bottom, arms and legs stretched out, nearly not breathing and 3 of her compagnons sitting on a bench nearby were joking and laughing to forget about the near oral exam. Paula´s "dying-experiment" released them from taking her serious, it was too obvious that she was making fun of them - so they thought, but Paula never was more serious than in this peculiar moment. Normally she would never allow herself to form her inner wish into language and speak from it, but today she knew nobody would ask her in detail what she means with it. The exam was a good excuse for unregular thoughts and crazy actions like her laying on the floor and forming the picture of Jesus on the cruzifix. "That´s all? All right then, but die quiet!"

Still there were over 3 hours to wait, she was nearly the last of her course this day and there was no hope to do something useful in between, because her nerves were shattered as usual, her head were loosing more and more of the information she felt quite certain about the days before and knowing that it would irritate her more than helf she didn´t start looking again into her books and notes. Perhaps it would be good to perform as every day at this hour, so she went to the cafeteria nearby the school and having a cup of tea and a sandwich she tried to recalm herself. Suddenly her heart starts beating like thunder, she felt it everywhere in her body, her head would certainly explode every second and her skin was burning. Is there a little hope for dying immediatly?

Walking home, trying to learn for the next one, not an hour later, panic, running out of her room, into the town again, through the streets, seing nothing at all, feeling only the heavy thoughts in her head turn round and round, to capture one and concentrate is impossible, like a storm of wild information, picture-shots of situations, persons, no structure, no contents, running, thinking, running, running, thinking, thinking, escape, what can I do, what must I do, is there a way out, come on, come on, let´s die and go.

There´s Peter, he has problems with one of the teachers. In a former exam he has failed because he said his personal opinion which the teacher wasn´t able to accept he felt insulted, really an overreaction but what could Peter do? There was no witness, and the official version was that he couldn´t answer correctly - how absurd. Now he had an oral exam with this teacher again, understandably he was full of anxiety and feared that the negativ feelings had grown and he would fail again.

- Hey, what are you smiling? How was it?
- I´ve an A!
- What?
- Yes, imagine an A! I can´t believe it, reckon my last exam with my "favourite" teacher?
- Sure, you´ve failed because of your individual thinking
- Well, I´ve changed, I spoke exactly in his way, exactly his words, the expression and phrases he uses, it was disgusting
- But he must have liked it
- No wonder, everybody likes claqueure more than critizanes
- Don´t think about any more, it´s over and we´ll have him no more, isn´t this great?
- Great? Fantastic, indeed!
- Let´s have a drin, and cheer your A

There are still 2 weeks left, 2 weeks spicked with exams, fear and panic. And the results? Are you proud when you receive your good grades? No, there´s no power to be proud after 3 weeks shattering and getting hysterical more or less daily. But then there´s the party, the big event when you´ve managed, when hell is over. And suddenly strengths came back and you realize: Your are still alife.

2008-12-02T01:03:00.000-08:00

First time I saw her I knew that she was the person seing directly into my inner feelings. It was a view full of power and immediate understanding. I was shocked and afraid but in some way relieved. Everyone I met was in this time a danger, because everyone could throw me out of my position in the firm if he knew what she had captured from one to another moment.

Our teacher looks pleased he likes being nearly into the center of everyone´s attention, he jokes, he laughs and is completely master of the situation as usual. We are visiting a chemical firm with our chemistry course to show us what could perhaps be a later job for us if we´d like to study or made a training in this area. We needn´t come to this excursion today, only the really interested are there because final exams will take place in a couple of days and nearly our whole course is learning. There´s the leader of the laboratory, he explains the structures and processes, the possibilities of working here, he shows us the machines and what happened where, it´s interesting and all of us are absorbed by his intense manner of speaking, his voice is low and not very loud, from time to time it sounds like breaking after a very long speech with cough, he is exactly the opposite of our teacher. I like him as you like an ill person who suffers of the same as yourself, quite familiar, there´s no need of explanation I see, that´s enough, and I know that he knows that I´ve seen and understood. Poor fellow.

What´s that for a chap, quite surprising, he always looks at me with this nearly colourless grey-blue eyes and there´s something inquiring in it I´m not able to describe. I´m a little irritated and somewhat disgusted. I´m sure my wife could explain his manner, perhaps I should ask her this evening she is much more sensitive than I. Silly chap, I hope my girls won´t be attached from him, but capturing their eyes I´m quite sure that our "class-spectator" must have reckogned something.

There´s no doubt about, some really bad event fixes the two together, even if our teacher doesn´t remember because he is the type of man who forget easily and never is deeply touched from events he causes in others. He is a so called "healthy man", strong, loud, without much thoughts about heaven, god, death, love, etc, just ordinary, normal, common. Looking at the other part I know he is burned out to the deepest of his inner feelings, his shame is nearly consistent to me like a picture he has to present to sensitives who can see and imagine his suffering.

There had been a festival in town and nearly everybody was there, wandering around in the pleasent summer-evening together with the beloved person, the whole family or friends, only a handfull perhaps lingering alone through the many attractions. And there was the teacher, together with his wife, his arm negligent around her shoulders and their two little kiddies, a completely happy family having fun and enjoying themselves. And there was the other, in the crowd of extremely positivity, alone with his unsatisfied longing for love and friendship, alone with his beating heart as the family passed and for a moment their eyes met, alone - as usual.

2008-11-08T10:02:00.001-08:00

I´ve made aquitance with a person today, without speaking a word, just looking at him and in return he at me, I never thought it could be so easy to get in contact with a human being. I´ve the experience that it´s normally quite easy making friends with any sort of animals but with men? I´m really surprised.

There´s a new face besides me, who is it, why havn´t I seen her before? Oh, one moment, it´s not true, I knew her, I´ve seen her one and then in course, but only from distance, she never came along to me as all the others in the course did, smiling at me, kidding, I know they all love me, o.k. perhaps I´m a little superstitious and only half of them love me, smile... I´m a womanizer!

Maria and Daimon were very early at university, today Maria had her oral exam and Daimon had come with her - as usual - and would wait for her during her exam, he knew that it won´t last long, because Maria was well-prepared, she had learned day after day and had told him hour after hour everything she knew and it was a lot. Not afraid of the result, he was sure it would be certainly a B but she also could get easily an A. He smiled into the lovely day, it was nearly summer and quite hot, surprisingly for this country sunburning was very intense. In such moments he was completely content with himself and the world and looked with hope and excitement into the future.

Well, she is a serious person, I suspect, there are her sad dark eyes with something in it I´m not able to capture. I´m no friend of many words so I take her hand to make her feel better, oh look, she smiles, how wonderful, what a success, and what serious tenderness is now in her eyes, I know we can become friends if she like, well, I´m sure she like it as much as I do. But look at her hand, her fingers how interesting, how thin but full of power, it´s a lovely game, I´m looking at hers, examining them quite carefully and she, somewhat ashamed or perhaps only uncomfortable because of the heat who makes our hands quite sweaty, trying to escape my examination. Oh, how I love it, I hope the other "examination" in the room in front of our place will last very very very long... and as I always think: friendship needs no great words, only the right feeling.

It´s a miracle, I can´t believe it, what is this, I do not recognize myself. I always have stand at distance, there was no need I thought to come closer, to search contact I would perhaps regret later. There were always so many of our course around him, he is an alpha-personality, no wonder with this charming smile and his initiative way of getting straight forward in contact with one, nearly everyone was struggling to come in closer relationship to him, so why I, too? There was really no necessity - I thought, but now? It´s a miracle and I thank god that I could experienced it, I´ll always remember.

