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Friday, March 5, 1999
When I couldn't sleep last night i thought about writing. writing and reading. i remembered reading those lines from "the passionate eye" and how they made me want to write again. i haven't written stuff in such a long time. and i thought that i had not written in my diary for a long time and that i might do it with the word processor. and then i thought i might as well do it online. do it publicly. i mean, why not? if i cannot be an artist i can at least be an exhibitionist.

so this is my attempt of an online diary. we'll see whether it works. i mean i can also include pictures and sounds and stuff. perhaps doing it online is more fun, perhaps doing it online makes me write more regularly...

i also though about writing in english as opposed to writing in german. i think i'm gonna do both. but i will stick to english most of the time because i nedd practice. and because it's a sort of protection. there's simply more distance in english. from what i'm writing. and perhaps from the people i'm writing about.

so here we are: it's the beginning of march and it's almost spring outside. i've benn working like mad all week for the chaos/control:complexity cdrom. which meant sitting in front of the screen for hours and hours until i was totally besides me. i have also been working on the sisv project and the last couple of days i've received new contributions, including some very interesting ones. fatima's is quite good. very creative music. and it made me worry about my contribution. because i haven't really started yet. i think i'm a little afraid of it. like i was afraid when we had new music and rob and daniel wanted me to write the lyrics. i always was scared because i thought i couldn't do it anymore. so i never started. it's the same kind of feeling. this fright that i might disappoint myself when i start recording and it turns out to be just really bad music.

ich habe neulich nochmal rosemary gehört und es war so perfect. es war so gut da´ß ich dacht: vergiß es, mach was anderes oder am besten mach erst gar nix. aber ich will. ich muß, es ist so wichtig für mich und ich weiß nicht, warum. ich will es beweisen. ich will beweisen, daß ich gut bin,  irgendwie ist es wie eine bewerbung und da ist die hoffnung, zu gefallen. i don't know how to win your heart and this is the most frightening part: i don't know how to win your heart!

nächste woche: auftritt. im chattanooga. i don't think that a lot of people will be there, and maybe that's a goodd thing. it's the first performance with our new guitarist. and it's the first gig since rob has died. i just pray that it works. because if it doesn't the band will just slowly and painfully fade away. rehearsal went well, some of the songs even got me carried away. like cultural studies II. it really was full of energy and the new songs simply are good. i'm so sure about them and i'm so proud of them. i know that we made a pretty good record! i know that "a star after me" is a good record with good songs and good lyrics. and this makes it even harder to creep along like this. it would be easier if i knew that the songs are crap - but they are not.

RECOGNITION! that's what i want. finally. i finally want you to stand up and say: yes i like it. that's all i want to hear and that's all i've ebbn woir  been working for, that's what makes me get up in the morning and that's what keeps me writing. writing and writing and writing this.

Sunday, March 7, 1999
read the mail about the ny book signing. wish i had been there. wish i once was where the important things take place. i feel like being away from everything that i need to change. seem sthat, if you take took anything that's important for to me and force it into a small plastic bag (like the music and the words and your smile and the memory)and place it onto a table in an apartment in a city of your choice, then i am on the opposite side of the earth. i can#t reach it. and if i reached it would it reach me?

I'm complaining too much.

read more of the passionate eye. good writing, very good writing. it makes me want to write. it made me write this.

i'm tired. i'm waking up early every day, feeling restless. because there's so much to do, which is good. it's good to be busy, keeps you from thinking. am i negative today?

Joni Mitchell is singing hejira. and i've got nothing to say

Monday, March 08, 1999
Heute nacht: aufgewacht
I had this strange dream and it was very strange indeed, it even was a little scary:
I was at my parent's house and there was a party of some sort. And I was there and I was young and a lot of people were there which did not notice me. I realized that a part of my front tooth was gone. And then the whole tooth started to crumble. And all my other teeth started to crumble, too. They just turned to dust and I took some water to rinse my mouth and there were these tiny teethpieces in the water along with the goldfillings I have and I thought: god, what is this I have left left left all my teeth they are all gone there was just one row of molars left they were still there but the goldfilling had gone and I was touching it with my tongue and my tongue went through these teethruins which were hollow and which had sharp edges and I did not know what was going on and I went to my parents and I showed the toothdust to them and the goldfillings and they did not know what to do and I was afraid that I had to go to the dentist and it was so real it was so real it was so real that I was biting out aloud, loud, and they were still there, loud, and I woke up and I was afraid of the pain, I was afraid and my teeth were chattering and they were still there and it was only then that I realized that it was dark all around me and that it was a dream but it had been so real and I was afraid I thought what happens now that I have left my teeth how shall I sing? And I was biting out loud and I woke up.

I. woke up, too, and she asked me what was wrong because I was breathing  heavily and I told her about the dream I just had and she told me that she had read in a book that the loss of teeth in a dream refers to the fear of losing a relationship or a person. And she said that I had had this dream before, right, and I said, right, I had such a dream before and I thought that it might have been because of Rob, because I have lost him and all that was left were the ruins of our songs, some goldfillings which are worthless without him, and the teeth are scattered in my hand now and I don't know what to do with them and I am afraid of the pain I am afraid of the pain I am afraid of the pain.

