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[sunday, july 03, 2005 - love of color, sound and words / is it a blessing or a curse?]
and then, suddenly, you're


bad post-conference depression. woke up from being alone and scared. can't deal with the sudden silence after the bustle of the past days. cried. did the laundry and started to correct the essays. slept for an hour. gym. slept for another hour. dinner. there's so much to write about! the conference went very, very well! i'm too tired to put it all down tonight. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. the lift off was spectacular. we were speeding at full pace. you and me on a space walk. the joy was written on your face. i've never seen the stars shine clearer. i've never seen the moon be nearer. we were floating free in zero gravity. on our way past jupiter. past vega and the milky way. we were lined to each other's space suits so we wouldn't go astray. now we're a million universes apart and the black holes that i pass can't keep up with your heart. i did not hear you cut the line for in space there is no sound. but you suddenly were distant when i clumsily turned 'round. with your heavy moon-boots you kicked me, waved goody and then sent me on an endless space trip while you dock to the ship I'M AT THE EDGES OF A UNIVERSE SO VAST AND I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG THE OXYGEN WILL LAST. IF YOU SEE SOMETHING IN A NIGHT SKY THAT IS CLEAR IT'S JUST ME BURNING IN THE OUTER ATMOSFEAR. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck.

[july 4, 2005 - it's all painted in red it's all painted in red all painted in red]
well, i was not the only one who suffered from post-conference depression yesterday! leyla told me that she did, too. and it surprised her very much because she said that she "felt like a 17 year old after a rock festival". and bernd said he felt like the day after camp holidays had finished.

next week we'll all have a big barbecue at thomas' place in aachen. which i'm very much looking forward to!

okay, so i still have to tell you about the conference. day one went very well: the first day took place at the "literaturhaus" which was a great venue! very classy and stylish! everything went very well! a lot of people turned up, more than we had hoped for. many students even. the highlights on the first day were james williams, leyla (who did a talk on pynchon's vineland and smooth and striated spaces), rosi braidotti and manuel delanda.

the speaker's lounge
the second and third day we moved to the university. but even there we had a very good room: the 'neue senatssaal' which was so full that people had to sit on the floor. it was great and sent shivers down my spine :o) the highlight on the second day was bernd's talk about hobbes and multiplicities. in the evening we all went to a concert by adam butler and after that kim and nieswandt were djing and we had a great time and went out until 2 am. on the third day dan o'hara's, paul harris' and galena's talk were the highlights. i was the first one on the afternoon slot and i think it went okay. the first five minutes i was really nervous, then it went well and it felt as if i had the attention of the audience the entire 30 minutes. the 15 minutes discussion time after that were hell! because the questions were just, well, unpredictable and very, very weird. one guy asked me to relate deleuze's concept of the body without organs to a concept of foucault that i didn't know, so i was totally lost. i think that i did not appear to be very professional.
the saturday afternoon panel
also, all the other papers were much more abstract and dealing more with relating deleuzian paradigms to other philosophical schools and thinkers like kant, heidegger, bergson, husserl, derrida, nietzsche. and the truth is: i don't know anything about philosophy! i felt like a complete idiot while listening to the other talks, because i didn't understand a thing! the only thing which felt really good was reciting the longer cohen quotations in my paper. that was great. and i hope i managed to put some of the love i have for the text into my voice. as last year, johnny golding's talk was very interesting: very laurie anderson like, which i liked.
too much white wine
saturday night we all went to prof. f and had dinner. i had a very long and inspiring conversation with galena, who is really, really nice. she's originally from sofia but doing her phd at harvard now. we were the last people who left and stayed until three in the morning :o)

there's much more to tell. a lot of funny and unbelievable situations. description of weird people and a lot of conference gossip. but i'm not quite sure whether the journal is the right place for it. we were all soooo tired and exhausted today! everybody was yawning and complaining about how his or her bomes were aching!

wish i could write a witty and intelligent description of the past three days. i'd never thought that everything would go so well! i think every single speaker felt very comfortable and there wasn't even a minor accident or flaw in the organisation. as a conference team, nadine, nina, stefanie and i did a very, very good job!

there are so many things i would have to write about that it's no use in even starting. which is a pity, because i would have loved to share them. but it would simply take too long and i'm too tired. also it would hurt the privacy of a couple of people (not that i had ever much about that).