"Thank you for nursing him, it was quite a relieve not to have him with me in the oral exam." Maria took Daimon on her arms and together they went their way home...

2008-10-23T12:18:00.000-07:00

He saw her immediatly, a new face was rare in his job and this one he was sure he never would forget. Not because of its beauty but the expression was intense, in a way he felt anxiety and hate. He wasn´t a person who easily exploded into emotion on the contrary specially hate he never had felt before, so he was irritated that this face had deeply touched him immediatly.

A church, dark, high above some light is falling through the dome, a cruzifix in the middle, showing Jesus in his ordinary pain, common for the whole christianity. Some people are sitting in the rows, young students, few older ones, quiety reigns there are still some more minutes to the beginning of regular sunday morning divine service. A woman rushes in, not looking around. She´s like an animal followed by the hunter, there´s an alarming whistling in her eyes, not because of a special colour just flackering like candles. It´s amazing and he isn´t the only one who notice it.

God, why are you so cruel, what´s the necessity to present her to me, are you god and devil in person? Are you testing my skill to withdraw from danger? She is devil if you are not and I´m attracted not by sex or love but because of the danger and death of rebellion and freedom she seems to personify. "J´ai peur", he whispered and begged his master pardon. "I don´t want to go through this." No excuse: Go! And be brave.

After church she went home, feeling much better and in a way relieved from all the pains that ached her. There were strength in the words of the priest, he was absolutely religious and believed what he was talking about. She felt that it wasn´t an easy way he was going with his god but in fact a way. She could imagine his struggles and fights his thoughts of unbelieve and rebellion, sometimes his trials to run away from the power of an instance he never will be able to understand. But his character is firm and he is strong enough to get through all difficulties. She admired but she saw without doubt that it never could have been her way. She stood aside and the door to enter paradies was closed for her.

Dear Anne,
I´m not strong and firm as you think I am and the imagination to meet you made me shiver, I´m anxious and I know it. I would withdrew your invitation of drinking tea together but even therefore I havn´t enough strength. Being a catholic priest I´m sure you think I´m afraid of your gender in general but that´s not the reason at all. You have a power and nearly don´t know of its existance and I fear that I´m predestinated to wake it up. We should meet nevertheless, perhaps my dark thoughts are wrong. See you sunday after church.
Brian

God, what have you done, is this really you I adored and whorshipped for years? My believes are destroyed not a single word of the bible and of all that is said in religious context seems true and right any more. I´ve lost everything, not only strength and will and character but truth, justice and the believe in live. I´ve lost you, god, and it´s your fault: you sent me Anne you created her as she is and you gave her the power she has. And it was you who let me meet her to wake up her possibilities. Oh god, what have I done, I was only an unnecessary priest totally in your hand and my whole life in your circle of power. And now I´ve fitted together the two big entidies that reigns word: creation and destruction, the cabel was capped but I pasted it: Energy streams intensely. I´m overwhelmed.

Anne looked up and saw directly in god´s eyes. She knew the moment was there for which she had longed. There wasn´t the chance to escape any more and she felt prepared for the gigantic fight that had to take place and in which the universe would burn down completely. It was time to start and to kill definitively the enemy: "I´m death and hate and even you had to obey. Your creation is rubbish you´ve done only pain to your world, I despise you. Why was I thrown out of your heaven, why have you closed my eyes so that I had to live all the centuries without knowing who I am?"

The universe waited for an answer from the only one who it thought was able to give it: Silence.

2008-10-13T12:53:00.000-07:00

"It´s my duty to become a married woman, the only possibility in my circumstances to get the freedom I need" My grand-grandmother was an extraordinary person, she had learned hairmaker and was able to look after herself. She was independent when one only looked at the money she could earn, but the thoughts of all the other persons around her were the most restricted one can imagine. "Look, young Miss R., she thinks she´s something special who needs no man. She´ll fail sooner or later, I beg." Her husband took her because she had a correct hairstring and clean shoes, that he thought were the two and only characteristics that count when one looks for a good wife for the rest of one´s life. I´m sure it wasn´t love what the two fitted together but they managed life and having a fixed position now in human community, wife and soon mother, she was free.

"It was a wonder when I met him, he was so different from me but he could open my eyes for the world´s beauty. I really admired him" These are the words of my grandmother, I often heard her talk of her gigantic but short love. It was the time around the 2nd World War, just before they married and soon after he had to become soldier and she was pregnant. They hadn´t long time together, but their love seems to be a miracle, intensive, with the strength of two hearts who felt that death was hanging in the air. He fell in the "field of honour" when his daughter was nearly 2 years, and it wasn´t quite necessary because he wasn´t dangerous wounded just so that he could soon go home to his family. In some way he felt relieved that his wartime had ended and the thoughts that he might see his little daughter made him happy. But in the night he died suddenly on embolia. Later my grandmother married again to give her child a father it was still easier to be some man´s wife than to live alone with a daughter, but there was no freedom only anxiety and rebellious thoughts of leaving him.

"There was and is still love between us, perhaps it was random that we met and even more random that we married in the end but looking back I see I´m choosed to share life with the person I love for such a long time." My mother´s only wish was to become completely independent from her family. She learned a lot and loved her job who gave her enough to live and to stay alone. She never thought of giving up working and learning just because one meets the man one loves and wishes to live with. He was a student when they first met and for long not able to "found a family" as elder generations might say. They married because they were made for each other but they stayed independent over the years and that fixed them completely together. Liberty had made up an arrangement with her sister called Love and together they were able to create the "perfect couple"

And now it´s my own turn and I have to confess that everything except Liberty had vanished: I don´t mind what the people around me will think of my way of living, I never had a satisfied "firelove" nor a love that grew constantly by time and fitted me completely to one person and I´m sure that´ll never happen. I´m completely free but I sacrified love on the altar of independence. Sometimes I think if it must have come like this, if it was really a succeeding process from generation to generation. In some way we were all longing for a person to share our independence but we differed in the way of making compromises. I want the highest stars and I know I only will get a silver little nothing and that´s it.

2008-10-10T11:47:00.001-07:00

It was a joke when Louis took the blond hair of his niece and draped them over his forehead "look how beautiful, will you give me some of them? It´ll grow again but mine here at the front won´t any more" He smiled, Jane was only 3 1/2, looking seriously at his blank forehead "Why?" "Well, I´m too old, men at a certain age often loose their hair, that´s normal, you mustn´t be sorry about"

Uncle Louis had arrived friday evening to have a nice weekend together with his sister Anne, her husband Paul and their two little children Jane and her older sister Doris. Saturday morning they went shopping and afterwards had a picnic at the little lake nearby the town, the weather was fabulous, it couldn´t have been better Louis thought when he took out all the slices with cheese and ham, the tomatoes, apples, orange-juice and all the neccecities you need for a real successful picnic. He saw the smile in Janes little face when he gave her the apple he had specially rubbed at his pullover to give him a glance of summer and sweetness.

