He felt bigger than he could fit. Like it was bursting out the sides. So he wrote a letter to his therapist 15966 kilometers away.
Response pending...
Thursday, 4 December 2008
Monday, 1 December 2008
look what popular culture has done to them.
I am totally amazed by that little girl in the front. who raised these wolfes?
Monday, 17 November 2008
Heaps of icy poles
I recently mentioned the influx of Asian students in Melbourne to a friend in England, my exact words being 'yeah, there are heaps of Asians in Melbourne now'. I got a distinctly blank look in response. Apparently 'heaps'is not something the Brits say, and neither for that matter is 'icy pole', which prompted childish sniggering every time the words passed my lips.
Thursday, 23 October 2008
Monday, 13 October 2008
Tuesday, 30 September 2008
Passport
Losing a passport is a painful thing. Losing all perspective after losing a passport is even more painful. After a 3-day anxiety binge, I finally have my emergency proof of existence, and will hopefully be greeted with open arms by the people of the United States of America. Thank God for helpful Mexicans! I have renewed faith in humanity, but not quite yet in bureaucracy.
Tuesday, 23 September 2008
Wednesday, 17 September 2008
sailing into the sunset wish
feelings soaring high come down crashing
what goes up will come down
and around and around it goes
time just keeps on rolling
and sometimes i wish it could just stop
stop and be still
enough of this roller-coaster
how about some peaceful sailing for a change?
Monday, 8 September 2008
my story ended on crutches.
I was filming for 24h Berlin on friday. It was more that I made sure that the filming went alright, getting rid of any possible obstacle to keep the camera rolling. All of a sudden, I turned into my own obstacle. or, more precisely, it was the stairs. Only two or three steps but it hurt. A lot. The story of somebody else was over for me, I got pushed back into my own one. and, a little later, I got pushed to the x-ray department in a wheel-chair. It was all so weird, so very very weird that I had nothing better to do than laugh. I laughed all evening until I faced those 78 steps that I needed to be walked up. I managed. Over the last two days, I watched 6 DVDs, and, most bizarrely, my real doc was playing a doc in a film that I watched. life is a strange thiiiiii-i--i--ing.
Saturday, 6 September 2008
Saturday, 23 August 2008
like sh...!
my phone asked me "how are you today" when I switched it on this morning. do your really, really wanna know, phone?, I FEEL LIKE SHIT.
Thursday, 21 August 2008
Procrastination is just a form of perfection
http://www.structuredprocrastination.com/light/perfectionism.php
-- i feel much perfecter now --
Tuesday, 19 August 2008
Pina coladas
I recently found myself strangely touched by this late '70s single, which has the distinction of being the only song in the US to reach number one in 2 decades. I had never really listened to the lyrics before, which are more troubled than the breezy tune suggests.
It's an almost unbearably poignant tale, opening with a domestic scene of bored lovers, unfolding into a couple of adulterous verses as our narrator organises a rendez-vous via the personal columns, and finishes with a killer twist - he's cheating on his wife with... his wife! Years of miscommunication and resentment are swept away as each realises how great the other really is, and their passion is rekindled. If only they'd talked about tacky cocktails and midnight romps a little earlier.
The song gave me a strange sort of renewal of faith - low culture does get me high sometimes. If only every soft rock classic had this sort of emotional punch.
It's an almost unbearably poignant tale, opening with a domestic scene of bored lovers, unfolding into a couple of adulterous verses as our narrator organises a rendez-vous via the personal columns, and finishes with a killer twist - he's cheating on his wife with... his wife! Years of miscommunication and resentment are swept away as each realises how great the other really is, and their passion is rekindled. If only they'd talked about tacky cocktails and midnight romps a little earlier.
The song gave me a strange sort of renewal of faith - low culture does get me high sometimes. If only every soft rock classic had this sort of emotional punch.
Tuesday, 12 August 2008
Saturday, 9 August 2008
maybe and perhaps
On Wednesday, I met up with a friend of Helen. Gwen. She told me that one day, a few years back, she and Helen walked around Helmholtzplatz while visiting Berlin. That was my hood, and the idea fascinated me that we might have crossed paths a long time ago.
I saw my housemate's ex, F. the other day. F. had a tough day after his boss revealed to him his lust. He doesnt feel anything for his boss. He told me the story over a beer, how difficult it is when someone you know feels something for you and you cannot return those feelings. You are stuck in a shit situation once you know. F. also told me that he had a similiar thing happening to him a few years ago, when his neighbor-turned-friend confessed to him her love. The friendship broke over the fact that he could not feel the same for her.
5 years ago, my friend M. was flying high on butterflies. She was in love. Finally again. But it was a desperate love affair, as the person she had all those feelings for was not interested in her, not interested in girls. She was in love nevertheless and I was concerned. And although she knew, she told him. He was her neighbor, they had shared lots of dinners together, lots of talks. It was over from that day, for a long while. She was heart-broken and moved out just a few weeks later.
Maybe, we walked past each other, somewhere along Raumer Straße and briefly looked at each other. Maybe they stopped to ask: „excuse me, could you help us find Senefelder Platz“. They also could have caught that pingpong ball that I wasn't able to get, and I said „thank you“ when they passed it back to me. Maybe and perhaps. It is all possible.
I found more proof today for weird things that are so possible. My friend U. and I had a coffee and cake (mine was called "Claire" --- they had "Donna Summer" there too!!!...) at the cafe just opposite the NBKG gallery. We sit there and talk and eat and drink, when, suddenly I see that guy who makes coffee at arcadia (?) on gertrude street. I keep seeing Melbourne faces all the time and was just about to wipe off that thought, but my mouth spoke out his name. It was him. He joined us and I was very very confused.
I saw my housemate's ex, F. the other day. F. had a tough day after his boss revealed to him his lust. He doesnt feel anything for his boss. He told me the story over a beer, how difficult it is when someone you know feels something for you and you cannot return those feelings. You are stuck in a shit situation once you know. F. also told me that he had a similiar thing happening to him a few years ago, when his neighbor-turned-friend confessed to him her love. The friendship broke over the fact that he could not feel the same for her.
5 years ago, my friend M. was flying high on butterflies. She was in love. Finally again. But it was a desperate love affair, as the person she had all those feelings for was not interested in her, not interested in girls. She was in love nevertheless and I was concerned. And although she knew, she told him. He was her neighbor, they had shared lots of dinners together, lots of talks. It was over from that day, for a long while. She was heart-broken and moved out just a few weeks later.
Maybe, we walked past each other, somewhere along Raumer Straße and briefly looked at each other. Maybe they stopped to ask: „excuse me, could you help us find Senefelder Platz“. They also could have caught that pingpong ball that I wasn't able to get, and I said „thank you“ when they passed it back to me. Maybe and perhaps. It is all possible.
I found more proof today for weird things that are so possible. My friend U. and I had a coffee and cake (mine was called "Claire" --- they had "Donna Summer" there too!!!...) at the cafe just opposite the NBKG gallery. We sit there and talk and eat and drink, when, suddenly I see that guy who makes coffee at arcadia (?) on gertrude street. I keep seeing Melbourne faces all the time and was just about to wipe off that thought, but my mouth spoke out his name. It was him. He joined us and I was very very confused.
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