[july 5, 2005 - they helped us...]
predominant feeling today: melancholia. woke up early. went to the office. the seminar went okay: we talked about stanley fish. after that more post-conference organization which will keep us busy the next couple of days. felt worn out and exhausted all day. i was tired and had to yawn constantly. couldn't concentrate and i felt as if i was about to become ill: my bones brittle and hollow and ringing like glass with every movement. also my skin got hypersensitive towards the afternoon and my blood started scouring inside the veins, ripping little imperceptible holes into them, wounding me from the inside. went home early at about four pm then and when i was walking down the quiet corridor some incredible longing to kiss her lips seized me. i had never experienced something like this before. i almost felt her lips physically on mine, there was something like an imprint, a trace, a memory of what it felt like. but it was this 'almost' that threw me off the tracks completely and i was starting to shake and luckily the door of susanne's office was open so i slipped in and started a conversation which saved me from breaking into tears or pieces.
I saw the violet turn to night
I saw the water turn to ice
A thousand snowflakes hovered Ďround me
The world aglow

I heard a distant songbird singing
A song the words i used to know
And as the melody went ringing
I felt my bones on the rocks below
The weighted trees of my only home

With brother sleeping right beside me
The blankets pulled up to his chin
The makeshift snow cave settled slightly
But held us in and sheltered us
Like mom and dad, they always helped us
they helped up
they helped us
they helped us

and yes: i know exactly what you mean when you're talking about loss in capitals. sometimes i feel like a janitor who overhears a lecture by accident: he stops his work, leans on his broom, listens attentively and is fascinated even though he doesn't really understand a thing. 23:38 und "du hast mir das alleinsein verdorben". no new messages on server.
[july 6, 2005 - it's the nighttime baby, don't let go of my love!]
i've been walking around like a zombie that past couple of days. but not only i, thomas, nadine, stefanie and nina as well. we can't concentrate and we don't really care if anything gets done. the office looks horrible: things lying around everywhere and we're simply too exhausted to start picking up. one thing we got done today, however: the university stopped using ftp for uploading pages to the www, so now we have to do it with a ssh program and tunneling :o) it took stefanie and me quite some time today to figure out how it works, but we finally managed. so now we can design and upload a post-conference page with some photos of the speakers. think i'll do this tonight.
Play your stereo loud | You got your headphones on
I see you dancin' around | To your favorite song
Yes who do you love | I want to know his name
Does he feel like I feel | Is he standing in the rain

I'm out in the street | City lights above | It's the nighttime baby don't let go of my love

You come a long way baby | From your days at school
I heard you're really living uptown | I'm just a downtown fool
Now would it be alright | If I took you for a ride
Took you out on the town | Maybe someplace nice

I'm out in the street | City lights above | It's the nighttime baby don't let go of my love

Maybe later on | After the late late show
We can go to your room | I can try on your clothes
You know I'm not the kind of man | To come on so strong
But when you look as good as you do | I knew it wouldn't be long

I'm out in the street | City lights above | It's the nighttime baby don't let go of my love

and mind how gracefully the drums set in in the fourth line! BEAUTIFUL! and of course the first time i heard the song instead of "But when you look as good as you do | I knew it wouldn't be long" i understood "but when you look as good as you do | i know i wouldn't be alone for long" which doesn't make total sense grammatically but it reminded me that, with her looks, she isn't alone anymore.

but i'll try to give the sad thoughts no time and no space: hurrying off to the gym now and celebrating mr. rouse on the stepper. one of these days instead of running away i will return to my old habit of writing songs. and this will make me happy again. and proud again. and i'll remember how to put things into the world. good things. and not just sweat and worn out limbs but things for which it has been worth aching.

mail to paula. it's eleven at night already. rain outside. which is good. i'm not in the mood for sunshine. josh rouse is strumming his guitar and his unpretentious singing makes me moving back and forth on the chair, clicking my fingers. and he feels like he's missing something or someone that he knows he can't have now. and if he isn't i certainly am. something. someone. it isn't really her anymore. or is it? i don't know. it's this some*thing*, the feeling of being home. but when you look as good as she does, you won't be alone for long. it's the nighttime baby, don't let go of my love! i think the conference made me question everything. wieder mal. realizing that i have neither the brains nor the discipline to compare or even keep up with all the people at the conference makes me brood about my job and every time i do this i come to the conclusion that i better find a real job that suits my intellectual capacities better, that i should radically change my life. but i'm too much of a coward to do this. and i love the job too much. and, baby, i didn't care much about these doubts when you were the 'one solid the spaces lean on', when everything that depressed me, that made me sad and insecure was washed away with the simple sound of your laughter and a brush of your fingers and the tickling of your hair on my face. but now it's the nighttime baby, so don't let go of my love. nobody else could make me feel at peace with the world as easily as you could, bonzo! i'm missing this. i'm missing to be at peace.

......................................and again the day ends with the gradual realization that life sucks. fuck.

[september 7, 2005 - i dreamed of 747s / over geometric farms]
a couple of colleagues from the english department or on excursion in london this week. it seemed to take ages until we got news from them this afternoon! they're all well. thank god!

post-conference stuff today. started to clear the mess in the office. wrote to galena. went home in the afternoon. gym. dinner. and instead of reading spinoza on the body i started to watch columbo. changed the channels then and saw an old hollywood version of shakespeare's julius caesar with james mason. which seemed to be a good compromise between my desire to be entertained and my guilty conscience. after that mail to paula and now journaling.

we have started to seriously plan the barbecue next wednesday at thomas' place. really looking forward to it! today nina mentioned that thomas will be only away for four weeks, which i didn't know! i thought he would stay in l.a. until october, but he won't. haven't decided yet whether this is good news :o) no, of course it is!

