my motto has always been 'Noblesse Oblige'

A bit high-flying, maybe, but proved many times over and so TRUE!

I don't care about money, it comes and goes and is useful. I've never liked competition -why? result is often coincidental and anything done in hurry is poorly built.

I JUST WANT TO HIT THE TARGET!

Layers of darkness

A manuscript for a film - but you can't write a movie with words!  Words are not enough! They lack the                visual and the rhythm... 

Oneliner: They are young, spend time together, make love all three, and then the boys die... and she is so alone -He's been badly treated, mental cruelty, by his parents, and one day in cold rage he shoots them... 

and this girl meets this boy in an enchanted cafe, the lost souls....

Synopsis: Niki has two boyfriends - they form a happy trefoil. They'll soon be twenty, they have this secret,          own  life, old car, hot summer and the rosy future opening in front of them. Then one October night the boys  get killed in a car accident. Niki is alone. She can not talk to anyone. because nobody knew, and no- one would accept the idea of a girl and two guys. The sorrow is crushing and Niki is placed in mental care.  Next summer the depression starts to lift and she moves to her own apartment making plans for studies and future. 

But her consciousness is confused: she can hear the boys talking and she can occasionally see them walking on the street or sitting somewhere, laughing and happy. The longing won't ease it's grip and she doesn't want any help. She decides to die.

One september day she just goes driving and knows, that she'll never return. The end shall be like a long-expected sleep after a tedious day. On the journey there is a stop-check ahead, and she turns to a  narrow side road. It takes her to a village with a small factory, a river and a cafe in a blue house.

Boy is the first-born of ambitious parents: trained ever since birth, always towards next target, better and more complete, always an object of criticism and never accepted, ever inadequate. Boy is 23 and he knows, that nothing is enough. Somehow he is unable to go away from home, tear himself off from his father's circle of influence: his nonexistent self-esteem would break without the whip of a trainer, a goal. 

Finally the pressure becomes unbearable. Boy shoots his parents. First mother and then father. He is free. He knows that the freedom shall only last for a short while: he'll be caught and sentenced to prison, but for that moment he wants to live! He takes his fathers motorbike and starts for the roads of early autumn. He drives until he comes to a village with an old factory, a river and a blue cafe.

The cafe is like a dream: jukebox, that plays the music of your soul, Madame, who knows what is needed, and the air to take you to the realm of secret feelings. Niki and Boy dance, dead souls touch and are awakened. Madame gives them a key and shows them the road: - Follow that road for ten miles and there you'll find peace...

The villa is old, by the lake. One can see and feel the autumn. Fire is burning and those two children, abandoned by life, can love each other for a moment. They tell the other everything they never could say in words - their longing, pain, phantoms and oppression, that destroyed the life of one and the other. And undisguised as well by soul as body  they except life, this  and each other, touch and are one for that timeless, shapeless, stolen week.

The telephone rings in the villa and Madame says: - They are on the way... Boy knows. He tells Niki to take the car and to drive, to drive like the devil, and she goes never looking back. She is pregnant and feels that she just has to go on day by day, choosing what to notice and what to pass, to build a world of her own.

Boy goes to the shore, sees the glimmer of light on the water. He sits leaning his back on a pine tree, lets his gaze wander on the shores and woods, and fires the gun.

who am i????

who knows - not me... and why should i? better not to be, not to know - you do know it is said to increase pain, knowledge i mean...

maybe i am what i have done...  these were the first ones ...

i'm gonna love u till the stars all burn away....

yesssss, that is what i'm gonna do... love u... but who is u????????? Bloody hell!!! I have wanted to love for all my life, ALL MY LIFE!!! Why nobody wanted my love??? WHY???? I was not ugly if not so beautiful either and i was lively, a good lover... WAS??? I am still - nothing lost yet, no depressing imperfects!

