hands off of americans

in the picture that he uploaded he's leaning against a wall. crossed legs, a drumstick in his right hand. i did even forget he was a drummer. that was maybe why i fancied him. and because he was a journalist. he's wearing suit trousers, a light blue shirt and a tie. he looks like the camp version of john mcenroe.

he's a self pitying moron.

he didn't even realise that a few months ago i came and disappeared after a couple of days. i did leave no traces. i deleted every mail i sent and everything that he sent me. in his mails he didn't bother to ask about me. he just told me that a girl walked into his life and fucked it up. he is forty-something and the girl he shagged is four years younger than me.

and now - without a warning - he tries to creep back into my life. without an explaination. without an apology.

sod off, chris. and come back when you're all grown up.

the aussie

who would have thought that i would see this bloke ever again in my obscure life? omg, it was like half one in the morning and we were proper drunk!

don't fear me baby, it's just justin

ex-people on the radio

when i drove home from work on monday evening i tuned in to radio fritz. normally i listen to motor fm but there were news or a shit song, i don’t know. and on fritz there was bluemoon on, a radio talk show. the dj’s voice was somehow familiar to me, although it took me about half a minute to realise it was h. to whom i once had given my heart and soul and much much more and who never loved me the way i wanted him to. his voice sounded strange and much higher than i remembered. a question popped up in my head: „does your voice get higher when you quit smoking?“ for two or three minutes i listened to the conversation he had with the caller, then i changed the frequency. it was okay to hear him. it was so him. it didn’t hurt the whole three minutes. phew. enough for at least one year.

when i was on the way to my gp today i was feeling a bit dizzy and so not listening to what dj max spallek was saying. „generation praktikum“...„neues buch“...„zwölf stunden sind kein tag“... and after the last sentence i was wide awake and thinking „please, no.“ but it was too late. he was already announcing my not too beloved ex-fling b. who was invited into the studio to talk about his book. (i wrote about this earlier.) fortunately i was already parking my car when b. started talking in his bored sounding voice so i did not have to listen to what he was saying. i know what you think – but those things are like car accidents: you just cannot take your eyes – or in that case ears – off of it. but if it has come that far – b. is allowed to talk on the radio – it’s high time for me to leave.

p.s.: what was supposed to be the first sentence of his book became the last.

p.p.s.: of course i'm envious. of course i compare. but i'm still the better person.

guilty conscience

i don’t know what’s going on. normally i get those mood swings when i’m shortly before my period but today i’m psychially in the middle of nowhere and my period is more than two weeks away. but i feel like throwing up all the time, i cry when i look at my two slices of toast, i spill the milk for my tea because i’m shaking like a leaf. the last two and a half days i was sick in bed. my boss sent me home and as soon as i could lay down i got a temperature. i admit, i was not looking like a pretty flower but actually i don’t start crying over a bloody piece of toast.

i managed to get myself to work today although i wasn’t feeling too well. berlin tried to cheer me up – it was dressed up as london in it’s big-grey-and-fluffy-white-cloud-gown. the air was warm and the wind blew the smell of the building site next to our office right into my nose. it stank like it always does. any sirens? no? there were always sirens screaming when i was in london. oh berlin, next time you have to be better prepared to convince me.
when i arrived at the office i immediately felt sick again. i didn’t want to, it just happened. my boss was not happy to send me home again because the probably most stressful weekend is lying ahead of us, but he just said „if you’re sick, you’re sick and now you’re going home. that’s that!“

because he was mad at me for not having gotten myself checked when i was sick at home i went to my gp. and he told me i was suffering from circulation problems and low blood pressure due to the weather and the fact that i was still a bit weak from my flu. he gave me a prescription for a med against sickness and another to stabilise my circulation and handed me a sick note on top which says i should not work before tuesday. instead i should sleep much, drink much and have healthy food. and rest. no stress, please. my gp’s sweet. and funny. he makes me miss out the most fucking weekend of the year and when i told my boss he was totally unimpressed. but he sticked to what he was saying earlier, i’m not allowed anywhere near the office before tuesday. thing is: i have another two regular non-sick days off on tuesday and wednesday. and now i’m having such a guilty conscience because i feel like someone might think i did it on purpose, which of course i didn’t. could be a nice holiday, couldn’t it? for fuck’s sake, i’d rather go to work than get bored watching shit on the telly. seems this is a problem that only i have.

dreams are my reality

today i downloaded the new keane single spiralling from keanemusic.com and i can’t get it out of my head anymore. when i listen to it i feel like wanting to take a walk in the sun with j., embracing him and sliding my hands into his back pockets. this is a song i’d like to have a bath tub full of. i’d like to wrap myself up in it, close my eyes and get caressed by tom chaplin’s voice. he can make you think you’re flying. or that you’re a famous movie star. or madly in love with a bloke that - by chance - is madly in love with you, too.

now that i think about it i really like the thought of grabbing someone’s arse by putting my hand in their pocket first. just the way i like kissing someone between the shoulder blades when they are still sleeping or have just gotten up to make some coffee and you come lurking into the kitchen and cuddle up behind them.

i feel like spiralling. i wish i would be with j. but this is never ever going to happen.

when we fall in love
we’re just falling
in love with ourselves
we’re spiralling
we’re tumbling down

what a shame.