listening to "nighttime" again. good song. i wonder whether anybody actually uses the mp3s i'm uploading. but i think i really like the idea that people can listen to these songs. as i said, it's a way of sharing. i really have to watch my style. i tend to become all melancholic and depressed again. called princess superstar today and she asked me: "how are you?" and i answered: "i've already been better. but i've already been worse". which is true.

before i fell asleep last night i entertained myself with all kinds of weird and wild thoughts and suddenly i had this fixed idea to get my eyes lasered. you know, i'm *really* shortsighted and i wouldn't survive without my glasses for ten minutes and quite frankly: it's a little annoying. i have contacts, but they're over two years old and i need new one but with the massive cut-backs the health insurance has made i'll probably have to pay them all by myself :o( wonder what it would cost to get an operation. 2000Ä per eye? that's 2000Ä too much. it's the nighttime baby, don't let go of my love...

[july 8, 2005 - it just don't do it / like the feel of a warm, warm body / loving your touch]
shivers and song-fever while listening to joni mitchell:
No tongue in the bell
And the fishwives yell
But they might as well be mute
So you get to keep the pictures
That donít seem like much
Cold white keys under your fingers
Now youíre thinking
"thatís no substitute
It just donít do it
Like the song of a warm, warm body
Loving your touch"
Draw yourself a bath
Think what youíd like to have
For supper
Or take a walk
A park
A bridge
A tree
A river
Revoked but not yet cancelled
The gift goes on
In silence
In a bell jar
Still a song ...
Youíve got to shake your fists at lightning
Youíve got to roar like forest fire
Youíve got to spread your light like blazes
All across the sky
Theyíre going to aim the hoses on you
Show íem you wonít expire
Not till you burn up every passion
Not even when you die
Come on now
Youíve got to try
If youíre feeling contempt
Well then you tell it
If youíre tired of the silent night
Jesus, well then you yell it
Condemned to wires and hammers
Strike every chord that you feel
That broken trees
And elephant ivories
and the way she sings "forrest fire" is so exquisite and powerful!

got another filled out feedback form today. no. 54 :o)

[july 9, 2005 - before i jumpship / for cooler shores / may i gently close this / account of ours]
uhf, what a day. feel as if i'd been stuck in a sack and clubbed ceaselessly. don't really know why. went to the gym this morning and while working out i realized how tiresome it was - more tiresome than usual. when i came home i took a long, hot shower, ate something and then slept for another two hours. and when i woke up, i couldn't really move at all. my entire body aches.

made a cd for paula with mp3s of albums i've been listening to recently: lotion, josh rouse and laura veirs.

talked with various people about getting an operation on my eyes. it's such an important decision. not really in terms of body manipulation but of money. it would eat up my entire saving plus i would have to borrow a considerable sum of money. thought about my motives and motivations. why the hell does that idea pop up in my head right *now*? the obvious answer is that it - of course - has to do with the metamorphoses i'm going through. after the 2001 break-up with somebody i changed significantly: i got the contact lenses, colored my hair and got a new haircut, and most importantly i bought new clothes and developed something which might be called a 'style', largely thanks to the help of princess superstar. i changed everything i could. but only on the level of representation. now, after the 2005 break-up with x., i seem to change on a deeper, material level. contacts are not enough anymore, i want an operation and instead of new clothes i try to remodel my body. with little effect, but still: leaving the level of representation and entering the level of production. wonder what will happen after the next break-up...

got electronic-trouble: my dvd drive won't play audio cds or dvds anymore. and my usb-stick is srewed up as well. i can't even format it. :o(

princess superstar asked me whether i would like to accompany her to a party tonight, but i haven't really made up my mind yet. on the one hand it would be good to get out, on the other i'm really exhausted and don't feel like going out. took deleuze's collection of short "essays critical and clinical" home with me and instead of going out i could read one or two. although i will eventually have to come up with a couple of ideas for the olomouc talk about the hollow earth. think i will use millions of images and just give a short of entertaining introduction without too much abstract theoretical content.

the princess just called. she persuaded me to go out. today's also a display of firewors at the river, so we'll first go see that and then head to the party. don't think that i will stay very long, though.

