The 36th floor . Maybe you think you are a nobody, but I still remember you – Kooru

Yeah, I noticed you removed your blog a while (okay: years) ago. I have no idea if you are still in blog-world, or I don’t know if you’re still alive actually. I really hope so, though I hope you’re better than how I ‘knew’ you. Often you crossed my mind. No 36th floor anymore.

I was always hoping it would come back. Still. THough I don’t think so, I’m not even sure if you will ever read this, or if you still remember me, but I never forgot about you.

I’m not sure what I want to reach with this post. I hope that you realize that I appreciated your appearance. That I miss that 36th floor. That often you cheered up my mind, just by replying. I just hope that you know that you didn’t dissapear. Maybe you think you’re a nobody, and you dissapear, but you’re a missed member in blogworld too.






The clouds breathe for you (do they breathe for me?)

I listen. I just listen. It’s all silence, and all noise. But it’s the perfect tune to go on a travel in my head. The outside world is far behind the window: I only see the rain and listen.

Click: The Glitch Mob – The clouds breathe for you

The clouds breathe for you, it’s called. And I ask myself,
Do they breathe for me too?

Crossing intersections, calm and fear, rushed and peaceful
depression is near and maybe all the time
around the corner

oh life,
would you forgive?


Our moon


It’s our moon, I know, and I want it, it’s ours. Our moon.

Distant and close. Close and distant.

But we can’t touch it together, we can’t see it together.

not now, and I wish it would.

I wish it would be



for as long as it can.


it is our moon.

Regrets over coffee


From behind the drivers seat, I grab my bag,

the bag that’s lying there for hours untouched, out of function, in a wintersleep.

Outside the rain pours down, but it’s time for a break in this december storm

The raindrops keep falling on my head, no matter how fast I walk or run

With a coffee I walk back

Coffee, which I’m not even fond of so much but yeah,

Rain pouring down from the sky,

Thoughts pouring down with questions like why,

Regret, oh sweet regret,

Why can’t you

just be something else?

Living the wrong life.

Why is it so hard to change your life, even if you know your life isn’t the life you should live?

Lately I get overwhelmed from time to time by the oceans of thoughts and questions that attack me. Nothing new though; I always had them and they will probably stay in my life as long as it will last.

In my outdoor trip in the Czech Republic, someone recommended me the book “Wild” by Cheryl Strayed. I’m reading it now and it brings back melancholic feelings. It brings back the feelings of wanting to go back outdoors. The uncertain. The unsure. The outside.

Scary, but one of the best things I ever did. Usually I care because I want to know I have a safe place, a place where I can withdraw from this crazy world. A place that is mine, where no one can chase me away. Where I can be me.
Its kind of strange, because the outdoors is not mine. It’s not safe. Everyone can chase you away.  But yet, it feels different. Life changes, in the outdoors.

I’m thinking about my life. I finally have a job, but did it actually add something to my life?
Well, it did add money for sure, and some safety, some luxury, that I’ve been able to buy new clothes, eat the things I wish for, learn some new things, be more confident (though this still doesn’t mean I am confident). It’s a job that I can handle. I can save up, and as long as the job stays (that is insecure and uncertain), things are safe and well.

Yet I don’t think I’m happy.

I miss the mountains.

I miss the outdoors.

I miss my love.

I did not see a future here. I still do not see a future here.

Things need to change. I, need to change.

Leftover chocolate

A bitter taste, because it’s dark

I find the leftovers of your


You’re not here anymore

this house is empty, I am empty.

I come home from work,

but you’re not there.

I ask myself

What’s the point of being and existing

without love?

Soon, with every minute,

the distance between us will become larger and larger,

and we’re far away again.

Just a couple of hours you were here right next to me

And now all I find are

little traces of you

Crumbles and your scent,

and leftover chocolate.

I don’t like the chocolate,

but I eat it.

Just because…..

I don’t even know why.