The children loved their uncle, he was so different from their parents, he always liked playing with them, he could tell exciting stories from his adventures, he had been in so many different countries and seen a lot of fantastic things: animals, flowers, buildings, people, it was delightful to listen to him sometimes also fearful, but never boring. What profession he has exactly, they didn´t know, they guessed something with photos, because he always brought a lot of them back from his "adventures"

- what are you grumbling about?
- well you know I don´t really like your "famous" brother
- don´t be sarcastic, he isn´t famous at all, but look how excited Jane and Doris are, they nearly adore him
- they are children, they can´t see his immense faults
- that´s really unfair only because he doesn´t take much care about a solid profession and has no aims to earn a lot of money and make an imposant career you mustn´t say he is something like a black sheep of the familily or a bad influence for the children. He plays with them
- it´s quite normal to be tired after a hard working day, when I had freetime like your "beloved" brother...
- shut up, it´s enough now you´ll never see his qualities but don´t disturb our children the view they have from their uncle

There stood Jane, a serious little human being, and looked up to Louis. With dignity she presented him her light blond hair she had cut off for him.

2008-10-07T06:19:00.001-07:00

"Why havn´t we met in different circumstances?" That always was my thought when I saw Dean, a man in his beginning 30th, handsome and what I heard from others an interesting personality. I had the feeling that normally we could have been really good friends, I found him familiar and often understood his reactions because they were exactly mine.

"Well, come on chap, I´ll bring you home, can you walk?" It was a real bad time for me when I first met him, I couldn´t accept the job I had, the way I lived and even myself I found really disgusting. To be honest I had begun to escape from selfhate and feelings of guilt and shame by drinking, well, not quite a good way, I know. Completely drunk I was able to forget, it was a short but necessary relief. Even if I felt more and more ashamed of myself, it was a vicious-circle I wasn´t able to break out. One night Dean found me sitting on the pavement with eyes not seing what´s going on around, deeply depressed and nearly alcohol-poisened. I must have been in a desolate state because Dean, coming from a party or something like this, a little drunk too, felt responsible to bring me home. It wasn´t more than 200 metres and even to my own surprise I was able to walk, but that killed the possibility to become friends. He has seen me in the most vulnerable state without any selfcontrol and nice fassade. It was my black inner life he had seen, and it was quite normal that he despised it.

What a poor boy, what helplessness, how must he suffer. I look at him and I have the painful feeling to see myself some years ago. The same expression of no hope in his eyes, the same struggling to manage it and exactly the same method to escape. How often I was drunk like that and next morning ashamed. But that´s past, I´ve managed, but I know there´s always the possibility to loose again strength and power, to become a mental cripple and that´s something I never never want to become again. He must help himself, I´m not strong enough and still too labil.

It was several weeks later when we met again, in a little café, I wanted to thank him so I went straight to his table. At first, when he recognized me there was a spontaneous smile, his eyes lightened but immediatly became reserved again. My trial to get in contact with him failed. Other randomly meetings here and there were also painful, because in his presence I always felt like minor dust, his face reminded me at my complete lost of selfcontrol this night at the pavement.

I saw him again and again, I saw pain in his eyes when he tried to come in contact with me and it nearly broke my heart to stay cool and reserved. I know he was quite an interesting person, he had perhaps deep thoughts and ideas. There was something in his quiet behavior which attracted me and at home I often thought it might have been fantastic to become friends. But he retired, no wonder.

For months I didn´t went out. I stayed at home, reading, learning, trying not to think of my problems, all the troubles that bother me. I stopped drinking consequently but I knew it wouldn´t help to get rid of my selfhate and my tendency to escape in the one or the other way. It was a risk to begin going out again but I knew even my strictly staying at home was something like an escape. I wasn´t stronger than before only more anxious. I didn´t want to long for friendship or love any more, it would be hard but I swore myself: no more tries to get in contact with anyone.

And here I am, sitting on a small table, being alone, but this is exactly what I want. On another table at the window sits Dean, we cannot speak together, we are separated forever. There´s only the exchange of a long glance: I know you, I like you, I even feel attracted of you, but please keep the distance.

2008-10-05T01:58:00.001-07:00

"One will be too much I think, take the half it´ll be enough for you." Dan looked to his friend and immediatly understood. "How clever, then we can have the other half, right?" "Exactly." Thomas and Dan were used in taking soft drugs, they often smoked a joint and knew, where they could get them. The Netherlands were a paradise for them and the last weeks they were nearly every evening stoned. Now they stood in Madelaine´s room, their visit from Belgium, and presented her a really big cookie brought from their trip to Amsterdam. The whole week Madelaine had asked for something like that, she was here as guest student for an intensive course and to be honest, it was not as easy as she had exspected. The whole day she had courses and to be prepared for the next day she had to learn additionaly several hours in the evening. It was hard working and so she longed for something really new and exciting to forget all her troubles.

"What? You really have brought me a cookie?" "We couldn´t hear your sufferings any longer", it was Thomas who said it, half sarcastic half smiling, he himself had taken 2 or 3 together with Dan and couldn´t help giggling and feeling flattered in his stomach, it has an immense effect even though he was practised. Madelaine had no experiences at all and therfore he was curious how it would be for her. "You both are great. Thanks a lot." She took the cookie and broke it in two pieces. "And you are sure, that´ll be enough?" "Yes, you are a beginner and weight not much." Madelaine tasted her half, it was delicious, the chocolate, the crossness, sweet like honey. It was much better than smoking a joint. A few days ago she had tried one from Dan but because she was nonsmoker and couldn´t breath in as necessary it had no effect and was really disgusting. She leaned back in her bed, carefully observed from her two friends, joking and having fun with their last half of a cookie. "What do you think will happen, what if she only fell asleep?" Dan couldn´t answer, the laughter was overwhelmingly.

Madelaine, where are you, you have left your friends, this little room, the town, the country, universe is waiting for you. Your senses never were clearer than now, you see, you hear, you smell, you tast and you feel more than you thought were possible. I hesitate to describe what I see, it´s not spectacular and I don´t want to bother you. The world looks highstructured, I see every line in the wooden bed, I see the different colourshades of the white wall, the thousand glances in Dan´s hair, it´s fascinating, surprising, shocking, I´m afraid but not really. Can´t you feel yourself any more, Madelaine? Havn´t you emotions and thoughts? Where are your goals, aimes, hopes and wishes'? I feel as if I have lost myself completely, everything is unimportant what counts is this single moment in time and location. I´m unable to look forward into the future or back to the past. I´ve lost all normal dimensions, I´m gone, flying away without body and head, there´s nothing but this gigantic feeling of... - independence.

"Hey Dan, look at her, see?" "What´s this, I never saw her like that before d´you mean she´s ill?" They both were worrying when they saw Madelaine, stretched out on her bed, not speaking, not giggling, laughing or jokeing like they used to under the drug effect. "Hey Madelaine, you are all right?" Thomas took her by the shoulders and shook her softly. "Sure I am" There was something like a smile in her eyes. "I feel fantastic, really on top" They changed a look, wondering what´s going on, not knowing what to do with her. "Are you sure you are o.k.?" Thomas insisted sceptically "Of course I am, but please leave me alone"

Closing her eyes she went into a different area where she could forget everything and everybody. She, who always controlled herself with military strength and never was able to forget her selfhate and the strong feelings of guilt, shame and responsibility, she had found a way to get out of the net she normally was caught in: I´m a bird see me fly, I´m free, independent at last, delicious cookies how I like them, how easy to fly, how easy to fall into complete dependence...

2008-10-03T11:39:00.000-07:00

And there it was: after I had suffered month of month my feelings of love and adoration were disappeard and I felt the most free in my life.