dear paula. what a weird night. it's two a.m. and i've just returned. getting back home from downtown was a kind of surreal experience, because the underground was crowded with people - as if it were the rush hour! at 1:30 at night. there were even young mothers with baby carriages and everybody was friendly and helpful and the mood was very relaxed and i was standing in the crowd crushed like sardines in a tin box and everybody was either smiling or kissing somebody and josh rouse was singing in my ears: when you come around, baby i've been so blue... tonight was a big firework by the river so that was why the underground was crowded with people getting home. i went there with princess superstar and we sat by the river and watched the sparks and the colors and flowers made of light and every explosion was a thought about x. and a thought about you. wish you had been there [and just this very moment i got a mail from paula :o)] later princess superstar and i went to a party. the moment we entered we knew it had been the wrong decision. two minutes later we were half sitting/half lying on a mattress with a cold beer and the princess whispered:
"this is the biggest gathering of bores that i've ever seen!"
"come on" i said,
"be fair! even you with your x-ray vision cannot give such a severe judgment after only five minutes!"
but sadly, she was right. so after we had exchanged more or less funny remarks for twenty minutes, princess superstar suddenly said:
"now, what is this with you and x.?"
"what?! what do you mean?"
"what do you think about her? you are still feeling the longing to call her, don't you?!"
what sparked this remark was probably that in the last month i had called her (the princess that is) two times in the middle of the night when i had been drunk and she had already been asleep. and the first time it was because i wanted to call x. but i knew that it would be the wrong thing to do so i called the princess instead. but the other time (which was a week ago at the conference-party) i called her because i wanted to actually talk to *her* because the conference team was getting drunk with thomas and prof. f. and i suddenly felt that the princess was missing. so i called her. of course she was asleep already. [well, maybe, but only maybe, i also wanted *a little bit* to talk to x.]
"well" i tried to answer her initial question, "i don't know. i feel like i don't know her anymore and if i met her again i think i would have to get to know here from the scratch again. like she was a stranger. i don't know if it's really *her* that i miss or just everything that was connected to her: more abstract thinks like tenderness and the feeling of home and support and the laughing and the cuddling and the kissing and the conversations."
"hm, but this you can get from anybody!"
"right!" i said "like whom?"
"well, there are enough women here..."
and we both looked around and in my mind i compared every smile i saw in the room with x.'s smile, and tried to find the same depth that i got lost in in x.'s eyes and looked for the same graceful movements that x. made and listened for the same low, calm voice that she had and tried to make out anybody in the room i would feel as immediately attracted to as i had been to x. and after fifteen seconds the princess and i sighed and stared into our beer. so we left after an hour. i felt sexy tonight, and i would have taken the first best opportunity to flirt with an intelligent, good-looking girl. but i didn't saw any (except for the princess, of course). the saddest part: walking home alone. and now i'm sitting here, it's 2:49 and my eyes ache from the contact lenses.

love ain't on my side love ain't special love ain't great
where did you go? i still curse you to this day.
i miss the smile i miss the laughing in my face
when you come around, baby i've been so blue,
and i sleep with the tv on, it's the only sound
now love's gone
need to sleep now. wish i had written a song. don't know why. writing songs has never changed things for me. writing songs has never really helped. but still i have this weird idea that things would get better. that it would bring back love. that it would impress anybody. that it would make me be loved. my mind works on pretty simplistic levels and in astonishingly crude ways sometimes.
[july 10, 2005 - ]
the [sunday] morning started with a call from thomas. he said: "deleuze. dialogues. becoming Negro on page 43." a while ago i had asked him about 'becoming Negro' but he didn't really have a textual reference. i was interested in it because there's a passage in beautiful losers where f. talks about 'thinking that one is a Negro is the best feeling a man can have in this century'. so this morning he had found it and just called to tell me where. which is nice: getting a call from your boss on sunday morning to let you know that he is studying deleuze is *really* something that helps to let you enjoy your lazy week-end :o(

anyway, did the laundry this morning [yes, on sunday morning. i'm a heathen] and the bedcover has dried on the balcony in the sun and it's smelling so great and i took it from the stand and sunk my face into it and let myself plunge into the smell of the fabric and the washing pow[d]er and the sun the sun the sun. it's one of the best feelings in the world.

yesterday night - when princess superstar and i were sitting at the banks of the rhine watching the fireworks - i had a *great* idea which will solve all my financial problems: i will write a historical novel. the title: the artificer. in german: die feuerwerkerin. it's about a young chinese girl in the 16th century whose father is working in a remote province as a pyrotechnist. he dies in an accident when one of his catherine wheels explodes unexpectedly. the girl - being fascinated by her father's profession - takes over his business. first she has a hard time to succeed because of her gender. but then she finds a way to make colorful explosions. before, people only knew how to make monocolored rockets. but by adding certain chemicals she is able to create beautiful many colored explosions. she travels to the emperor's court and at a fireworks contest her breathtaking flowers of light stun everybody. she becomes a royal artificer and gets caught up in intrigues at the court which end with her getting involved with a european captain who is trading with the chinese and who takes her to london. and so on. the perfect bestseller. i'll need a couple of months doing research work on 16th century chinese pyrotechnics, but it'll be worth it. of course hollywood will buy the story and after quarrels over the casting will have been solved a 160 minutes big budget mirramax dolbysurround thx sound movie will be released in 2008 which will win six academy awards: best sreenplay (by me), best director, best leading actor, best supporting actor, best music (philip glass?), best special effects, best costumes. oh, these are seven already :o)

