Who are you?

When I sit in my chair and face the outside world from behind the window,
I see an us walking on the street and almost,
just almost, feeling the wind going through my hair.

A clock is ticking soundless,
It’s just eyes following the movements,
and this picture, of an us, and all these memories
not even distant, but away.

My cup of coffee is just standing there,
as if it’s waiting for my thoughts to pull over –
what if, how come, how should….
And I just can’t figure it out.

The page on the notebook stays empty
In silence I sit in this corner
A green plant next to me is the only living thing giving me some solace
in this miserable world

where I keep wondering
what went wrong

The suburbs of a heart

A block,
It’s not really square but
where the roads do cross,
there is a traffic light.

Deeper down, where you follow a flow
but don’t really know
What you’re looking for, or where to go
That is where the lights are green

There is a difference between
The heartbeat of a center or
The heartbeat of the outside

There is no highway here
Leaving the road means
entering the web of paths

you better run your engine

and follow the directions, or don’t.

and you, yeah you.

find your way out.

The descent of the downfall

there is a volcano inside of me
hidden well, so you can not really see

it has deeper grounds than you can imagine
and everlasting lava, without any hastle, without a question

it runs deep, wide, fast and wild
There is no mercy in these undergrounds

and where I can only find a metaphor
to describe what’s going on inside of me
I try to hide the pain
that is killing me

I tried to face it
Tried to change it
Tried to leave it behind
Try to whatever eases my mind
but it doesn’t

And I think I just can not keep going through it
And I think I just wish I knew it –
What to do and don’t, What could stop this, what could heal this

What could heal this crater

that is inside of me

That thing that is called

a heart.

My heart.

I had a dream, and it fell apart.

Days pass by, and every morning I stare out the same window. One day I see a tree in the sun, the other day I see a tree in the rain. Sometimes, there’s an owl sitting in the tree, but more often it chooses another one.

As days go by, sometimes I realize a little what is happening, and what has happened. Usually my brain seems to be just shut off, it doesn’t really do anything out of the automatic pilot, and maybe that’s for the better; i just don’t know.

I’ve re-read the e-mail I received from my ex, yes, it’s officially ex now, if you ask her. I don’t know what I would say if you ask me. The more I read it, the more I feel like she never even tried to fight for something, or put any work in an us. That’s not completely true, but , there is a part of truth in it. If you ask me, of course.

I also feel like she’s getting out of this the easy way and not me. I’m stuck with a lot of obstacles, and sometimes when I think of it it makes me angry. It’s not that I wish she had them, I don’t want anyone to have these struggles, the struggles of having no home and impossible to find one, to struggle for income, and what you get is not enough to make a normal living. At least her life continues. She still has the house, for herself, the garden, the cat, her freedom, money coming in because that government there seems to be easier with benefits, her environment, not having your stuff everywhere (my stuff is still half there). And so on.

And here I find me. I don’t even want to really think of it. No house. Low income, below minimum and I am ashamed of it. I’m slowly going towards 0, I’ve never been so low on money. There’s no looking out on a house or a better job right now, and, that’s also really my own fault, because I don’t apply. I don’t stick my head out in that world.

I tried several times, but something blocks me. When I start to write a letter, it ends pretty quickly. I’m not capable of dealing with a lot of stress. I’m really not that good in things. Why would someone hire me? Well, there’s a lot of people you better hire than me, because of so much reasons. Also the fact that everything seems to demand full time, and I don’t even know if I can make 8 hours a day. It sounds ridiculous, and yet it’s the bitter truth.

The bitter truth.

The bitter truth.

Those three words, resonate in my head right now.

The. bitter. truth.

So far, so close

Have you ever seen a raindrop
Choosing its own landing point
When diving down
The long way there,

The sky, the ground
The wind is increasing,
Though there is no sound.

Forecasts are there to be broken
Where are you going to find
and to answer the questions;

Sky or land -bound?

A drop, a storm, a ray of sunlight
It doesn’t really matter –
it just knows

it’s getting there.