It was autumn when I first met Angela, a waitress in my café I usually joint in at the end of the day, often emotionally overtired. My job wasn´t easy I practised as a psychologist in an organisation for drug-taker, hard stuff to be honest. Angela was new there, I was very familiar with the waiters because of my regular visits, and she was quiet young, twenty-something. I looked in her eyes and there was this strange glittering which fascinated me immediatly. I wished I had never seen her eyes, her face, pale with dark eyes, not very common. It was the regularity of beauty you know it from greek statues, stone and coolness. I took my special place in the corner of the room and couldn´t stop observing her, her hands taking tea- and coffeecups, cake-plates or else, I knew it was really crazy, it would led straight into hell but you know, who ever paid attention to his inner voice when his heart was burning? I was too old, that would have been not the main problem but I also was too serious for her. Her blank face talked of parties, having fun, lots of friends, kidding and never thinking more than necessary. I knew her well even I had seen her the first time. We never would fit together, I was sure and so I tried to become master over my fireheart.

"Hey, what´s that?" She looked full of surprise when she saw the little bearfigure of porcellain in her hand "Well, just a little present because of the lovely day." I had paid and leaving I gave her the figure. I wasn´t able to look back, to give her just a little smile was impossible, there was this fear to see her laugh or mock at me, I wouldn´t have stand it.

The days went by and I couldn´t go to the café. I felt that I had made a perfect fool, like every lover, I was really ashamed of myself. Christmas day came, I went home to see my brother and his family and tried by hard to forget Angela, but like most of the things you try by hard it never works - so in this special case, too. One day my brother asked if there was something I want to overtalk with him but well, would you have spoken with your brother about such a delicate thing like Angela was for me?

January came, I was back but never went to the café. I was still trying to forget her. Then in an emotionally uncontrolled moment I sent a little parcel with a necklace to the café, I didn´t know her complete name nor her adress. It was two or three days later when I couldn´t help myself and went to the café again, full with fear - and hope. Hope? How absurd thinking of hope! i saw her, yes, she was really there, but because of the many people and therefore a lot to do for her, we just shared a glance at each other.

Again a few weeks, again I stopped my visits at the café, again weeks in fear, hope, love, selfhate, anger and unpatience. I didn´t know what I was exspecting perhaps I praid for a miracle or something like that even I didn´t believe in any gods or goddess and never went to church in my life but the thought that from somewhere maybe heaven or so someone may come and solve all my problems and pain was however pittoresque.

I wake up I look around, something has changed, but what? I´m looking out of the window, I feel strong, somewhat strange but full of energy and really surprised I notice that I feel - free (?!) I had a fantastic day at work, I was really successfull and had managed a lot of the work I wasn´t able to do the last weeks and months to my full satisfaction. Content with myself I decided to go to Angela, I was sure to meet her in the café, and overwhelm her and myself with the strongness of the day and my freedom.

Normally I was totally shy, I never brought the words easily over my lips but to be honest I really had changed. I talked to the waiter I hadn´t seen for several times and who recognized me immediatly, we joked a little and when I saw Angela, I invited her to drink a cup of coffee or tea with me as if this was the most normal thing I was used to do. I was really surprised. She looked as if I had said something really cruel and obscene and her face went to express a sudden distance. I heard her words, not really heard them just guessed that she felt insulted, and when I saw deep into her dark black eyes I realized with a sudden pang: There wasn´t any love in my heart, only this immense energy which filled it completely. I was able to smile at her and I could laugh because of my sudden faux-pas. While enjoying my cup of tea I relieved, I had regained liberty and my eyes were again wide open for the world´s beauty, not my heart.

2008-10-01T03:08:00.000-07:00

Give me a chance

I´ve seen a girl
I looked in her eyes
and hesitated
There was a mixed feeling inside
and I wanted to ask her:

is there a chance
for you and me
is there a place
in the whole eternity
I´m not jokeing never be more serious but now
give me a chance

That´s what I thought
but my mouth was closed
there were no words strong enough
to overwhelm the high walls of anxiety and hate
but my eyes tried to speak:

is there a chance
for you and me
is there a place
in the whole eternity
I´m not jokeing never be more serious but now
give me a chance

I hope there will be a time
where I´m brave enough to speak
where I´ll find words
and give them a door to slip out
and for gods sake you must hear them

is there a chance
for you and me
is there a place
in the whole eternity
I´m not jokeing never be more serious but now
give me a chance

2008-09-30T02:39:00.000-07:00

Nobody expect that flowers grow high up into the sky.
Nobody expect that a dog will run around the world.
Nobody expect that a man will become a hero during his life.
That´s not the problem, but
everyone expect from you to have aims and goals and ideas what to do in your future.
It´s impossible to have no visions no plans no special wishes for your later profession.

I´m asking you: Why?

Give me time to sit in a small café
give me time to lay in the sun
give me time to dream and hear the eternal music
give me freetime from my thoughts

Normally your days are full of work and learning.
Normally you always will have something to do.
Normally everyone will treat you as if you are only here for them.
And normally you never will have time to ask yourself:

Is this all right, is this the life you´ve expected since you were a little child?

Give me time to see the people´s faces
give me time to watch the clouds change
give me time to hope and hear the eternal music
give me freetime from my duties

You will become older, your time will run away,
you certainly will miss friends and beloved,
they´ll die and you will notice what you´ve lost.
Time always goes forward, with long steps, straight over people
without a glance at the poor which have lost their time
without a pity for them whose time is over
always going and going.

So let us stop the stream of daily life
and let us do something special
something we´ve always dreamt of

I´ll take the time to watch the clouds
I´ll take the time to free myself from duties
I´ll take the time to go away finding the eternal music
I´ll take freetime from planning goals I never, never wanted!

And you?

2008-09-25T01:24:00.000-07:00

Later, when I thought back, I always had the feeling that it might had come different and it might had exist a better solution than the one which was choosen from fate, if you believe in things like this. At the beginning there were only 3 persons, closely put together to see what would happen. As human beings they were they immediatly started to get in contact with each other and created relationships. There was Adelaide, nice little woman, very feminine behavior and looking into the world with a strong feeling that there is always something good in a person and a God, who reigns in heaven. And there was Bernhard, very masculine behavior, always the strong wish to produce himself and make impression to the woman-folks, therefore a bit difficult to handle. And the 3rd one was Catherine, nearly the opposite of Adelaide, always wanting to be accepted by her work and rational thoughts and opinion, denying her whole female side.

Now, the reaction started, A was interested in B, B tried to get in contact with C, and C liked A, but immediatly forbid herself for she had had enough troubles with similar trials in former times and didn´t want to become involved again. So we had one person doing nothing (C), one person producing himself as masculine as possible (B) and one just communicating as usual but dreaming and admiring more and more (A). Consequently there was a circle and yet no couple was produced, even all of them wished it in their inner souls and allowed them - more or less - to find out more about the status of the specific person. For example B took a seat next to C and made his arm touch hers or he stood often beside her and contacted her with his body. But that was the only softness he allowed himself, in speech and discussions he behaved very rude and arrogant to her, so that she never found out about his real feelings for her. A on the other side started with little presents and friendly talks, about their working process and as he didn´t had real feelings for her at this time, she was accepted as a sort of "good-fellow" you easily can talk with about everything. A valued that as a sign of sympathy and reaction to her own heart-status and was glad to have success in this affair. She soon called him "friend" when he still was involved in his trials going further with C.

At this point we were very curious to see how this might be going on, and if we would have a couple in the end, still a circle or nothing or some quarrel. We bet, really, even it wasn´t allowed, but what else could we do in our position?

