memories.

Thousand pieces of silver and gold
I have lost along the way,
while the diamonds lost their fire
and turned to coals.
I am left with all I ever had
And all I ever was

Posted: May 12th, 2010
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in light of the occasion

Posted: February 14th, 2010
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convolution of the brain II…

He wasn’t dead. Not at all… although this came to him rather surprisingly and quite unexpected, as he had already accepted the fact of him being dead, he wasn’t. It is an astonishing fact that people being transformed into a pachyderm of atypical color and subsequently being smashed against a hard object by walls of a room that is bending itself around the sound waves of a sentence is not fatal at all. Quite contrary, it is rather stimulating, vitalizing and in some way refreshing. Especially the part of the experience in which one realizes the very fact of being alive.

So there he was, all well and all alive and all up to do good things and heal the world and save the poor and feed the fed and starve the parched and so on and so on… only, he didn’t quite know how to start. It was the initial spark of inspiration he was lacking of. There he sat. On his couch made of steel mantled feathers of south-east-arabic penguins (one of the rarest breeds of penguins) and was contemplating, considering, consolidating and consuming theories on what went wrong with society, nature, religion, mankind. Only to find out… nothing. everything is fine. In the end, it’s all just a matter of perspective. Everything is good an well if you just regard it from the correct angle and especially from the correct distance. As for example, looking at the earth from the moon, is a great angle and an even greater distance. well sure, you could go into detail and zoom in a little but this would not be very efficient… we all know, a great philosopher always needs to see and understand the great and whole picture. Therefore it is not only favorable to be viewing the earthly problems from such a distance, no it is a constitutional necessity. So he thought, and so he started to believe and so he came to be sure that the worlds problems did not need any fixing and that all will be well and that he will not be in any kind of obligation, liability, duty or responsibility nor that it is any of his business at all to save the world.

And he was happy to figure this out. He immediately felt better, felt well, felt great and then felt useless, worthless and inconsequential and insignificant… At this point, his brain, fed up with all this logic deviations decided to leave for a long holiday, maybe somewhere close to the ocean, maybe at the beach in ko tao or some place like this. So it took a small hammer and crushed a hole into the back of his head, took it’s bags and left. Then he died.

The end.

So far so good… thanks for reading. just wanted to let you know, comments are highly appreciated… would love to get some feedback (and no, i’m not fishin’ for compliments.. I want some serious feedback…)

thx

Posted: January 29th, 2010
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convolution of the brain…

He felt like a little green triangle, whose exterior angles, for one reason or another, just didn’t sum up to 360°, or, to be more precise, he would have felt like a little green triangle whose exterior angles, for one reason or another, just didn’t sum up to 360° if he would have know how such a green triangle would feel. Yet, due to the fact that he didn’t even have the slightest idea about how geometrical shapes feel if the disobey their mathematical laws he just uttered

I feel like shit… (which, by the way is amazingly close to how said triangle would be feeling if it’s exterior angles weren’t summing up to 360°.)

And just at the very moment the sound of the consonant “d” left his mouth and was fully pronounced, the walls of the room started bending around his rather vague expression concerning his emotional state that was still floating through the air as a sound wave, camouflaged as a furry ball of vaporized metal but still detected by the walls dis tonality and empathy senors, and as a logical result, these walls were trying to capture teh statement itself and shape it into a new and more appropriate statement as for example

I feel like a page of Friedrich Nietzsche’s collected works torn out of my book by some despicable creature and used as a handkerchief by this very same uncivilized and ignorant creature…

Unfortunately the walls of the room tried to conduct this very complicated and complex procedure while the speaker himself was still present and therefore by bending around him and twisting and pulling into various dimensions at different levels of time but still quite synchronous, they first transformed him into a pink elephant with a yellow tail and then smashed him against the wall. There he died.