Fed up

Last week, I’ve been extremely fed up by many things.
By trying to find a place to live, what seems impossible thanks to this crazy housing crisis that is going on, the crazy rents, the crazy things they ask for (you have to earn at least 3 times the rent), long waitinglists everywhere and the shitty salary and hours i get at my job.
All the things they ask from you in job positions, as if the world is freaking perfect all the time and you can just lego – up build a new human with this and that, perfectly as you wish for.

I am sick of everything. I am very fed up.

Of course, that does not bring me anywhere.

But I am so, so pissed off.

I just want to have my own space. I dont ask for a lot of money, just to get by and be left alone.

Sometimes I am so freaking sick of this world.

Freaking sick of having to be perfect.
Not being able to fit the freaking standards

I mean, come on, can I just live in this world or what?

Hello again, emptiness

Hello again, emptiness,
I’ve not missed you and missed you at the same time
Because can you ever miss what you don’t miss,
And can you ever don’t miss what you miss?

The world became a nothing saying place again,
A big weird thing that is part of a galaxy,
And everyone just does something, running around
And so much just about money and fame and stuff and status
and some people are outcasts

And one of these outcasts is me.

Hello again emptiness,
How have you been?
I’ve maybe not noticed you for a little while,

And I’m stuck in my usual world;

I can not live, and I can not die.

diving into a lonely world

The dusk is coming. I see the world slowly lightening up around me.
I’m in bed, not wanting to face the world, but the world is waking up anyway.

Everything is kind of pointless again. I’m alone again. I’m a being, living under someone else’s roof. A being, without a plan, without a whole, without a purpose.

Slowly I raise my body and sit on the side of my bed. I’m expected at some shitty job in an hour, so I have to move. I brush my hair, wash my face, dress, I avoid the mirror. I don’t want to see my own eyes. I don’t want to face myself. There is nothing to face.

I drink a glass of water, swallow some vitamins, force myself into eating something. Close the door, the world is still silent.

I drive to work. The world is just passing by. I don’t feel anything.

At work, I’m a number. Most of the people don’t even know my name. They don’t know who I am. They barely know anything about me. They don’t care either. I’m here with a shitty contract, temporary anyway. The first two weeks I really tried to socialize a bit, but my attempts to try to be social and nice failed. I left it there.

This job tires me. But at least it blocks me from thinking too much. And yet I do think, while working.

This job doesn’t provide enough money to live from. Then again, I don’t work fulltime. Because I can’t. And in these circumstances, I would probably get trouble, with my lungs and the amount of dust there. I doubt it’s good for me to be there, especially long term.

After work, I drive home again. Even though my car went for maintainence, it doesn’t always start rightaway. I have no clue what the problem is. It’s not the battery, nor the spark plugs, nor does there seem to be another problem. So far it always brought me where I needed to go, and I’m thankful for that.

I drive home, it’s more busy now. More people go home. Everyone wants to go home as soon as possible. There’s probably people and nice things waiting for them. For me, it’s not such a hurry. there’s no one waiting for me anymore.

I’m a silent solo being, moving through this world without much purpose. I don’t earn enough to be of any use to the tax system, nor to have a positive influence on the economy.

I am not really contributing to anything. I am replacable as hell.

Sometimes that is nice, sometimes it gets me.

Sometimes that is really nice, and sometimes it really gets me.

heartbroken

im not sure if i ever knew how it felt to be heartbroken
or maybe I forgot
or maybe I’ve put it deep away before
or I’ve simply not felt it so deeply because my love now is more deep

Love is a weird thing
And when someone doesnt want to be with you anymore
and you still love that person
and they still love you

But they dont want to be together
because they can’t
because they are just not happy with that
because they just dont function with that

And that hurts if

You love them and want to be with them
You saw your future with them,
Even if they have their imperfections
But you have yours too

And it’s just so complicated

And it hurts like hell

And it makes me so sad.

Hurt me another day

Not today
And not tomorrow
There is not a day
without the sorrow
without pain
without worry
and yet every word
and even every silence
strikes like thunder

I can not run
I can not hide
I can not cover my ears,
I am, not blind

Even if I’m standing here
Open in a field,
Without any protection

Hurt me another day