C reacted at the beginning similar to us, she just observed the two, noticing immediatly A´s feelings for B and that B was not sensitive enough even to notice it. It killed her heart to see, that she herself had no place in this constellation, being blind for B´s avances and not able to accept them, anyway. So the only thing she could do was to give B a hint, and when she reached this point of thinking she immediatly did so. There was a terrible quarrel between C and B, some unnecessary subject at work they weren´t able to manage together and nearly at the end, high-emotionly just before leaving the room and smashing the door violently behind her she shouted at him, how blind he must be not noticing A´s love and intimacies she offers to him.

Bang - it was like a hit on his head which suddenly opened a totally new view to the situation. Hearing C´s last words like an echo in his ears, staring at the closed door in front of him, he only stood there unable to catch a sensible thought, seing only A in a glamorous light, splendid and attractive and so unfamiliar he hardly could believe that he knows her. And what did he indeed know from her? He decided to find out immediatly, forgetting quarrel, love and hate and C.

So in the end we had a very clear result of our test-proceeding: Putting 3 people together will made you 1 couple and 1 being left alone. But, as I said, there were other possibilities thinkable, e.g. B and C or even A and C, why in our case it had to be A and B we can neither explain nor imagine - fate perhaps?

2008-09-22T02:48:00.000-07:00

And there she went off, not asking or speaking, not arranging a later meeting or something like this. I am surprised, sitting in my chair and do neither know her name nor why she did this for me.

It was a terrible day, our course went to London, "sightseeing", being in England for 3 weeks certainly implies a tour to the capital, even if it is raining cats and dogs and nobody actually wants to go out, you had to. So we went, guarded by an english expert, showing us all the cathedrals, churches and famous buildings London had to offer. The afternoon was free for shopping and making own plans. If the weather had been better, we would have been interested to see and visit more, but walking in the rain since the early morning everyone only longed for a dry place. I had lost the others in the crowds of men and umbrellas, so I just entered the next café, shattering and feeling cold and really wet through the bones. Near a window I found a free place and ordered a cup of tea. Having warmed up a little I noticed the central heating and grabbed my jacket to hang it over for drying. In this second I banged with the arm on my cup and nearly the whole tea was spread over my trousers, so after cold wetness I was hot wetted now and table, chair and bottom were swimming in tea, too. "It´s really not my day, today" I murmured while going to the waitress for explaining my misfortune, apologizing and ordering a new cup of tea. They were all very friendly and full of pity and gave me towels for rubbing my trousers, but I felt awfully ashamed about it and would have left the café immediatly, but there was the new tea and the thought that I had to stay for not insulting the helpful waitresses. And there was the rain outside, not a nice place there either, so I sat down again, with my wet trousers and tried to be careful with the new cup of tea, coming soon, concentrating on my shaking hands. All my thoughts were gone, inside my head was only gloomy darkness and a depressing mood was growing up.

Sitting there, stareing without seing anything, I shrieked up, when a rough voice asked for the free place at my table. I nodded, totaly confused, and the person, I hadn´t seen her entering the café, took place next to me, starting immediatly reading a book. So I had time to come back to reality and the actual situation and could "inspect" her without harm. It was a lady between 40 and 50 perhaps, expressing strength with her whole body, thin, musceled, not very female, and exspecially her face, lips like a line, long nose and nearly black eyes with a glimpse of sadness and the expression of a strong will which has been proved a lot. She wasn´t a person to get in contact easily and I wasn´t in the mood to search for contact, so we both let silence reign and went on drinking tea, staring without seing, reading. My thoughts went to the course, all the new persons I wasn´t able to get in contact with and from there immediatly to selfhate and wishes of dieing immediatly, because whatever I had tried to become a member of a group of young people, it was failure, again and again, and I always found myself in the role of the outsider who was different from all the others and was regarded suspiciously. There were thoughts about taking sleeping-pills with alcohol, cutting myself with a knife, jumping from a high building, mixed with thoughts of responsibility, life as a present, the sadness of my family, the irreal hope that there might come a change sometimes later, but the desire of being dead and leaving all this life-stuff behind grew nevertheless.

"Another cup of coffee please", the waitress had come and stood besides the table "and well, can I order something for you, too?" I looked up, saw her face, the strength and somewhere the link to her heart, she never would show directly. "Oh, I don´t know, I..." "You´ve just finished your tea, havn´t you?" "Yes, but..." "So what? Another tea then?" "Well, yes, thank you for the invitation" "Invitation! I´m only sitting there, don´t want to go out, as you" and she went on reading again. Tea and coffee arrived, we drank, but there was no chance to break in her circle of roughness and strength. Nevertheless there was something between us now, which helped me to get away from negative thoughts. When she left I saw for a second something white looking out under her jacket: wings?

2008-08-06T02:52:00.000-07:00

The human being is an individual. Alone he comes into the world and alone he dies. He cannot live alone, that´s clear, he comes into a world where many other people already are and had to cope and arrange with. But this doesn´t mean, only to integrate and adapt silently.

Very often we forget, what power and influence exspecially the individual has or could have, if oly he would realize and behave like this. Often it seems as if the social surrounding demands to fit in the actual conditions unquestioningly for example for to keep the job, to be respected and accepted, but often for the price to deny individual abilities and talents or even worse to give up individual thinking and deciding.

Is it sluggishness, that many people let behave like the majority? Is it laziness, because we do not want to think on our own or are afraid of the inconvinient way to say our oppinion and support it? Is it thougthlessness just to behave like before, because we know it, do not want to change, are afraid of something new and unknown and because it works up to now?

Often we excuse ourselfes by referring that it is useless, when I myself behave correctly or change my habits or try something new and all the others behave as before. What use has a single drop of clear water in a cesspool? An unarmed in a gang of robbers? A single pedestrian in a line of cars?

Maybe at the beginning really nothing, but think of SOS children´s village, the Red Cross, Men for Men, started from individuals and now accepted examples for humanity, reciprocal help and sense of responsibility, examples which show that it could work different. If I decide to wish for me a better world and do what I can to make it true, I make my contribution to it, a little step, an important step, independant how long the way there will be.

I don´t want to blame myself, that I did nothing, only because I was afraid of being no longer part of the majority and standing for my convictions.

I don´t want to blame myself, that I recovered resigned, just because the situation seems so hopeless and my contribution so terribly small.

I don´t want to blame myself, that contrary to my convictions I kept silence and didn´t move, just because it seems too tiring and senseless to defend my point of view and work for it.

Do your part and go

So I go, I dont´look back and don´t wait for the others, which still hesitate or havn´t the courage or couldn´t be decided. I can only convince when I myself go, independent of the fact if someone follows or not. And I garanty, with it I will convience. And when I only cause that one individual starts thinking, it will progress.