The end

Posted: January 27th, 2010
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tea time

time
tears tides of tears
apart

tacking
thunders trembling terror
in your heart

tame
time by telling tales
of art

as you protect your diamonds shard…

Posted: December 28th, 2009
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present

dance, to the melody of your thoughts,

let the beat of your heart carry you away.

take a deep breath, let go, be free

jump,

and fly…

let your smile carry you through hard times,
let your friends sweep your sorrows away,
let tears be the prove that there is true happiness,
let a song be your guide through the adventure

have fun!

Posted: December 16th, 2009
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sorry for being late

sorry,
i just went out to get something, but then i found out, I didn’t know what it was I was searching.
I was going through my pockets and I found so many happy moments, crumpled and wrinkled. All of them were good and yet they didn’t last, they didn’t stick. Everything vanishes. Everything turns gray. I had a black sweater once i really liked.
Maybe this is just the way it has to be, but then, I look around and i see a smile, i see a sparkle in the eyes, laughter, freckles and locks
and a reflection of trillions of colors in a raindrop

I feel as i am scratching on the surface of a frozen lake. trying to catch a glimpse of what is buried underneath… And all i see is gray.
I know that someone’s on the other side,
i know her face, i know her well.
just cannot go just can not tell
her that she’ll never be my bride

all these days and all these nights,
we’re all just holding on to what we have
we all just wish that we could hear her laugh
but, teardrops capture our lights

[ratings]

Posted: November 25th, 2009
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fear

the shadow was standing next to him, his name was fear, and with him were his brothers, pain, anger and desperation.
They were standing next to the bed on which lay what once was a man but now was not more than a carcass, not yet rotting, but with the last spark of live dying down steadily. The illness has carved out the body from the inside, with a blunt tool of furious torture, leaving a tired heart, pumping acid blood through burning veins, wrapped in bruised and wrinkled skin.
And as the moment feared and yearned for was approaching, he asked the shadow to come closer, to embrace him in his final instance, he pulled him closer, as his body started shivering and shaking, as the endmost riot of tormenting excruciating dolor slashed down on him, his bony finger grabbing the cold and bleak blanket of darkness, begging for comfort begging for warmth, for a last touch of someone, a last kiss, a last glimpse of compassion, a last feeling of a tear shed in grief for him falling on his face.

the dry, fragile flesh of his lips opened to let pass what was meant to be a fatal cry. Yet all that could be heard was a croaking moan, shallow and weak.

the body sank into the blankets, letting out the last fluids that were held captive, a cacophony of alarms started and was soon stopped by a medic, noting the time of death on a sheet of paper and calling the nurses for clean up. and soon this bed will be the cradle of someone else, only the shadows remain..

[ratings]

Posted: November 10th, 2009
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hollow.

I touch my skin, from deep inside of me,
And I can feel realty, waiting like a beast of prey
For I am lonely and astray,
In a desert without water, cause for my soul I cannot barter…
But after fractions of eternity, I ask myself
How can it be?
What kind of beast are we?

All I feel is rage and hate, as I am chasing for my bloody bait,
and yet, all this,
is just some wicked fate, for which by far,
I was too late..

Too late to love, too late to die,
Too late to hope, too late to cry…

[ratings]

Posted: November 3rd, 2009
Categories: txt.
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thx.

thank you

for inspiration and criticism…

the masses define themselves by indifference…
yet
some diamond shines
and
Sparkles

cuts the glass and opens…

my window to a whole new world…

as if thru your eyes, wonders just began to shape and seas and oceans drown this grey and lonely cage,

and I for once am honored
and humble
to be nothing more than a spectator

applauding to your grace

[ratings]

Posted: October 27th, 2009
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what’s new III.

ok so… I’m a little tired today, I had some long and complicated talks so let’s try to keep this short shall we?!