the day's over already. listening to sigur ros' "untitled 3" - so beautiful. almost sweet but then also very weird and disturbing. actually i wanted to write a couple of mails, but i didn't really managed to do so. went to the gym. thought. listened. heard my heart beating. heard my heart beating. heard my heart beating. made the bed. stared into the monitor. put on the headphones to keep myself from hearing my heart beating. i know that i won't be able to sleep when i go to bed now even though i'm dead tired. it's 00:00. i wanted to do so much today. wanted to start reading the deleuze essays. don't know what the hell i'm doing with all this time except for hearing my heart beating. it's raining outside. 00:01. the yahoo! messenger icon is smiling madly next to the clock in the task-bar. the piano is getting louder. so are the distorted guitars. soon the piano will play the pattern that it's repeating one octave higher. now. in-between the music i can hear my heart beating. wish i wouldn't dream about you tonight. did it ever happen to you that you're simply stunned when you realize how much you're able to feel? when you're near-startled by the sheer mass of the feelings inside you? and you think: 'wow!'. and you think 'how do i work this?'. and you think: 'what to do with all of *that*?'. and you say to yourself: 'listen! i can hear my heart beating...' 00:09. what time is it where you are? wish i could hear your heart beating.
[july 11, 2005 - ]
from a mail to paula that i've just sent off:

paula, it's monday evening, a quarter past eight. princess superstar just called and told me that x. has a new boyfriend. that hit me harder than i had suspected. it knocked me right off my feet. it's some guy she knows from work and i think that this has been going on even before our break-up. at least now a telephone call that she made a few days before she left makes sense.

at first i was so angry. i said a couple of very bad things about x. to nicole on the phone, who was startled about my anger. i'm angry even now. fuck fuck fuck fuck. maybe i'm only angry at myself because i had hoped that there would be a chance for us to get together again when she had coped with the problems she told me were the reason for the break-up. i really feel mucked about. at least she could have been honest to me and told me what the *real* reason was. fuck. i hate her. i hate her. i know that it's just my hurt pride but i hate her. i don't hate her. but i, i don't know. it's just all the more surreal now. and more real. it's more final. it's even more hurting. i thought i had left the hurt a good deal behind, and seeing how fast it can catch up with me again let's the little hope that i had accumulated turn into frustration again.

why am *i* always the loser and everybody else is winning? how the hell am i supposed to start another relationship when the only two relationships that had a serious, real value for me ended like this? with them getting a new love and me being left. this really sucks! the idea that she is smiling at somebody else, that she is kissing somebody else, that she is happy with somebody else, happier than she is or has been with me... fuck. fuck. i hate her.

and how strangely my body reacts to that. shortly before nicole called i was really hungry and was just about to fix myself something to eat. now i'm sick and my legs are trembling. fuck! what makes me so angry is that i cannot even cut away what i'm still feeling for her even though she doesn't. what sucks is that i always end up with this disequilibrium of feelings!

fuck fuck fuck. and still it's such a normal, everyday thing. why am i bothering? why am i hurting? this happens everyday and i know that i will get over it. but i hate her. no i don't. i hate myself. and the fucking two years i've wasted with her and for her. do i regret the time we had? right now i do. and i'm only saying this to hurt her. now "untitled 3" of the untitled sigur ros album starts . paula i wish you were here. i want to blast the whole world away. i want to make this fucking planet explode. i don't want this summer and i don't want this sun and i don't want this mild evening and the singing of the birds and the golden sun fuck fuck i don't want anything except for *once* ending up even and not with a fucking bloody loss. why is it only me who has to pay? why is it only me who ends up with empty hands? thank you somebody! thank you x.! fuck! screw you!

i'm sorry. i'm sorry to rave on like this. i wish i had written sooner. i love the poem you've sent, and reading the lines

"I am not equal to my longing.
Somewhere there should be a place
the exact shape of my emptiness -
there should be a place
responsible for taking one back."
makes me cry now. i wish you were here. i don't want to be old, alone and bitter. i don't want to hurt anymore. i don't want to wake up with a panic every morning. i don't want to go to bed empty and tired and hoping that the sleep will be longer than the days i will have to get through. i want here and now a voice that tells me that everything will turn out right and that there is a point in going on. and i want that voice to be real and attached to a body and not just arbitrary letters in a mail. i want you to be here or i want to be with you, running through wall mart, knocking over shelves and creating a stampede of tin cans and coke bottles and just ruining the whole place, throwing stuff around and smashing apples, tomatoes, melons with baseball bats and fuck! why? i just don't see why. and i want a piece of your homemade pizza. and i want to play around with stoney in your backyard and get on a line of flight, become imperceptible and escape . probably the key word in this message: escape. i'm sorry, i'm writing crap.

i'll send off the package to you tomorrow. i don't even understand why i'm feeling like this inside. did i really hope that there was still a chance? i guess i did. some guy from work. fuck! why can other people be happy again so easily and i can't. i don't get it. is it me? i really feel like i've been played for a sucker. i should have laughed into her face loudly the first time she told me that she loved me. wait! she never told me! so maybe i shouldn't complain. fuck. fuck. fuck.

but what a brilliant timing again: she told me that she's breaking up on somebody's birthday and i learn about her new friend on suzanne's birthday. oh yes, i hope you have fun! the problems she had with her life and that made her leave me must have been *VERY* grave! fuck! mich würde wirklich mal interessieren, warum ich immer der kleine dummi bin?

bad day, very bad day.

the last stanza from a poem paula send me the other night:

