Monday, May 1, 2017

cherry blossom moments

September 4th
Take my hand and hurl yourself into adventures with me I can’t forget. Surprise me and just be you, let us fligh high and fall low, leave me alone and hold my ground, when I need you. And even more when you need me. Push me away and attract me, let me feel safe and grope in the dark. But don’t turn the lights off; sometimes I panic in the dark. Be a riddle in an open book and hide the solution on a piece of paper you swallow. But write down everything on a second one so I’m able to find it if I’m really looking for.

Hurl me into an adventure, I can’t forget, let us stand under water falls and freeze in snow storms, lay under palm trees in the sun and fully live this world. Dance with me until the morning dawns and dance with others. Kiss me until you’re fed up with me. Or maybe not. Just do whatever makes you happy and don’t hurt me. Just a little bit maybe, what comes with it, but don’t leave me on the floor when I was kicked. Carry me to bed and tuck me in.

Surprise me and just be yourself, because that’s the way I can love you. Surprise me and don’t ask for my name, instead ask if I like blue. Ask if I eat breakfast. Surprise me and be you and not all the others. Not at all like all the others.

It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.
John Green | The Fault in Our Stars

Winter is over, with you it became spring. With cherry blossoms and corny sunrises, with jackets I’m pulling over my chin in the morning and forget at noon. Finally spring again, finally noticing the little things, white petals, carried by the wind through the warm air like snow and my hand held by yours while you’re complaining about the cold air blast ruining your hair and I want to laugh because this moment is perfect and I don’t want to call anything perfect. But for this instant perfect is in the dictionary.

Why not stealing a cart, or no, let’s say borrowing it and go out through the streets, take a picture, freeze this moment and the smile in my face which is already hurting in my cheeks, but it’s good, everything is good and I want to hug the whole world, bray out my luck and share it, but at the same time I want to fill it in an old jam jar and preserve it for eternitiy, so I can never forget how you let me feel in this moment.

Run off with me, not away, simply off, in the city illuminated by street lights. Always too late, because a kiss is never just one, because one look in your eyes is carrying me far away and I can’t stop smiling. Taking hold of hands under the starry sky, find them and talk for hours, maybe say nothing even longer, because I love just feeling you next to me. Unexcited. I want to bake a cake not to have a cake to eat, much more for our faces smudged with dough. And I want to paint, the smell of fresh colour hanging in the air and wearing old and ugly clothes, anyway, not able to keep my hands to myself. Dreaming of sun and ocean and snow and ice and the big and much more small things, of life.

Snapshots between us, and time flies and stands still, everything at the same. One glance is enough and my heart stops beating for a second, races. Standstill between us, when we look at each other, thoughts revolving around you when I’m biting my lip. Mental cinema and void in my head. The fact that I smile when you’re doing nothing special, talking until four o’clock in the morning, fucking until three o’clock in the afternoon. You and I are polaroid moments in the ugly light of reality, and even without any filtre the picture is always perfect.

“I feel like I’m fifteen again!”
“Don’t mind, just enjoy it.”

Thursday, March 16, 2017

five o'clock a.m.

In this moment before dawn the birds are tweeting, when I’m already able to divine if the sky will be clear or overcasted by clouds, a conveying picture of my breath in the cold late winter air. It’s so silent, and everything in me is still loud of the bass of a night of nonstop dancing, I know I’m screaming, no matter how sober I am, but my heart is racing and my eyes are sparkling and the sweat on my skin lets me freeze a little bit, but basically I’m hardly feeling the cold.

The cold stone wall on my back, your hot body in front of me, my heart is beating the same beat like mine, ours together are boom boom-ing like the bass in the club behind the wall holding us. There’s nothing like public at five o’clock a.m., in this hour before the sun rises and a new day begins, in this hour, before one recollects, activates your brain again, all these things are immaterial at five o’clock a.m.

Slowly your hands are cutting out the sound of taxi wheels on the wet street, the drunk shouts recede into the distance and I forget that we’re strangers, because you feel so familiar. I’m feeling wide awake in this moment when heat and cold are colliding between us in this one hour in the half-dark, when you’re drunk of alcohol, of a night of dancing, of sleep loss, when you’re not capable of thinking, and don’t want to.

Five o’clock a.m., I’m free.

I’m awake like never before and tired as I wasn’t a long time, my thoughts stop spinning. I’m spreading my naked arms, indifferent how cold it is, tilting my head back and laugh, because life offers these hours for me. Hours in the dawn, thoughtless, conscienceless, noisy and intense. Real and free. Until I close the door behind me and everything becomes silent.

As realize I forgot to ask for your name, I smile.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

city life.

Life is like you’re walking through the city. The steps you’re making are all the same size. But sometimes you stop at a traffic light, shifting from one foot to the other, bobbing for- and backwards, looking to the left, to the right, waiting for cars stopping by or noticing the light changing to green from the corner of your eyes. Maybe you’re deciding to choose the other crosswalk or just changing pavements.

And you still move in the same direction you originally chose, even if you switched to the other side of the street, even if you looked to the left and the right and actually never forward. Nevertheless you know where you want to go, and you walk in the same direction.

