What is that one sorry that keeps us captive?
16th May 2020

I am sorry. First of all towards myself for having made irrational decisions in weak situations. Second of all sorry towards all the girls and boys feeling the need to either come across as fierce and collected to be seen. Third, I am sorry for all the men I slept with, not giving the pleasure we originally desired because I was lying to myself with my emotions. Fourth, I am sorry for all of us who did not learn how to properly feel.

We all did not know better. But that is why we are here.


Was ist die eine Entschuldigung, die uns gefangen hält?
16. Mai 2020

Es tut mir Leid. Zuallererst tut es mir für mich Leid irrationale Entscheidungen getroffen zu haben in schwachen Momenten. Dann tut es mir für alle Jungs und Mädchen Leid, welche als stark oder geordnet auftreten, um gesehen und annerkannt zu werden. Drittens, tut es mir Leid für alle Männer mit denen ich geschlafen habe und ihnen nicht die sexuelle Erfahrung bot, die wir uns ursprünglich wünschten, weil ich mich mit meinen Emotionen selbst anlog. Viertens, tut es mir Leid für alle, die wir nicht gelernt haben anständig zu fühlen.

Wir wussten es nicht besser. Aber dafür sind wir hier.

Dialectic battlefields

Dead eyes,
great lies,
big cries,
empty nights.

Running around chasing electric highs, we are done people. And there is nothing we will ever authentically do.

We Gen Z girls are all the same,
nightly shadows crawling like cocaine
dreams upon the back of our shoulders 
shouting screams we tear up all the boarders 
within us and you surrounding me. 

If I’d call you now was it redemption or was it a foolish theme 
of grinding? 
Fuck- boys, -toys, -girls and what we seem? 
We seem to reach upon eternity we did not dream. 

I feel like you all don’t understand me and I don’t want to make you understand, rather run away to far gone fundamental cotton land.

There are times I am struggling,
still over and over and over 
struggling with you making me want to kill myself.
I need other people and realest friends.

I watch videos of a skatepark broadcasting and it’s your face that I search for. 
For what was I made for?
Laying in bed against the wall waiting for the blackest dream to fall upon me. 

It’s hopeless somehow, 
I feel so hopeless right now.
I can’t,
I really 

I cannot go on like that. I tried, but I won’t.

Somewhat cigarette tendendies, 
even with therapy I see they’re not getting solid 
happy frequencies.
What to do now if all our thoughts are saying sweet, soft tender make beliefs
but our souls are not believing 
grieving in dead end streams.

It’s like a dialectic battlefield.
We are fighting for solid homelands, 
but right away heros of loneliness are still making a homerun. 
What’s going on? 

Drunk long showers, we are hoping for skin to peel off in our celsius corners, 
planes crashing, flying high
(for they are safe but not crashing for no reason.) 
I wish I was authentically good without no try
somehow the only thing I am hoping for right now is a life long freeing threesome.
(Plus there were executives asking us if we were really wanting to hitchhike as girls at night and I ask: what to lose? For Omar drove us into our own solid match-made heaven.)

then there is my brains decluttering all the heart’s confusion again, it’s like an entangled woolball twisting and winding around my heart. Always longer…And boo? I cannot say if it’s guilt that I am tripping, for in the first place I don’t want to let reason rule over my heart where anxiety is weaving wool tangles around- I cannot untangle it, I am afraid of finding nothing underneath what’s somewhat surrounding it.

I just want all this to stop.
I just want a peaceful freedom. 
Besides that who then are we? 
If not numbness, depression and emotional deep diving free? 
(I miss you but I cannot tell).

One question is still roaming around in my head as I remember you right behind me in the shower hitting hard, 
what comes after Z? 
Did sociology know that we were feeling end intertwined in our souls deep down engraived in me? 
Why after all this I see no end and what comes after us.
What comes after Z? 
Our identity was build on a non existent fundament and we’re still here asking ourselves how did we get to this hopeless end? 
If not determined, I don’t know what it is.
What comes after Z?
Greater than this 
and more fake handsome than that. 

Smoking is making my head hurt, stomach sick and lung heavy, I should skip. 

Dude, I just wanna chill (just for a bit, please.)
I need to let that numbness go and I need to let the anxiety go, at the risk of either feeling blackness forever or colorful for the rest of my life.
What of a joyful life to live?
Because somehow it’s the nowadays societies circumstances, somewhat it’s the heartbreak, somewhats it’s the childhood and somewhat it’s existence 

Somewhat just overwhelmed, somewhat. And not any answer will satisfy me, it’s not even a solution I want to find. Please, I want to remove the problem’s existence in itself.
Either shape or escape reality it’s nothing better than that, 
I am trying to understand it. 
But one cannot escape surroundings can one? 
And that’s where all the roads lead to, somehow. 

How to disable collective sad mentalities? We are sick faces, living only for the grave. 
Can’t we all, for once, be nice and care for each others emotions and souls?
It’s the only thing to cure.

18th, 19th, 20th May 2020


she, her mind and herself in silence,
dimensions away feels drifting into other spaces, wondering about decay.
For me to just stand there- high up above watching her breath in patience, dwelling in foreign mysteries.
Her needs only to be fulfilled without my violence.

Love and everything about it 
And all my patience only dedicated to her. 
Never to invade her spaces, ever to be fulfilled in our solid intimate air.

Soft blue and beigy pink.
Soft blue and beigy pink, give her time and softly ask her „what you think?“ 
,,Nothing babe, only absent violence.“

21st May 2020