Sonnensegler.de

Sometimes I think there’s not enough words to tell what I want to say.
Like I could talk and talk forever and not get to a point. When all I wanna do is talk.
Today, I feel that way.

I guess it means more senseless talking, I get used to it, scary, isn’t it?

I don’t know what’s with the life I live, but it’s making me shiver. And my sore is throat. And my stomach aches without real pain.

I guess today I’m allowed to be that way. And some time in the future, too.
Still, I find it hard to balance between pain and pleasure. It’s bothering me so. I can’t be happy for too long. Sometimes I get so serious about things. The thought of not being sufficient just waves into my head and locks me up I become all petrified inside.

Or maybe I’m just that emotional. I get caught by little fractures nobody else except me notices. So why?

You remember the old patterns I talked about? Like slipping off of them wasn’t that easy to do? It’s the history. History was safe. History was close knowledge. Though I’ve moved a thousand steps forward by now, I think.

Okay here is what I feel like: I feel like hiding underneath my blanket forever, and listening to the rain for a while, with a warm cup of tea in my hands. Like I used to do in Kiel. But this is here. And I’m restless. When I let myself go for an instant, I’m afraid I could get lost in it. So I’m avoiding constantly. I’m avoiding drifting to the borders of mental ability. Like being myself too much (you need to be upright and tough) or being it least. Inbetween I am the image produced in everyone else’s head.

Jerome K. Jerome is saving me a lot. I get to laugh and forget for a short while while doing the train journeys.

Actually I’m not feeling like running away, it’s just that I can’t bear staying right here either. The more life comes to me, the more I get scared.

I get scared of this, but of what? Can anyone explain my head and my ridiculous thinking to me? Please?

It’s Newton Faulkner now. Or it was Michael Bublé, “I wanna go home”.

And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
Oh, let me go home

edit// later, now, it’s chilled ibiza gold and ‘black cherry’. there’s a cup of tea in my warm hands. this day was way too long. 🙂