so let’s get right down and do this little beauty… so… as for starters, let’s just try to imagine something… imagine a country, a nation claiming to be the one, the glorious one, that represents freedom, democracy, a modern society and all the rest of this crap… and than just imagine, this nation going to war with other states in order to free them from their regimes of terror and hate, risking the lives of their own, perfectly equipped soldiers in combat against enemies who’s most powerfull weapon is to blow themselves up in order to take down some of these soldiers with them.. now the president of this great nation was just recently awarded with the nobel peace price for the engagement he will prove in solving conflicts or something like this… and now imagine, in this country, this modern society, amongst these leading, developed, creative and simply amazing people, 52 kids were just freed from child prostitution… held as sex slaves by pimps for some sick crazy bastard that had the money to pay for the luxury of fucking a kid… well isn’t this a great country… hail to freedom… fuck this society…

but then again, i guess there isn’t a place in this world where things would go in a different way… take cuba just for example… in this wonderful state a dictator can’t even trust his own sister… she sells out her family, her brother, a man who fought for an idea, a system that was supposed to do people good (we all know it didn’t quite work out the way he wanted, yet at least he fought for something and tried to change things) and she does this just because she’s a whore… not because she understood anything of the things her own brother risked his life for, not because she wanted to help anybody, no way jose… the only reason for this was simply because she wanted to get paid, so she bent over and took it like a whore, got engaged as a CIA spy and ratted out her own brother Fidel to the CIA… and to finish things up, she now published a book about her live with fidel and raul… just to make some more money… well what a system… nice isn’t it…

On the other hand, what would you expect from humans? two arrogant sons of mothers who happend to be lucky enough to pass a pilots test, were entrusted with the lives of 150 people and instead of worrying about that, they just sat on their asses and took a nap, had a discussion or did whatever else you could imagine would keep you away from any connection for an hour or so…

And then… there’s more…. there is this one nation, which was ill treated, haunted and tortured during WW2 and after this inhuman period of suffering finally now have received their own country, which they defend… but then again… they do not accept the UN, the institution that has decided help create israel, to investigate on the last war this small, little, young and heavily US supported nation has lead… now for sure, Israel did not do anything bad to anybody else… and for sure bombings of civil buildings if done by israelis is justified… it’s all just the fault of the germans… fuck these nasty old germans…

well whatever… good news is… nah today… no good news, just two more amazing videos…

So long

[ratings]

Posted: October 27th, 2009
Categories: aim.
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what’s new II.

So here we are… it’s monday again, and the day’s just been a pain in the derrière…

but what happened since we last met? The world kept spinning, that’s for sure, yet will it keep on doing so?

I’m pretty sure it will, the question is, will we still be sittin on the ride or will we have to leave stage before the grand finale?

I guess nobody knows and we’re certainly not gonna find out right here right now… As for my own personal newsflash / commentary on the fuck up society we are living in:

1. What’s going on with parents using their own children in order to get some fame and maybe just a little fortune? So there’s a bunch of sickos living out there, teaching their kids to tell lies in order to fake a tragedy so that these bastards can be in television for a while…. Well, everything for our fifteen minutes of fame… Now should these parents still be allowed to raise children? should they be even allowed anywhere close to children or is their shier presence already bad enough of an influence? As I see things happening, they’ll be paying some money, a small fine and that’s it… Isn’t that a great example for the kids? Apart from that how fucking selfish does one have to be in order to exploit someone in such a useless manner resulting from nothing more than just being a big ass attention whore?!?!  Well I guess that’s why I’m writing this blog as well, only I don’t claim that it flew away in a weather balloon…

2. Apart from that, A small German inventor came up with a treatment for Neurodermatitis… after investing everything every penny into the invention, and getting clinical prove for his claim from various independent clinics… Guess what, none of the big Pharmaceutical Companies is willing to bring this product to the market… The rights on the invention were estimated with some 950 Million € by PWC and yet… no company is willing to invest… the inventor had to file for bankruptcy and that’s pretty much the end of that story… 10% of the worlds population are estimated to suffer from a skin disease that could be treated with this medication, without any side effects… yet it’s better to keep them sick, in pain and paying than to cure them right? Kinda makes one angry…

3. The good news is, Pakistan is on the path to redemption / salvation (sorry for any incorrect translations) basically that path consists of a man hunt for anybody who looks like a terrorist… And we all know how these guys look like, beard, turban, weird language… I guess they’re going to find quite some of them in Pakistan… Isn’t it great that this country will soon be terror free?!