2008-04-27T07:48:00.001-07:00

to be free

I long for it
I´m dreaming from
the more I´m stringed
the more I imagine it

where´s freedom
where´s independance
are there only words
are they for me, too?

stop talking about it
stop the lighting descriptions
there´s nothing but ashes
and noone will return without going

I go, yes, it´s right, I go
looking, listening, hoping
concentrating my powers
I´ll free myself and be born again

flowers falling down
birds can´t fly any more
I failed, I´m broken
strings like snakes coming
and tie up my hands, my feet
and I´m sinking in dependance
and despair

2008-04-18T01:47:00.000-07:00

creativity

there´s a point of no return
a sudden impulse
a sudden heat
and you have to run

a thought as small as a bug
an idea as fast as wind
catch it
hold it

write it down
draw it on paper, walls or floor
set it in floods of music
put it in stone, steel, clay

it´s not me writing
not my own thoughts
inspiration comes from elsewhere
electrifying like a lightning
and thunder following immediatly

give up your dreams and hopes
give up vanity and pride
you´re nothing but a slave
who had to write, paint, compose, create
for an invisible chaos
which at last will devour you

2008-04-09T11:17:00.000-07:00

friendship

give me your hand
say hello
and stay

I can laugh with you
I can talk without thinking
no borderline

you know me
we are welded together
our bodies are from glass
and never we have secrets

come on let´s fly away
let´s go and find our paradies
and help me to survive

suddenly there´s strangeness
I can´t hear you
and I could cry
don´t go away, don´t

I see you vanish
love was stronger
I´m only a friend

friendship I adore you
how I hate you, how I need you
how dependent you make me

2008-04-06T06:56:00.000-07:00

hate

what´s hate, I´ve heard you ask
I never have hated, you told
I was furious sometimes
but hate? No I don´t know what it means

lucky person
be happy not to know
the stringing around your head
no thought´s able to calm down
no brain can stop the eruption

it´s not the fly into a fury
nor the grumbling of anger
it´s a dangerous weapon
a finger of ice
killing at first myself

you rape me and control
you give the orders without question
and I had to obey
and I see myself breaking to pieces

following your demands
world, friends and love
falling in blackened death
killed from my hate

2008-03-22T03:45:00.000-07:00

Fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity

I don´t know where I discovered this aphorism, but it seems to be quite to the point. For me it´s a mystery how you can suppose, that with violence you can create peace. Violence and war and terrorism must not be legal means in our days. And peace is too valuable to be destroyed from "the upper 10.000".

That´s why I´ll try to create peace from bottom-up. I want to build an alliance, without any big idealistic background, without needing the same values and views, just on the basis, I don´t want to kill.

Based on idealistic values any government tries to make us believe, I should go into a country I don´t know, kill people who never did me any bad personally and in all probability die without developing my real skills and talents?

Based on idealistic values, religious leaders, my surrounding, my family tries to make me believe, I should defend my country, which cannot give me work, security, future, explode myself and kill people I don´t know and die with this tiny little hope to land in paradies although I perhaps liked much more to have a little paradies here?

Based on idealistic values I grew up with, I should exactly know what´s right and what´s wrong, who´s good and who´s evil, what I have to do and what I mustn´t do and to defend this values with methods which are in very different systems of ideas and views equally bad and disgusting except when they are against the "enemy".

I needn´t "love" my fellow men, we needn´t be friends, maybe I hate them, but I needn´t attack and kill them. If only this little common denominator could be accepted by everyone, we would be a really big step forward.

For us imperfect people it´s more than we could handle to love our fellow and to hold the other cheek out to him. And overtax makes us furious. And in our rage and disappointment that we are not so perfect and nobel-minded we wanted to be we rage blindly around like a little defiant child who felt driven into a corner. We have to come out of this emotionally trap.

Guns down hands up

Let us see our helplessness and show it in an understanding gesture. Let´s go of, let´s free us from the dictation of apparent strength. Let us lead from this single and categorial wish I don´t want to kill and let´s form an alliance of peace across the borders and beyond all ideological ideas and views.

2008-03-14T03:41:00.000-07:00

love

love´s a ship
saves the uniquates from sea
giving them a place to breath
food they havn´t tasted before
a drink from paradise
sleep of embraced bodies

we find together at the boat
we share our loneliness
we struggle for a future we never want
we hope
maybe we dream
and the white flocks called illusion
always between us

the canoe leaks
the paddle broken
which way, we don´t know
the water´s coming
separating the bodies

I feel the coldness
our hands still together, not accepting
poor canoe, broken
no longer an island
far far away I see you
fighting with the waters - like myself

2008-03-13T12:24:00.000-07:00

love banishs

dark thoughts shine
heavy worries fly
lifes´burden´s gone

my head bursts
my heart opens
my soul relaxes

with you I breath
with you hell´s invisible
let´s magic the world
and I see you come
and smile

2008-03-09T09:07:00.000-07:00

world changed

heat of the rain
flowers explode
dogs smile
trees burn

kiss of the sun
houses dance
tables sing
cars fly

I´m running
I´m jumping
we´re laughing

I´m living
I´m dying
together with you

2008-03-08T08:01:00.000-08:00

together

walking home
speaking about work
discussing problems
bodies together

similar ideas
similar intellect
similar argueing-power
minds together

hearing your breath
the same heartbeat
blushing faces
souls together

you and I
together

2008-03-07T03:16:00.000-08:00

emptyness

how can I tell you the pain
how can I describe
what it means
to see you drifting off

can I tell you
can I explain
why it means pain for me
that you are going away

I tell you
I try to explain
that your falling in love again
makes the distance unbridgeable
and my smile froze

2008-03-03T02:33:00.000-08:00

And there it was again: this strong and overwhelming power, coming from nowhere and taking her nobody will know to which areas of live.

She was young, under 20, just had started studying literature when it began: She was visiting Germany for 2 weeks, beginning with Frankfurt, the city where her grandparents were still living, going on to Marburg, where her german penpale studied literature like her. Anne took her to university and she went to courses with her. There was the need to speak german and although she had learned it nearly 5 years she had difficulties to express exactly what was in her mind. She had no problems in understanding and following the conversation but asked to discuss with them she felt helpless like a little child, looking for the right words and even if she found out she couldn´t be satisfied because the others had to be very patient to follow her word-for-word and sentence-pause-sentence expression and she was worrying if they were bored of her. Anne told her they weren´t but how could she be sure?

- Hey Susan, your german is much more better than it was at the beginning of your stay here, I´m surprised how fast you´ve learned
- oh no Anne, you´re just kidding, aren´t you?
- no no, I´m totaly serious. Haven´t you this feeling by yourself?
- well yes, I started dreaming in german (they both laugh) and there was no other possibility to communicate
- oh, that´s really unfair, there were a lot of students who started conversation with you in english, it was you who switched immediatly to german explaining that you wish to practice and train your german skills
- o.k. you´re right, but now I´m a little afraid of going back to England and only hearing and speaking english. There is the wish to go on with german, for example by reading german books or newspapers, hearing german radio, but I´m not sure if I´ll manage it
- I´m sure you will, you´ve surprised all my friends with being so strict in staying in german even if you had difficulties finding a special word or expression, it would have been the easierst way to express it in english and see if the others may understand you
- well, it´s different, because here I´m in a german surrounding, everybody speaks german, all is written in german, english is very rare and I myself speaks german all the time, my thoughts are inficized with the german language and I´ve difficulties to switch to english when telephoning with my grandparents or writing cards to english friends and my family
- then you can train by writing very long and interesting german letters to me? (they smile)
- oh yes, of course I´ll write, perhaps my only chance?