Drifter? Yes, i might be one. It is nice to be able to find all u need in almost nothing: fresh air, cool water, something to eat, warmth and a place to sleep. Simple and lovely... somewhere in the sun...

my scale

Some people climb Mount Everest and some can't make it from the morning to the night - it is not even with us, the scale. And what is my scale??? I want to go and I want to stay... to do and to be lazy... to laugh but not too much and not to everything... to love, not everyone but some... to sleep well and be healthy... to think and imagine... to dream even - and why not? It is surely not too much? I might like a good car, central heating to my old and ramshackle house - it is too cold, +16 C inside. I don't like to owe money so i'd like to get some to pay my debts, and some to do something else... And i'd like to have lovers, one at a time but not for too long... and i want to feel the wind on my skin, smell the fragrance of winter or a dog... So i don't want much, just a little, and i do have a right to that. Is it off from someone else? No, i don't think it is... I'm so tired of this non-existing...

It makes me sick. I have rash on my arms. But i'm not going to scream. I'm tired of screaming, all screamers!!! I'm not going to nag, either. Just can't stand it, nagging!!! going on about the same things and again and 'u didn't understand, did u?' Fuck those naggers!!! There are a lot of professional naggers like teachers and social workers and nurses and so on. And there are habitual naggers who nag always - mostly men! Even if they say that women nag but it is a lie... priests are professional naggers, and many others.

I so loved to dance, and to dance with the music, not someone. The music lifted my hands and wrung my body, made it  jump and twist, made it alive!!! Why do i not understand the artistic dance, the aggressive and angular, jerky expression? Why do i like fluent and plastic movement, soft curves and controlled power? Why do i regard hiphop and rap not music but nagging? They are just shortcuts, like foulty diamonds and pearls... Real art is patience and beauty, no screaming but consolation.

Those women who take the wail - what does it mean? It meant nunnery, but today it means islam and hijab or burkha. Why do they do it? To be in peace? Yes, i think so, but it is a dear price of peace not to feel the wind or to see properly or to be ... too heavy a price...  well i have to go now... see u!!!

a hole is a hole is a hole...

There are those absolute moments like holes in time... First thought of reality, but reality doesn't exist really. The holes exist. And time, holes in time... can I go through... maybe someday - or not... maybe i have always gone through... to the walk in pineforest in August long long ago... on the cliffs in the sun and the transistorradio screaming of broken railings and shining rails... Time and Death. And the acceptance, that you allow things to happen.
What they want is acceptance of everything. They are collective and I'm not a part of it. I'm a loner and different. Looking for... looking for moments... moments of light... absolute moment... like... no, not like anything... existing only for seconds, maybe, moments of thruth, love, sorrow and longing...

A supporting experience - what did i think? Funny and tragic.  It seems there is time from this moment to eternity, and then suddenly it is all over. END OF TIME...

so tidy and neat, life away is cleaned...

- U r so lousy and sloppy! Ever gonna be nothing! Could u just restrain that imagination a bit!!! Keep some facts about! And u can't even write!  Well, one can do a lot of things with words - one can crush others or caress them - it is a choise we make every time we use words. Like hands: u can fondle or punch. One word leads to another and the result might come to mind still decades later either killing or lifting. It's truly amazing!

And I do know people who are perfectly tidy and competent, considering every word and never making mistakes! They have no penalties or such, but they'll have a large pension someday... They are bloody smug and stale!!

I knew once  - or knew and knew - met and talked anyway - one Nicolas. He was 80 yrs old and really strict, had always been. And somehow it just had happened so  that in all those yrs he had not once kissed a woman, not once anyone!!! I did not ask about men because he'd had an heartattack. But think about that: what is it like, life, 80 yrs never touching anyone??? And he's not the only one... by the way i know one teacher 55 yrs, an uncommonly pathetic figure in  a similar situation.And there are women, too.  It is a vicious circle: u want to have a romantic and carnal relationship with someone, but each time u think to touch u feel it, sin and dirty!!! It just is so sick, touching...

Why the fuck do we have a life??? For such showing-off minx? No way I'll consent!!! And it aint any climax of developement! No, it's just fruitless delirium and death. Zombielife... What is better in life than to taste someones bacterial growth with tongue deep in throat or sniffing the aroma of pubic hairs? Each with their style but quite useless to try to confine me to fucking dots!!!