No but seriously… good news is…

another great tune i found:

and in order to round things up… here’s the pic of today:

IMG

thx nico for the great shot…

[ratings]

Posted: October 19th, 2009
Categories: aim.
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what’s new.

so, what’s new?

well sure, there have been some prices awarded recently. Not that they would have meant something, I mean seriously, awarding the president of the most bellicose nation with a price for peace seems a little shallow and almost as if a certain committee might be influenced by some kind of hype… Yet, strangely enough, none of the other nominations in the other categories seemed really impressing…. actually last time I checked, the price was awarded for outstanding engagement or discoveries… Now a president inaugurated only 8 months ago and without any significant results in any peace process in standing in line with names such as Henry Dunant, founder of the Red Cross, with Henry Kissinger, one of the greatest diplomats of all times, with Albert Schweitzer a great philosopher and founder of the Lambaréné Hospital. One might actually think that this price was awarded for the expectations we set in this president, maybe some see him as kind of a Messiah for the USA, as a savior as somebody we can believe in, put our hopes on…

But we all have read more than enough about this, and I guess the only right thing to do is to have your own opinion and to see which of the expectations will be fulfilled. Maybe this price was a motivator for greatness, for wanting to merit it and therefore living up to its standards… We will see….

So what else went wrong? Yeah, there was this one thing that really touched me, this morning I heard in the news, that some weapons Germany delivered to Afghanistan ended up on the black market… nothing shocking here, but the reason why these weapons were sent. They were sent as development aid… so let’s see if we can figure this out, we shipped old weapons to a war ridden state that is in constant unrest and terror in order to help them develop? well great idea I’m really pro pouring gas into fire… Sometimes I doubt the sanity of some of our politicians… but then again, every country has the government it deserves…

Apart from that, France is deposing it’s nuclear waste on a parking lot in Siberia, and soldiers in Germany get better aka different vaccines for the A(H1N1) flu than the rest of us…

Luckily enough we won’t make it much longer if we go on like this…

good news is, I have discovered a great video via facebook

oh and here’s the pic of the day… that kind of goes with the whole mood…

tristes

So far… have a wonderful week everybody

take care have fun be good or not

[ratings]

Posted: October 13th, 2009
Categories: aim.
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system.

the educational elite

demanding and numb

well informed but blind

blinded by us

we are the people
we are the system
it is not our fault
that things go wrong,
ignorance is first civic duty

I am your virus, your infection, I live inside you, kill you, piece by piece,
I live to gouge you, hollow you, suck you, slowly, steady, endlessly,
until a shell is all that‘s left.
You are the victim of my rape, you are my rapist, our dance is of disgusting beauty and violent harmony. Bleeding and crying to the rhythm of a children’s lullaby. Embracing you, my nails peel flesh from your back of which i feast, the sweet taste of what we call love between my teeth, while blood runs from my subtle grin.
I am your system, am you dream, i am your fear, i am your friend, i am the pain you cause yourself while cutting, i am a single tear
cried in an ocean of lust.
I am the reason why you cry, but please don‘t tell, don‘t try to understand, just wrap your empty shell in branded shirts. Whenever i look into your eyes, i do not see your soul, but only a reflection of my bloodshot lustful eyes. I am the whore you love to fuck, i am the thorn that spears you while you come.
I am what you have made me, i am your life, i am your system, i am your dream, i am your bride that buries you, i am your man that kills you and your kid that hates you.
We are to young to die, to old to live, to stubborn to accept, to dumb to understand that live is not the dream we have.