At first she hadn´t noticed the change, she went back to England, speaking english, but reading more and more german books and newspapers and writing german for herself in her diary. It was like a drug for her, she needed this foreign language to escape from her life, from the situation she found herself in which she felt was more and more terryfying for her. Yes, she liked literature, she liked reading, she always had read a lot of books since she had learned reading at school, it was a separate world for her and she often went in when reality was bad and discomforting. But now she had to analyse the structure of books, the arrangements the author had made and find an explanation why he had done it like this why he had wrote it as he has and not different. It was awfully annoying she hated it and saw no sense in it. She hated the attitude of her teachers to explain things they were not able to explain at all and pretending that they have eaten knowledge with big spoons. It was this what let she think that her decicion to study literature might be wrong. The wish of doing something totally different grew in her but there was no idea what would have pleased her more than books and reading and escaping in other worlds created by the phantasie of an author who was perhaps in a similar position as herself and tried to find out alternatives by writing stories. In this big confusion about her studies came this german aspect, the feeling of being a totally different person by switching to speak and think german.

Dear Anne,
have you ever heard about a person, who changed completely into another person when speaking in different languages? I just have the feeling that there is a strong power which led me I myself am only the medium or the "bottle". There is an english Susan and a german Susan, and it split myself completely. The last few weeks I stayd personally in german, thinking and speaking to myself german, when, at the same time, the english Susan acted and reacted in reality and spoke english as she had to. I could see and hear her but there was no contact between my german self and this english-speaking body. I hate my language I´ve spoken in this vocabulary-pott all my life and I´m fond of it. Speaking german I feel new and fresh, the language is still able to surprise me, for example by hearing a single unknown word, its sound, trying to catch the meaning of it, trying to find out how it is used, the different meanings depending on the context, how you pronounce it and to whom you speak. I love this uncertainty, like developing a new country, a city you´ve never seen before and becoming more and more familiar by practising it. I´m just in the stadium of a child who learned how to speak, every day it hears new words and had to find out meaning, use and context meaning. Have you similar feelings and thoughts with english perhaps? I would be glad to hear from you soon, you are at the moment the only anchor to native german I have. so please don´t let me alone in my confusion and splittering.

- You remember Susan, the english girl I took to university last summer?
- sure I do, she consequently spoke german and there was no chance to practise my english (he laughs)
- well, I think she take german to escape from herself
- what do you mean?
- I mean she has the hope to become another person by speaking another language
- how funny
- no, not funny but tragic, imagine yourself searching for a better reality in a foreign language
- a better world?
- she tried to explain it I´m not quite sure if I understood her right, but for her german is something like a costume which changed her personality completely
- for me learning and speaking a foreign language is just functual for being able to communicate with other people, I´m not changing or being different
- I know, but how can we help her to accept herself and accept her language?
- perhaps she should live here for a while and experience her "german I", to find out if it is really better or more interesting than her english one. she could study here for a semester or two.
- good idea, I´ll write her soon

I´m loosing myself more and more. I´m here now for nearly a year, speaking and hearing and thinking german all the time. The power is strong and I´ve nothing to defend myself against it. There´s only a tiny little english Susan but the german Susan is only a little bit bigger and still tiny like a child. At university they say that my german skill is really surprisingly good but what does this mean? I´m a foreigner and everything I would say in german will surprise because english speaking persons they don´t exspect even the will to speak the language of the country. I can express myself quite well, I can discuss and argue in the courses and make clear my point of view. Perhaps I still need more time to find a word sometimes but in general I´m nearly equal to the other students. I feel respected with my ideas and opinions and accepted personally. I´ve friends to talk with and friends to have a lot of fun on parties or week-end-activities. But I´m not satisfied at all, there´s something which frightened me a power I can´t describe or even find words for it, neither in english nor in german.

Doctor Burton looked up when he saw Susan running along the aisle, again and again, bewildered face, arms high in the air, not speaking, just trying to shout out something but having no words as it seems. He had tried to get in contact with her, again and again. Hearing that she had language troubles which disturbed herself he tried it in english, french, german, even collected his few spanish-skills but never reached her. There were some trials, he could see how hard she fought against the power in herself who wouldn´t let her speak, she smashed her head against the doors and walls, she ran, she injured herself for making an entrance where people from outside may come in, but she hadn´t words any more. There was no reason why but Dr. Burton was sure that she would be born sooner or later in another language, they just had to wait and give her the time she would need. Her soul had to find a language that suits her perfectly and if she wouldn´t find one he was sure she would create one, perhaps the language of freedom, hope and love, a language to change the whole world.

2008-02-19T03:12:00.000-08:00

I´ve to bite my lips
instead of kissing
I´ve to embrace myself
instead of you
I´ve to hold a stone
instead of your hand
I see in the mirror
not in your eyes
I lean against the window
not at your shoulder
I play with the leaves of a plant
not with your hair

2008-02-16T02:50:00.000-08:00

mum says
do what I never could do
dad says
become my successful daughter
the pope says
be good
the society says
be useful

friends say
money is important
marriage and children
getting to the top

and I hear
nearly overwhelmed
a whisper:
be yourself

2008-02-10T01:37:00.000-08:00

speechless

without a word
I go
without explanation
you go
without understanding
separated
a flood of words
unspoken
in your eyes
a glimmer of it
but no way through your mouth
a wall my own mouth
still strong enough
not to break

2008-02-06T01:16:00.000-08:00

He was really irritated when he came home from his spanish course but wasn´t able to see why. His wife knew this pretty soon, just looking at him with her "everything-noticed-view" and asked him. As usual he had no words and only shrunked shoulders. "Something has changed", he thought with an unfamiliar flattering in his stomach, he felt like giggling and blushing like he did when he was a teenager. "Surprising myself in this age".

He was a very tall and sensible man, quiet but accepted by collegues because of knowledge and emotionless working to a pont by friends and relatives because of his calmness and listening skills. Married for nearly 30 years and having three grown-up daughters who worked and studied successfully he thought he could really be content with his life at all. In this age, so his opinion, life is very calm and unspectaculous, not exciting and always spicked with new experiences like as a young and growing up boy, not full of wishes and hopes like between his 20th and 30th and not longer full of hard working like the last 10, 12 years longing for acceptance and success. He was in a stadium where human beings start looking back and valueing what their life was and what they have done in nearly 60 years on earth.

His thoughts went back to the course. There was this young man, Parker, perhaps in the age of his eldest daughter, he was sure not older, he knew him from the spanish-courses before, his wife had started with him but had given up after the 2nd because at this time, till now, her job was too hard and stressing to concentrate on a new subject and learning seriously. He went on liking this evening where he could switch to something completely different to his daily work and seeing how it would go on noticing that it went better and easier the more he learned and practiced. And there was Parker, sitting together with some other girls and boys in his age, laughing and being very extroverted and, well there was no word for this in his mind, "special". He stopped thinking and snapped to the newspaper hoping to find some relaxing of his irritated feelings.

- Hey, do you know what´s going on with Parker?
- I´ve no idea, just starting worrying like you
- was he at the café the last week?
- not very often
- I´ve seen him yesterday evening at the station, just standing there, looking so sad and depressed
- perhaps waiting for someone who were late or didn´t come. Being together with others he seems quite normal, screaming and shouting and laughing as usual or... even more than usual
- that´s why I´m worrying
- perhaps he is involved in an unhappy love
- well, normally he would have told us, he isn´t as secret and shy as now. I´m sure he would have told us
- have you seen him with a lover?
- not for months
- how unhealthy (they both laugh)

There was a party in the café about the topic "the Netherlands". All the waiters were wearing dutch shoes and blue-white-striped skirts and the white maiden-cap, a typical stereotype about the dutch. There were plates with little cheese-pieces, tomatoes and the whole room was decorated with tulips and little mules and many flags of course. On the small side, seen from every table was a stage where the programm would start in a few minutes. All the guys were very excited and exhausted, laughing all the time, hugging each other and pretending being charming dutch ladies, it was a game, as usual, but, also as usual, with a little essence of seriousness in it, knowing that they were - for others - mad, weared or even worse "not normal". This evening they just forgot about all the troubles they had in daily life, longing for acceptance, and celebrated themselfes. Dutch poems were declared emotionally rough sea-songs about captains and affairs in many harbours were shouted with enthusiasm, pretending to be strong and wild men with their cute girl admiring the man from far away. Tonight they felt quite comfortable with playing roles and act like on stage because they were together, knowing about the pretendings they had to use, they were all similar in a way and all very different, everybody a personality formed from life and fate.

