other people

why o why am i so sad
have i done something bad
have i shown my true face
more than once this lifetime?
did i miss it when it happened?
i wanna see what other people see
and not think
so goddamn much

you and i are actors in an endless play
life's the stage
that will not be able to make either of us stay
count to three
and then we'll jump
into morning into evening into nevernevermorgenland

fishing for compliments

in obscurity, originally uploaded by marinkel.

why is it that i still wait for daddy's approval? especially when he has only ever complained when i am not doing something. when i do, he never notices or hopes i will finish it soon and move onto something else. something he can relate to. "i know this guy works for vw. he could help you find a job," he says to me as i climb into his audi 3, which should really be the bigger one, but one changes cars like underwear and erroneously gave up the A6. just arrived on the continent and so there's hope, he thinks for her to finally be successful. "yeah, but what would i do for vw?" i wonder. "i don't know, just talk to him." yeah, you don't have a clue what i should do. fishing for compliments yet whatever i offer ain't good enough. scholarships, doctorates, graduations. nah. that's over the horizon for papa. but why does it matter so? liselle says, it's cause from the times when i was fishing early but also trying to find myself outside the family realm. i went fishing with him once and we had caught many fishes in a bucket. but i was not made for the killing. so i let them all go again. his entire catch. so we have things in common but we're not the same. take me the way i am. she says, accept that you feel this way and then let it go. it's from the time before when we were young. letting go would be good. so i can finally do what i want without worrying about approval. "were you drunk when you wrote this?" he asks. it's not that he doesn't try. "oh yeah, writing. like that chick that wrote harry potter. richer than the queen now. if one could do something like that..." i should laugh at all this. and i will. one day... then i will have all these compliments in a bucket and i will let them go one by one, because i was not made for the killing.

on the go

today i will take the tram cause i have shopping to do. since yesterday i walked and got me some blisters under my feet. but it was the warmest day yet, it is may after all. and i had to place an order for printing pictures in french. so i needed to walk up some courage. it's down the long tree-lined avenue, across the old bridge, along rue royale, a gauche on rue de something and then a droite on rue cheval rouge. in broken french i placed the order. of course the first picture that pops up is a nude. ah, mademoiselle... so today i will take the tram into town, pick up my pictures and shop for some more things for the big day, saturday. when i will try to sell some pictures.

next week i will take a plane. cause in january i took the train and that was a damn pain.

and so it will go on. always moving. moving. moving.

wolves

the worst are the wolves in sheep's clothing. the nice face that hides the hideous soul. the ugliness it is capable of. and as often as you look at it and wanna see what's behind it, you are blinded by the soft filters working to deceive you. the filters you invented yourself to make believe that life is wonderful. when i was sixteen or fifteen my father wanted to kill me. he said so. what makes someone say this? a man who makes me feel so wonderful at times. that this seems to be something so out of the order that i filed it away with "freaks of nature". a kind man. a melancholy man.

then there is the other kind. the sheep in wolves' clothing. the man i loved. still love of course. the ones who lash out at you to hide the loveliness they are capable of.

neither one suits me anymore.

be the wolf. be the sheep. but be. real. and true. to me.