[ratings]

Posted: October 9th, 2009
Categories: aim.
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war.

A bouquet of flowers, on a table.
the tablecloth is as white as fresh snow.
The first days of spring, children’s singing silent from a distance
sunlight flooding through the first leaves of the trees

plate by plate the table gets laid
silver knifes and spoons,
the smell of a roast floating through the whole house.

A dog barks,
A cloud covers the sun, dims the lights
the world lays in shadows.

Don‘t worry
it‘s gonna be alright, it‘s just a cloud.
It‘s gone already. Look little child, the sun comes out again.

The sunlight close to the window is amazing, smallest fluffs of dust
playing in the sunlight.
It‘s warm, so close to the window.

It get‘s colder. out of nowhere, the world is holding it‘s breath. The children stopped singing. the dog has stopped barking. No more talking, every word is a whisper. Hairs on necks straightening up. every slightest breeze of wind is felt like a storm.

The window starts to bend inwards, the glass, is bowed. The child stands in front of it, fascinated by what is happening. Suddenly it breaks, in a split seconds, thousands of crystals are dancing in the air, the sunlight letting them sparkle like diamonds.

The crystals still standing in the air, start to move, into the inside of the house.
The child can see them so clear and bright, he does not dare to move. the first sliver glides through the flesh under his eye. cutting it open in a beautiful half circle. getting stuck shortly above his cheekbone.

a split second later, the face is ripped in pieces, spiked with shreds of glass. the power of the blast is pushing the child backwards through the air, through the room. if the epic noise from outside would not be, you could hear the crack of the child’s spine being smashed into pieces when he hits the wall.

But what does it matter, the sun is covered by a cloud again, the world lies in shadow.

[ratings]

Posted: October 9th, 2009
Categories: aim.
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politics.

As the Background grows lighter and looses color,

the words become clearer and gain shape….

slightly it can be seen,

that all words depend on the background they stand in front of….

If we search for hate and disrespect

we should try to blend out the background of those words being written by politicians

in letters of glass, to fragile to stand, to empty to hold,

but sharp enough to cut millions of lives into pieces.

http://michellemalkin.com/2009/10/09/story-of-obamas-life-rather-than-recognizing-concrete-achievement/

[ratings]

Posted: October 9th, 2009
Categories: aim.
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mirror.

As the Background grows lighter, a shade starts to appear; a man can be seen on the small road leading into the color of emptiness. His steps forward are slow and weak; pulling his body in my direction, inch after inch. I am standing here, steadily, without fear, as i am free, I am breathing, I am pain free and not worried, as for whatever it is that may be happening, it is only a matter to my mind.

We have led ourselves ad absurdum, by our own definitions, we are the famous 1000 monkeys with 1000 typewriters, multiplied and to the power of many. We are the only reason, why we are here and everything around us is lost in meaninglessness.

Again I am still standing watching the silhouette of this man moving towards me. The road he is on is seamed with oaks each single one a thousand years older than the one before.

There is fog in the wheat fields next to the road, the moonlight is caressing it, its pale and dead rays of light are too weak to penetrate it. The wheat is moving to a rhythm that can’t be heard, but only felt. They sway in a collective trance, slightly back and forth, tilting their ripe crops. Every night they only wait for to be cut the next morning and so they dance together, to this rhythm. The rhythm of the heartbeat of a by passer.

I can see the face of the man. It looks old. More than old. Worn out, tired, like it has shed more tears in only a fraction of a second than I have in my whole life, there is no more sadness living in the eyes, no more worries about what the time to come may bring, no more fear of losing anything can be seen, because of the memory of having already lost everything is shining through the grey layer over his pupils. Although it is night and there is only the weak light given by the moon, I catch myself searching for reflections in those eyes, only to find that there are none.

I am standing face to face with this man, I can see his breath, the cold is stinging through me, down to my bones. The skin on the old man’s face looks like leather, blotched with bumps and scars, from thousand years of wandering through deserts, crossing mountains and oceans and searching for something he was never to find.