Listen Ė
all you bare trees
abandoned tires
piles of twigs
muddy bottle shards
shoe half buried Ė listen

listen, I am holy.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
talked to princess superstar on the phone for a long time. made me feel much better. to distract myself i think i'll tell you about what happened this morning: today was thomas' deleuze lecture, and the one thing i wrote down during the ninety minutes was "mental note: kill thomas". and here is why:

earlier this morning i was working on the ibook because i had to transfer some files for the deleuze lecture. and since i have growing problems with my usb-stick i was sort of frustrated after some time and needed to get my mind on other things for a change so i went to get the mail from the office at the other end of the corridor. blaine's office is right across to it, so i stopped on my way back and knocked on the door and we started to talk a little and he told me about all the chaos they experienced last week on their trip to london. when i came back to my office i realized that i hadn't locked the door. and the ibook was gone! my heart stood still! i checked the drawer, i asked stefanie if she had seen it, i asked thomas. but they both had no idea where it had gone. and i thought: this cannot be! i'm such an idiot for leaving the office open and presenting the laptop on a silver platter!

five minutes later thomas came storming into the office with the ibook under his arm and he was winking and said: "see! never leave the door open!" i was *SO* mad at him! of course it was a valuable pedagogical lesson, but i was pretty pissed.

then in the lecture thomas was talking about how art should have the power to disrupt your life and throw you off balance, make you change your habits to bring newness and new directions. "art can throw you into new attractors" he explained, using a metaphor from complexity theory "for example if you're caught in the same old habits, if you're caught in the university attractor here" - and he made a wild arm gesture - "and your home-attractor here. and then maybe also the gym-attractor" and he looked at me. and then he had to grin and had to laugh to himself for the next five minutes. and i thought: 'wait a minute! are you implying that i have NO LIFE?' so i wrote down: mental note: kill thomas! ha! it would scare the shit out of thomas if he knew how many [strange] attractors i have!

well, of course deep inside i felt flattered. first of all because i love to be the center of attention and then because - as the narrator in beautiful losers describes a picture of catherine tekakwitha -: "you were standing among birch trees, my favorite trees. [...] There was a river behind you, no doubt the Mohawk River. Two birds in the foreground would be delighted if you tickled their white throats or even if you used them as an example of something or other in a parable." (3)

i have to stop addressing her. i have to stop using this as a letter. i have to stop including her into my thoughts at all. i have to escape from this attractor. it's over and now let's move on to some happier times! having said this: if you're interested in dating me drop me a line. or maybe you know a friend who is single or you see some girl reading cohen or deleuze in the underground: give her my email address. and i'm not entirely sure if this really is meant as a joke. "it's not that i don't want to / i'm just afraid to fail" josh rouse is singing. i'm signing off. thanks for reading. despite everything. thanks for listening. thanks for having patience.

[july 12, 2005 - and it's easy to get caught / in the way of the world]
hold your breath: from radiohead's video *no surprises*17:57. just returned home and immediately the blues set in. ohohooohoh eohhoh, i've got the coloooogne blueuuues... it's like some molar machine would be waiting in my room that i'm coupled to immediately after i've entered the apartment. i hear the clicking of the connections and then the mindmovie starts rolling and i've got that acid taste in my mouth. it's really amazing how strongly mind and body interact.

or rather: it's like water slowly rising from out of the carpet. it's slowly filling the entire room and the air is getting thinner and thinner. it's really astonishing how my mood changes once i'm alone. i'm trying to work against this mood-swing by listening to uplifting music (right now paul simon's "obvious child"), but it doesn't really help. very weird, how there can be water everywhere suddenly. up to my bellybutton, up to my shoulders, up to my chin, up to my eyes.

today cedric called unexpectedly. talked to blaine and that was good. broke the news to thomas and he made a joke. which was good as well. decided that i'll just cut out that part of my brain that is infected, i'll rip out the cancerous tissue.

"they helped us". getting dark outside and inside. blast! would never have thought that it's swinging back *this* bad. still need to write to paula. spent most of the evening making tabouleh, a salad made of bulgur wheat groats. tomorrow night we'll have the barbeque at thomas' place. "i dread the time when your mouth begins to call me hunter" leonard once said calmly. i dread the time when i'm alone. and i say this calmly as well. i need to have a plan when the panic rises like the water. i need to have an anti-choking machine. a line of flight that is not attracted by the black hole. hm. very weird. who would have thought that there's water even in here? "i had trusted you / like you trusted your father / and now i am / breathing water." i think what it all comes down to is: i hate being alone. and i'm not talking about a relationship here. i mean: being in a room without other people. i hate being on my own. this doesn't really seem to fit to my east-westfalian anti-social soul, i know, but that's the way it is.

from a mail to paula:

thanks for your mail. sometimes it seems to me that from the outside we must look like two cripples caught up in a bizarre dance trying to support each other. when i read your mail this morning i was much calmer. i was at work, and when i'm surrounded by people my mood changes immediately. i lighten up and start making jokes and actually manage to convince myself that it's all not so bad after all!

paula wrote:
> did x. really never tell you she loved you?
she never did. i told her three or four times, hoping i would get the same answer. but she never told me. maybe she really *does* have problems with accepting or showing her feelings. but why is it that always the people who have trouble with their feelings, with their partners, with saying 'i love you' end up in relationships, and those who genuinely have to give away a heart and mind that is overflowing with affection and emotions end up alone? i would say it's ironic, but it isn't. it's only bloody fucking wrong.