Even though you don’t really know where you are, because you were too dazed to recognize that you turned into the wrong side street. Or because you thought you’d take a cutoff and in the end you made detour. But somewhen you get that you’re wrong and turn around, maybe you go back to a point you can remember to look where you would have needed to go. Or not, and maybe you ask someone for the way. Probably this someone will think you’re a weirdo because these days smartphones have a solution for everything, but Someone will touch his forehead and show you a direction.

And you’ll walk in it.

Maybe it’s the wrong and you get lost. But it’s possible that it’s the right and soon you know the building around you and soon you know where to go.

Life is like you’re walking through the city. There are loud places with too many people. But there are also silent places where’s no other human being in sight. On some days you need the noise and on other days just the wind in the leaves above you.

Life is often tedious, exhausting, one has to work to progress, step for step, patient, when the traffic light is red and accept the detours, risk something if a cutoff comes along, ask for help when you stuck trying on your own. Often you have to immerse yourself into a bulk of people and be part of it, so you get to know other angles and sometimes you have to sit under a tree and close your eyes.

Life is a challenge. But that’s good, because it’s the only way to surpass you. Only after choosing the wrong direction, you notice where you’re right. Only after bumping into stressed people you notice how stressed you are. Only after missing the bus you now if the chance is worth the risk. Only after jumping one step back, so you don’t get hit by the tram you look left and right before you focus on you goals.

Sometimes you make small steps in life, because you’re waiting at a traffic light and the back and forth, to and fro is just pastime. But somewhen every traffic lights switches to green. And if it falls out, look, wait and then walk. Just go.

Monday, March 6, 2017

Monday tip | How to get away with murder

You were always faster than me
I'll never catch up with you, with you
Oh I can feel them coming for me
naughty boy | no one’s here to sleep

How to get away with murder is a series around the criminal defense atternoy Annalise Keating who shares her experience and knowledge as professor at Middleton Law School. In the first episode she picks the most talented students to give them the chance for an internship in her office. So a series begins, which mesmerized me, not only the thrilling stories of each protagonist, their interaction but also the mandate cases.

And first of all: The plot itself. I hardly ever watched such a suspenseful and well-wrought story. I guess most likely Revenge reaches this level. But back to topic. Who’s looking for a series to binge watch or is just bored – have fun. How to get away with murder offers great legal cases (put that under further education, it’s a great excuse), lots of intrigues, sex and of course: murder. And just a side note: The soundtrack is amazing, I could listen to No one’s here to sleep on repeat all the time.

Since last week the second season is available on Netflix and I can already say: it’s in no way inferior to the first. 

Saturday, March 4, 2017

#exploretheworld | Morocco

It’s my fifteenth birthday and the first day at a new school. A new beginning, again alone among strangers, again on my birthday. I’m wearing my new converse, the first original ones, a special edition I still have. I’m entering the class room, most of the others are already there, and next to the door in the first row you’re sitting. And you seem to be different. I like your hair, you unisex clothes and your charisma. The place left to you is still free, and I sit down, I want to get to know you. Really. A few minutes later the first day of school starts and we have to write our names on a coloured paper. Yours was bright yellow, I remember it like it was yesterday.

Almost seven years elapsed and the ocean rushes behind us, Sazu, the dog is running in front of us and then behind us and the sun is shining of clear blue sky in Morocco. In the meadows around us are bright orange flowers blossoming and right now you’re telling that this is your favourite orange. I think that matches you and immediately I have your name tag on my mind. You are colours, the bright ones, you’ve always been and it’s so cool that it hadn’t changed.

Friday, 10th February 2017, I booked my flight for Tuesday. You invited me a few months ago, but I had to wait for my new passport. I’m excited, somehow I’m took by surprise by myself. Admitting, I’m in doubt if it’s a good idea, but I’m pushing them far away, ignore them, I still have three days to organise everything. It will work, at least I have a date for Valentine’s Day, right?

Tuesday, 14th February 2017, I’m waking up after a way too short night, can’t manage half of the stuff I wanted to, but at least I’m at the railway station on time. And I’m less excited than I thought I’d be. I’m more like bored at the prospect of three hours on train and three flights. But still I’m happy, always, when a journey begins, a new adventure I recognize how much I miss being on the way. Landscapes passing, thousands of strange faces on one day, recalling language skills I learned years ago and spending waiting times with books and great music. Notice familiar details in strange areas, because in the end every train station, every airport, every city resembles the other.

Shortly after 9.00 p.m. local time I’m arriving at Rabat, I’m a little bit nervous, asking myself if you’ll be there picking me up, or if I’ll standing there without a sleeping accommodation on a strange continent at the end of the day. But you are there, and it was a little bit like there hadn’t been six years between now and the last time we met each other. True friendship. Five minutes later we knew that three days will be way too little time – not only to see everything, also to catch up on all the conversations we missed during the last years.

And so my first holiday abroad Europe started with a walk through the night and it was after midnight as I finally collapsed into bed and there was not a single minute we didn’t talk. Exchanged stories. Told, and exchanged opinions, compared beliefs. Sometime at three o’clock I fell into bed.

The next days were like that, with blue sky, sound of the sea, palm trees and road trip feeling, even if these three days were way too short to experience Morocco. But it was enough for a first impression. I fell in love, especially with Essaouira, a beautiful harbour town near Marrakech.