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

source
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. 














Monday, February 27, 2017

Monday tip | @humanlovers

“I want to go on a road trip. Just you, me, the highway, and the radio. The blue sky, the black roads, and windows down. We'll talk about everything, and nothing and we'll sing our hearts out and we'll make memories we'll never, ever forget. Just you and me.”

The greatest stories in this world are written by love. These are the stories I can listen to five hundred times, at least, and they’re still pierce me to the heart, there where it hurts. These are the stories I sigh at the end and smile all over my face, because they are unwordly and at the same time true-to-life. Do you know this feeling, when you’re listening to such stories? Of the one and only true love, the first big love, an impossible love became possible, the love changing world. Complicated, simple, inconvenient, passionated, messy, real, faked love stories. And each of them touches my heart, moves people and somehow the world.

Love is something special, indescribable, something one finds thousand words, at least, and yet still not one of them expresses which stories love really tells. But still I like to hear them. These many little stories of faster beating hearts, because somehow they bathe the world in an enchanting light which cuts out all its mistakes.

“Look at you. You're young. And you're scared. Why are you so scared? Stop being paralyzed. Stop swallowing your words. Stop caring what other people think. Wear what you want. Say what you want. Listen to the music you want to listen to. Play it loud as fuck and dance to it. Go out for a drive at midnight and forget that you have school the next day. Stop waiting for Friday. Live now. Do it now. Take risks. Tell secrets. This life is yours. When are you going to realize that you can do whatever you want?”
— Louise Flory

The Instagram account @humanlovers catches such moments, all these moments full of love and what should I say: That’s simply beautiful, because these scenes are familiar, amazing memories and then I smile as they’re pure despite filter. And somehow I miss the immediate real in this photoshopped world where each spontaneous picture emerges under perfect lighting.