> do you really want these women back?
no, probably not. i wish i could have back the peace of mind they gave me, though. i wish i had this peace of mind without it depending on another person. i wish i could give myself this peace of mind. a quiet place. a calm, warm wind. 'on the way to where the water is warm' - which is a line that i stole from a love-letter that somebody once wrote me and i used it in a song. when i played it to her she accused me jokingly of stealing her thoughts.

> if it were up to me, you wouldn't be lonely.
this is one of the most beautiful things someone has ever said to me. do you remember the prose poem you once wrote into my old guest book which doesn't exist anymore?

dear philipp,
i feel like crying or dying.
full moon bares itself in front of me tonight.
i'm in the front yard, stunned and frozen,
leaning heavily on the snow shovel,
wind lifting my scarf like birds' wings.
birds on the ground, walking through the snow in the dark,
crashing into trees.
dying out.
i can't get used to falling.
i'll tie some poems to my shoes
so when i look down while walking,
i'll think of you
and beauty
and perfection
and derangement.
i go missing in my own life,
a query that ends like this -
this is worth more to me than all the "i love you"s that saskia withheld and will withhold forever.

the keyboard's floating off and the monitor is throwing sparks while it slowly submerges in the water. i would say it's like the scene in the hours when the character played by julianne moore is lying on her back in the hotel room and water comes shooting in from under the bed. only that it's not 'like' - it's the exact same scene. i guess the trick is that you have to learn how to breathe water. or maybe simply to read more calvin & hobbes...

just killed a mosquito by a well aimed hit with deleuze's difference & repetition. that's what *i* understand by putting philosophy to a practical use.

take care. feel hugged. be well.

how to make taboulehokay, let's end today's entry with some images of my forthcoming cook-book deleuzian deliciousness and the music that has been playing in the background all along. i love paul simon. i think he's one of the most underrated songwriters of the past century.

I'm accustomed to a smooth ride
Or maybe I'm a dog who's lost its bite
I don't expect to be treated like a fool no more
I don't expect to sleep through the night
Some people say a lie's a lie's a lie
        But I say why
  Why deny the obvious child?
  Why deny the obvious child?

And in remembering a road sign
I am remembering a girl when I was young
And we said These songs are true
These days are ours, these tears are free
       And hey
   The cross is in the ballpark
   The cross is in the ballpark

I've been waking up at sunrise
I've been following the light across my room
I watch the night receive the room of my day
Some people say the sky is just the sky
        But I say
  Why deny the obvious child?
  Why deny the obvious child?

saying that i love him does not necessarily mean that i understand him. so if you have a clue as to what "why deny the obvious child" means, drop me a line. and fill out the feedback form. and please: try the fish!

[july 14, 2005 -
it's ten to eleven at night and i've just returned. had a *great* time at thomas' place and today at the university. lots to tell you about - but not tonight because i'm dead tired. need to sleep now!
[july 15, 2005 - Itís a beautiful world and a beautiful dream / And you know I donít care if things are not what they seem / I wanna be happy, I canít stand the pain / I wanna believe, so tell me again]
it's friday noon and i'm at the office. there aren't a lot of people around, only susanne and jenny. we'll have a coffee later on. i'm glad that someone's here, though. brought my rei momo which always lifts my mood.

other things can, too. got another set of answers (no. 55 already). got a comment via the feedback form which reads:

deleuze is an asshole and a pseudo-revolutionary response to a capitalism that functions better every day with his affirmative, wannabe-radical lifestyle that deleuzians still take as an appropriate response to totally unsolved quesionts concerning wars, economies and other hardcore-mashines. please guys, get over it. deleuze is as cool as the guy with the hat on the kfc-posters.
so that lifted my mood as well and then i also got a very nice mail from a fellow cohen-admirer from canada which cheered me up.

went to the gym this morning. became angry at myself because i realized that all this obsession with the gym was not really because i wanted it for myself, but for other people. does this make any sense? i didn't work out for me, but for her. [yes, i know, i've promised not to write about this topic again...] anyway, this made me angry. i need to get a different approach to life! enjoy it more. live it for myself and not to please other people or to try to catch other people's attentions and affections. neither that of my exlovers nor those of my boss.

the sun has gone and the sky is cloudy. which is good. i'm all for a violent thunderstorm and a rain that will keep on pouring down until december. damit dieser schöne sommer so richtig schön beschissen verregnet wird. if i can't have fun, nobody should!

the sun has come out again :o( it's hot and humid. susanne, jenny and i have just improvised a great afternoon snack: we had little wooden boxes full of berries (blueberries, raspberries and currants) and jenny had two cups of  yogurt which we mixed with the fruits and it was delicious! and half an hour ago blaine came as well and joined us. now it's almost five in the evening and the air in the office is flickering. i can only do mechanical stuff like copying articles or filing papers because thinking is impossible.