And now he is standing in front of me, face to face, staring at me, ripping my soul into pieces in a wink of his eyes. I know why he came, and he knows that I am aware of the reason of his visit. He wants me to wander with him, to go down that road he came from and if I join him, all eternity will be nothing more than this very dawn, ever and ever again, I will be trapped amongst the oaks and the fog and the wheat dancing to this old rhythm that is than not ever to be heard or felt again, but the wheat will still be swaying just like a memory of a live that has faded into dust.

Am I sad? Am I afraid? I would not say so. Honestly speaking, whether spending eternity in a prison with a somewhat morbid but beautiful scenery or spending a lifetime in this world, chasing for happiness just knowing that it is impossible to catch, prostituting yourself, selling your values and everything else only to make some more money a little faster, the difference is not that big. I look down. I avert my eyes. I see his boots, I see the dust on them, I see the scars and cracks in the dry leather, they have been to every place in this world and have been carrying their master for eons. I lift my eyes to his coat, the same old leather on the outside that is in some indescribable color, that once was black but now has faded into a tone, a pattern of millions of shades between dark and light one could loose hours simply looking at it. Its patina has given this old mantle more life than its bearer. The underlining is of a garment, harsh, rough and short threaded enough to be seen as a parody of live itself. The old man’s hands peer out of the sleeves. The same weathered skin as I saw before in his face. The fingers are long and thin, well proportioned with clean nails standing out only a millimeter over the fingertips. On the left ring finger there is a delicate silver ring, a more than subtle detail, this ring seems to be grown into the flesh of the finger just as if the man would never ever have taken off this ring.

I look up to the man’s face again I admire the weird and abnormal beauty of this face that is all but beautiful but rather fascinating, those eyes that seem to know every single detail and every moment in which a leaf might fall off any tree and that look of total indifference, this look of the complete understanding and comprehension of the full and absolute pain lived and experienced in every corner and every moment of every time that has ever been and is ever to come. And another look is in those eyes, a look of loneliness of solitude and peacefulness. A look that I understand, that I welcome, that I might find when looking in a mirror. I look down to where my left hand is, I look down on my left ring finger, and see the old silver ring I wear every day and never ever take off, and I finally step away from the mirror, turn around and start walking down the road I was always intended to walk.

[ratings]

Posted: October 9th, 2009
Categories: txt.
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fatal crash.

an impact so hard that the soul itself bursts into pieces

shreds of metal piercing though flesh and crashing through bones

while sitting silently, with an indescribable smile of stupidity and pleasure

as the pain is forcing him to laugh

while his heart stops beating he is relieved

for from now on his live can continue in meaningless routine

in automated processes scheduled in fractions of hours and days

reaching for love has failed,
what remains are the wrecks of a fatal crash

[ratings]

Posted: October 9th, 2009
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exhale.

Dissolve into a sea of worthlessness,

Let your soul explode, let the pieces drift,

Rays of sunlight, shining from a thousand stars, that are nothing more than reflections of candles,

In the eyes of beauty.

Grasping the frontiers of eternity

Between the hands of a no body

Finest Strings of purest gold

Vibrating to the melody of chaos

Inhale

Spirit is endless matter

Thoughts colliding

Giving birth to live and death

Melting, vanishing, creating

Every search comes to an end, as we begin

[ratings]

Posted: October 9th, 2009
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fragments.

Images, pictures, sounds, words,

finding their way through a room,

falling, tumbling, stumbling, standing

running, triping, changing swiftly,

with flashes and noises,

to silent to hear, to sublte to see.

Light sheds pleasant shadows hiding corners, smoothing the world

Angels out of smoke floating slowly in harmony

Freckles of glittering light refelcted on an iris

The sound of breathing somewhere, not to far away…

[ratings]

Posted: October 9th, 2009
Categories: txt.
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