Very late or better very early the next morning a group of about 5 were sitting together, tired but not tired enough to go home for sleeping. They were smoking and drinking coffee, for staying awake, and just gossiping a little about the evening, the people, the events and happenings. They all were touched from the tulipdance Parker showed nearly at the end of the programm. "He is a really excellent dancer, I love him", a very young boy said, expressing with very simple words what most of them thought. "There was a flavour of freedom and hope in his motions, I was surprised of his positive charisma after the last weeks" "and dreams, I had the feeling as if he wanted to show us his dreams even if they never will come true." "What do you know?" There was a shiver of sharpness in this short question, asked by the last lover of Parker, a man at the beginning of his 20th, still not accepting the end of their relationship. "Nothing, but havn´t you seen the photographer coming with him?" "By the way who was it?" "I don´t know, havn´t seen him before." "Noone has", an older man added "I´m sure he is Parker´s new problem, or dream as you said", smiling at the young boy´s face, who started this discussion. "So he is Parker´s new lover?" The sharpness grew to aggressivity. "Calm down young man, nobody knows exactly, we are just wondering and guessing that´s all." "He could have been his father!" The young man blushed as he saw the amused faces of the others. "Still the heart full of Parker, right? Well, I know it´s hard to loose a friend like Parker, but you must accept, he is an artist, just flying over the earth, his head full of dreams and ideals, if you know what I mean?" There was a silence, because all of them had experiences with loosing love. "But you´ve had a chance, Parker now won´t." It was again the boy, so sensitive that he had felt Parker´s dreams in his dance. "I mean, look at this photographer, I´m sure he is married and has family. He´ll never break out for Parker, even if he might have similar feelings for him." "Are you sure?" There it was the little hope all the guys knew, when they themself were just falling in love to a "normal" man, the hope that you can change him just by loving him as much as possible, that you can awake something in him, so that he might be able to face his "real" feelings - for you, no question...

- Is dad ill?
- no, why?
- well, havn´t you seen him yesterday?
- no
- he was coming from this party where he had to take pictures and was just sitting in his chair, doing nothing
- and?
- not reading the papers or sorting photos
- it was late, I guess?
- half past one
- so what
- why didn´t he went to bed or talked a little with me, I was just arrived some minutes ago and really surprised to see him
- but you knew that party-thing?
- yes, but he was looking so absent and thoughtful
- did you ask him?
- I tried but he pretended to be tired
- he was perhaps, photographing at a party is really hard work
- yes, I know, crowds ofpeople, chaos, motions and this with his will of perfectness, but why he didn´t went to bed?
- hm, no idea
- I wake up again at nearly four and there was still light in the living room. Going to the kitchen for something to drink I had a quick look and he was sitting there in the same position as I left him two hours ago
- we should have an eye on him

Parker was strolling around, no direction or goal, just crossing the streets, walking here and there, not noticing what´s going on around him. He felt awfully hurt and ill, his admired photographer wasn´t at the spanish-course the last weeks, exactly after the party the contact broke off, only the pictures he sent him with no comment. He tried to telephone him but unsuccessfully, always his wife or one of the daughters picked up, saying that he was gone to a workshop somewhere in the south for 2 weeks or so. He didn´t believe it. Wandering around he felt totaly uncertain what to do now and how to react to this rude behavior. He tried to clear up his feelings, yes, he was very attracted from him, his calmness, his being like a stone in the curly water, his seriousness, he stands for all he never was able to be, the direct opposite of himself. He was the type of a gay man everybody expected after the first glance, his feminine motions, the way he talks and walks, his extravagancy in clothes, his extroverted laughing and being some kind of exaggerate, people would call him "special" or "different" to be polite and would mean "gay". He had choosen a profession where it was familiar to be "special", dancers are a separate community, not easy to live in because of all the strong individuals, often excentric and full of narcism, but a helpful hand when you think being alone with all this complicated love-feeling-problems. There were so many nice and friendly and excellent dancers in the café, remembering his last love, but why this photographer, why a man with wife and children, nearly double-aged. Was it love? Or perhaps something else he couldn´t see at the moment?

Having reached the end of the city where the woods begin filled with all these depressing thoughts he looked up and couldn´t believe his eyes: There he was, sitting on a bench straight in front of him, staring into the air not noticing him yet, doomy and alone - like himself. With caution he went to the bench "I don´t want to disturb you, Mr. ..." "Parker!" He looked up and his face enlightened immediatly but when their eyes met he suddenly knew and a mixture of feelings fell over him: love, hate, shame, luck, power, freedom, understanding, rebellion, peace, anger and passion. No words were necessary any more, they were together and Parkers only thought was: "Fuck the future!"

2008-01-30T11:02:00.000-08:00

there´s a tickling
a thing I don´t know
there it is
deep inside
like waves
like flood
like wind, becoming storm
it´s coming up
it´s going down
it whirls
around, around
encircling, surrounding
trying to embrace
you

2008-01-22T11:57:00.000-08:00

I still fight

go away dark thought
go away
let me breath dark bird
let me breath

give me peace oh lord
give me peace

let me live dark soul
let me live
go away dark self
go away

I will fight
I will

2008-01-20T06:42:00.001-08:00

my inner brods
I don´t show it
I´m desperate to death
I don´t show it
I´m nearly killed
I don´t show it

I could scream
I don´t
I could hit out
I don´t
I could explode
I don´t

I live?
I don´t
I love?
I don´t
love me
don´t

2008-01-15T03:17:00.000-08:00

madness

lying on my back
looking into the trees
feeling myself as if I´m someone else

going through the streets
hearing music and whispering voices
an atmosphere of permanent alarm
and in the faces of all the others
smiles and laughter, confusing
and no sign that they notice, too

is it a dream, a nightmare
is it real and what does it mean
spinning around the thoughts
the questions never ending
and I´d like to shout "why?"
and I´d like to fight and hurt

terror reigns
everything hurts and I´m burning
the black conqueror is coming
I see his servants, hear his footsteps
his infernal laughter

firebird where are you
I had to become a firebird
and burning down I awake
in hells of madness

2008-01-13T06:40:00.000-08:00

sadness

in the happierst moment
in the flood of sunlight
while seing you
sadness grows

in paradies
in your arms
while kissing you
sadness jumps

and overwhelmed
sinking in darkness
I try to shout
help me

2008-01-11T12:00:00.000-08:00

sometimes it´s only a shadow
which turns a man´s face into a woman´s
sometimes it´s only a word
which switchs the meaning from good to bad

I´m not sure but I can´t deny
that the borderline is nearly invisible
and sometimes you just passed it
without noticing

and a man´s face is a woman´s
and a good meaning is a bad
and in your face the confusion
is glimmering between anger and adoration