Tag Archives: hass



Hipster hating blog. It’s amusing and in parts I understand the dislike, but this takes it pretty far..

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i don’t understand.

location: nothing’s changed
who’s nearby: no one
mood: yearning
music: Wim Mertens – Bresque
gut feeling: I don’t understand. – Try to. – Why? – Because you cater to the whims of the pathetic and take your clothes off to make an impression. Stop boring me and think. It’s the new sexy.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pv7GnOtLkg8%5D

1. what do you do when someone says the most wonderful’n deep things to you and then hurts you with mere detachement? did I miss something? anybody got an advice? today in the shower I scrubbed everything off me, long and extensively. after that I felt pure. but it did not last. all fucking quiet on the western front.

[vimeo http://vimeo.com/39750931%5D


2. I met Alex this evening and it felt wonderful to see him again. had been for quite some years I think. he’s a good looking bloke, his hairstyle rather 1920s, just the berlin way, and his tan golden like honey from the last trip to southeast asia. and while he chatted, drinking his tea with rum, he casually mentioned his days at boarding home. I already knew his father had outcast him when A came out of the closet at the age of ca. 20 and revealed his immunodeficiency. But it left me speechless to hear that during the years at this school he was permanently being abused by some minder(s). “I mean, my father and my mother had to realize that something was wrong at one point. I had to be taken to the hospital. testicles don’t fall off like that, right? so I begged my mother not to take me back to boarding school but she just said: that’s not up to me. you going to have to talk to your dad.” decades later they still don’t talk about it. A is 40+ now and the sharade is killing him.
after a few hours of half-serious talk he said goodbye and headed to his hartz IV- flat in west berlin. “gonna take a long walk, perhaps. otherwise I’ll be home too early and won’t know what to do with myself.”
I really wanted to hug him then.

Nicholas McLeod

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gefühle fühle fühle geh fühle geh, gefühl.

Ort: Deutsche mittelgroße Kleinstadt, Felis Wohnung
Die nächste Person in meiner Nähe: Jake, Till und Jakes Freundin (vermutlich erschöpft vom Sex mit Jake)
Stimmung: optimistisch doch furchtsam
Musik: David Sylvian – Praise
Bauchgefühl: Der Wein ist leer

ich gehöre nicht zu den personen, die viel von liebe reden. meinen letzten blog auf uboot.com habe ich gnadenlos gelöscht, weil für meinen geschmack das verliebtheits- oder kummervokabular einmal zu oft vorkam. gleichzeitig war er nicht attraktiv genug für andere, weil ich nicht von ficken, fotzen und onanieren geredet habe. also ein doppelter grund, diesen eigentlich wundervollen blog ins jenseits zu schicken. gute texte. überlegte sätze. na was soll’s.
aber die schmerzhafte geschichte von mir und dem exilami nahm vor exakt 11 tagen derartig bizarre züge an, dass die tränen selbst in der öffentlichkeit flossen. am flughafen, in der bahn, beim gemüseeinkauf und unter der dusche natürlich. die letzten wochen waren einfach nur furchtbar. menschen beginnen mir geld zuzuwerfen, weil ich so miserabel aussehe. und deshalb habe ich wieder mit dem schreiben angefangen.

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