This has been last night and I'm feeling sick now and I can't write as fast as the fear is raging through my mind and my chest and I just can't grasp it and pin it down and put it into words and this makes me even more scared this makes me even more afraid and the transmission of feelings into words is so slow and way too clumsy and not what I want not what I want it to be not what I want to be. And I am afraid of the future. Will you ever believe me? Will you ever believe me this? I am terribly afraid every morning and every night and whenever I let myself think and whenever I allow myself to feel I am afraid that all my dreams that everything I want to be will never come true can never come true. I was so close I almost felt how it is it was almost perfect but now it's gone and you're gone and all that's left is the f-word, the fear, the future which is the same which is the same I tell you and I don't know how to win your heart  and I don't know how to win your heart and I don't know how to win your heart and this is the most scary thing I don't know how to win your heart and I don't know why I'm putting all my hope all my hope all my hope on you I don't know why, why do I think you could give me back my future?

Now it's raining and the cars are driving by outside and my thoughts are settling and I realize that this is the worst thing: that I cannot come with you. Everybody is going where I cannot go. Everybody is leaving and I cannot follow. They told me you would come but I know that you will leave, too, you will leave and I will not leave but I will be left so WHY DO I THINK YOU COULD GIVE ME BACK MY FUTURE?

It is raining tiny, wet and dirty drops which are falling chaotically through the air and onto the trees and onto the street where they're exploding like parachutists whose chutes haven't open in time. And you might think that I have lost my mind but my mind has lost me and I'm falling too and I'm afraid I will explode. You are everything I ever wanted to be and this is as condensed and as true as it will ever get: You are everything I ever wanted to be. And all I know of you is in my memory and all I ask is you remember me

Tuesday, March 9, 1999
Well, I've been sitting in front of the monitor all day long, formating the contributions for the chaos/control:complexity publication. my eyes hurt and my head aches. the music doesn't make me happy anymore today. it's 7.30 pm. im a bit nervous. on friday we'll play our first gig since rob has died. it's a strange feeling.it's such a strange feeling still being alive and he: dead. i heavily avoided thinking about it the past months, but now and then it just too overwhelming and im starting to think and im starting to worry and the memories and the sadness are comeing back again. it has stayed with me since that day in october. it has stayed with me and it doesnt feel as if it will leave again. its like an animal, like a cat that chose to stay with me.

sometimes i wish he was here. when im listening to a song, when i need that

there is no song terrible enough to meet the loss which made my life explode quietly. where are you inme? i want to hear you but i do not hear you, i cannot hear you, ive been silent all this tme but i cannot hear you. you have simply gone and there is nothing left. nothing that isnt hurting. there is no song and there is no music and there is no sound left of you.  and i couldnt even say goodbye. and im missing you so, im missing you so much

Wednesday, march 17, 1999
It's I.'s birthday today. She's at work right now and I'm sitting here uncertain what I sahll do now. Something went wrong and now I cannot post to Undertow anymore. And I don't get any mails either.
I'm listening to "Blumfeld" right now. The new album is , well, I can't say really whether I love or hate it. It's different from the one before. Maybe I have to get used to it. We wanted to go the Blumfeld gig yesterday night but their drummer is ill so they canceleed the gig. I. was very disappointed.

I want to write. i want to create. i want to be proud again. Yes, that#äs the poujnt
that's the point: I want to be proud again.

how can i write when i hsave no words to write when i have nothing but the will to write. the will is not enough. So i listen and i read and i'm stealing words and i take them out of these beautiful songs and out of these beautiful poems and claim that they're my very own and i rearrange them and it's just crap.

i sound like a spoiled child. Die Frage nach Sinn wird als Antwort zum Verstand.


The concert was the most humiliating experience in a long time. I don't want to report about it. There was no real pa system. i couldn't hear my voice, neither could the audience. nobody was there except for the three or four friend we brought. no one was there. how do you cope with the experience that all you've done and all that is you doesn't say or mean anything to aynody else. Narcistic self-cricling around my own head and then the wish to explode into whatever you have done and to melt into your song and your word and your god.

acting insane doesn't make things easier.

March 21, 1999 (Sunday)
Worked on Stuff Inspired by Suzanne Vega all day. Yesterday I recorded Rosemary. I'm pleased with the result so far.

It's gray outside. It's not raining but it looks as if it would start every second. permanent threat. Blumfeld got me thinking, Blumfeld got me writing again. Despite of my daily shower I'm feeling greasy and sticky and nicht wohl in meiner Haut. Blumfeld got me thinking. HAve I said this before? HAve I said this before? Want to write, listening to these songs, these beautifully crafted songs makes me aware and makes me realize what I have lost, what i cannot do anymore. i've been thinking about rob all the time. permanent threat. I feel like being cut off from a source, i feel like being cut off from my aim. my destiny and destination have vanished: this is the genuine Tired of Sleeping feeling: I wonder when I'll be waking, It's just that there's so much to do and I'm tired of sleeping

We tried a new song on Thursday. But it did not went the way it's supposed to go, it wasn't like it was used to be. It was clumsy and feeling of mutual, silent understanding was missing. But the way we were working before was unique and it's probably unfair to expect this kind of working atmosphere now that Rob

I'm avoiding "The Passionate Eye". I know it#s strange but I avaoid reading the book, perhaps because it would start this urge again, it would start this longing again. This feeling was once precious to me. It once was what I have been searching for: for this kind of energy that makes you write that makes you sing that makes it impossible to sit still and simply consume.
But now I'ms care dof this feeling, I'm scared that I cannot use it anymore, that it will be locked inside me, that it will rage through my body and I unable to release it, unable to transform it into a song, a word, a melody. I'm afraid that what I once was feeding on will now eat me. it's burning in me and i all in flames.

And again I'm complaining.
Es ist so still. Ich hör Dich schweigen. So schlägt mein Herz und warum hast Du nichts gesagt es hätte auch für Dich geschlagen es hätte für uns beide gereicht für dich und mich

A new year, a new day, a new mourning.With my lack of words for all that hurts my need for you is growing like the flowers on your grave.