Dienstag, November 19, 2013

"All is full of love...

...you just ain't receiving. Your phone is off the hook..." - I got sucked into a Björk concert from 2001 and I rediscovered some of her lines that I had forgotten all about. Although, I am posting probably the most well-known here, I also had a dream-like experience when listening to "possibly maybe" again.

What if it was true, though? What if it was true for you? What if your phone was off the hook? What if your door was shut? I have to blog this, because I can hardly ask you. I would send you the concert... but I am afraid your ears are deaf to this kind of fatalism. I, on the other hand, am returning to it.
What if it was true for you?

I am asking this and cannot seem to escape the arrogance that comes with such questions. There's no room for sympathy here. I will just keep floating. If it doesn't make you do crazy things, it is not real. Or is that a lie? We have rationalized what we could and yet we keep stretching our every limb to reach across that abyss and lay our hands on the raw forces of desire. This is inhumane. It is divine.

Mittwoch, November 13, 2013

Slow like Honey

Ich sitze im Licht der Dunstabzugshaube zwischen Herd und Fernseher, und von hier aus kann ich die Autos sehen, die auf der E35 durch den frühen Abend gleiten. Die Häuser am Berghang sehen beinahe nach Stadt aus und aus den Boxen tönt ein Lied, zu dem man jemanden ausziehen möchte… Vielleicht ist das schon das Leben.

Ich bin jedenfalls ganz Glück für den Moment. Es ist einer dieser raren Augenblicke, in denen alles möglich ist. Und zwar nicht nur theoretisch. Der Undercut war definitiv eine meiner besseren Ideen und während ich so langsam richtig hier ankomme, bin ich schon voller Weihnachts- und Heimbesuchsvorfreude. Die absoluten Sehnsuchtsdinge zur Zeit? Meine 6 Duschgele, eine große Küche und flaches Land. Ja, sicher, da gibt es auch Menschen zu treffen, Lieder zu singen, Nächte zu tanzen, Quark zu essen… aber das ist nicht so dringend.

Maybe this is how it starts.

Samstag, November 09, 2013

We fuck and we fight...

I can see it now. How we meet in an all encompassing stillness against this backdrop of pale blue sky and dry grass. There's no song playing in the backs of our heads. Certainly not Arcade Fire or Angus & Julia Stone. There will be none of the scores we envisioned for our subtitled lives. I can see us meeting. Not in the summertime, but still with that golden hue on our skins. You won't vomit light and I won't be bent over in pain. We will have come a long way. You will be a man - all of a sudden -, not an idea, not a hero anymore. And I? I will be shattered beyond belief. All muted colours and tentativeness.
We will meet and it will be so real that we refuse to believe it. I can see it now. In a bleak world, bored out of our minds, half-asleep from the numbness we will discover desire. And it will be everything we've dreamed of and nothing like we imagined.

Burn me to the ground.

Sonntag, November 03, 2013

Did I say I'm just a boy?

My family was over for a long weekend visit. We saw waterfalls and vast mountain scapes, we played cards and tag, we cooked and smiled quietly. Now they are back in Germany again and I feel more than ever that I am free to do whatever I want. Free. And that feels amazing. So I was flashing that 800W-smile on the busride home from Haugesund, mapping out a biking route for when I finally have a bicycle. I nodded to the girls sitting next to me and scored a free ride fom Ølen to Etne.

Now I have watched the Halloween episode of Grey's Anatomy and while I enjoyed it, I think it might be time to part ways with this series. I miss Christina's spot-on one liners and as much as I enjoy all the Shepherd-Grey family bliss, I miss Meredith's abandonment issues. Somehow the magic has fizzled out over the last episodes... So I have to find myself something else to cry to.

Tomorrow is the first day of my half-marathon training (that might turn into a marathon training) and I am pumped. Also, I really want to play guitar and write songs.

I turned the heating on after days of rain
now the steam is rising
you asked if I could love you again
you'd been to the horizon
and you went on
you went beyond

you've seen the sex we could've had
and it made you think
maybe we still could pick up on that
now you're on the brink
tipping the scale -
how could we fail?

You asked if I could love you again
now the tide is rising
would I dare coming back to this pain
to this bleak horizon?
Well, the answer is no

I still love you, though