the little party at thomas' place was great. we had tons to eat and the salads were all delicious! i didn't know that leyla is such a party-animal :o) so the food was excellent, he people were fun and the weather was great. unfortunately we only had a few hours of sleep because thomas had a seminar at twelve the next day so we had to get back rather early by train. that same afternoon two new colleagues gave a welcome-party for the entire department so i started the afternoon - still having a hang-over from the night - with drinking champagne. after that party was over some of us decided to continue the little get-together in the beer garden, so eight of us still had a beer in the park until eleven.

hm, i think all this might give you, dear reader, the impression as if we were only hanging around and consuming large quantities of alcohol. but after the stress of the conference we just needed some kind of counter-measure. and i especially needed this kind of counter-measure after the past months, weeks and days. especially since tuesday.

anyway, it's good to have all these people. even if they can't be around 24 hours a day and even though there are still moments in which i feel lost, this little ersatz family manages again and again to give me the feeling of belonging somewhere.

think i will head home now. still have to tell you about this great pun that i came up with the other day...

i'm home, trying to keep the water low. paul simon is helping me. "the coast" on repeat.

it's so strange. i read the poems by paula and then every now and there are these incredible lines which i cannot explain. i stumble upon them. i stop. i read them again. and they open something inside me, something like a flower, or something like a wound. and they're just normal sentences, without big metaphors or pathos or an overload of emotion. they aren't even particularly 'poetic' - but there is a poetry going on beneath the surface, and i shiver and i think: THAT is exactly, THAT is exactly, THAT is exactly how i feel. what i think. how i desire. what i long for. and then they make me cry. like the line:

"I should grab you in my
purposeless hands and hold you there"
this is so *fucking* beautiful. and i cannot even tell you why. but this is the combination of words that comes closest to what is in me. i'm trying it with pages and pages of crappy journal ramblings. paula comes along and uses two times six words and they say it so much better.

well, i guess you're really glad that you read the journal, because what the hell would you do without me? imagine you would have to produce a new, meticulously recorded and digitally remastered album of german baroque music and you would be searching for a title desperately. well, search no more, because here it is : handle with care. HA HA HA!!! okay, it was much funnier when i thought it up on my way to the university the other day. and sadly nobody i told it to thought it to be half as funny as i did. mostly there reaction was just a pitying smile :o)

yesterday i saw that friend again who was telling me about his friend (z.) and he said that she had asked him to organize a date where she and i would meet. which i could not believe at first. so i asked whether i had understood him right: "you mean *she* asked *you* if you could fix a date where she would meet me??!?" which he answered affirmatively. that was quite a good feeling: after having been dumped like this to hear that there's someone who is interested in meeting me and spending some time with me. i'll keep you updated about things. maybe :o)

[july 16, 2005 -  If I have weaknesses / Don't let them blind me / Or camouflage all I am wary of / I could be sailing in seizures of laughter / Or crawling out from under the heel of love]
spent most of the morning with housework. finally parts of the apartment look normal and clean again. i didn't take much care the past weeks about the kitchen or the laundry. now it's three in the afternoon and the plan is to get some groceries, go to the gym, read some deleuze, write mails and start working all the suggestions from the colloquium session in late april into the first part of the dissertation. i know: it all sounds like *a lot* of fun. but then i already had a lot of fun the past days and maybe it's time to turn to the more serious stuff.

dreamt that i was running in the park and a dog attacked me and ripped a hole in my jeans. figure it out for yourself.

listening to paul simon's "the coast' on repeat - keeps me floating on the surface, at least for the time being. when he's repeating the chorus at the end he's singing "if i had weaknesses / don't let them blind me" - a line which he later on the album repeats as the opening line of the final song "the rhythm of the saints".

my biggest fear is not that i end up alone but that i end up alone and bitter. which is also the biggest danger, probably. when i read over the entries of the past couple of weeks there's too much self-pity and ungratefulness and what do i know. the other night i was reading leah's blog (the girl from canada who wrote me) and she wrote about how she spent some time in meditation retreat in a kind of monastery. and what she wrote (and how she wrote about it) impressed me a lot. she's much calmer and able to review things with a healthy distance that i'm lacking oftentimes. during the retreat she sat and meditated for hours a day and wasn't allowed to move or talk to people. i don't think that i could ever do this! it would drive me nuts. i would eat myself away from the inside out with bile and bitterness and ungrounded grief. i have this hang zum ungebremsten selbstmitleid, this tendency of undamped self pity - which doesn't make me sexy.

leah quotes leonard cohen about his experience in a monastery: "There was just a certain sweetness to daily life that began asserting itself. I remember sitting in the corner of my kitchen, which has a window overlooking the street. I saw the sunlight that shines on the chrome fenders of the cars, and thought, "Gee, that's pretty. I said to myself, "Wow, this must be like everybody feels." Life became not easier but simpler. The backdrop of self-analysis I had lived with disappeared. It's like that joke: "When you're hitting your head against a brick wall, it feels good when it stops".

i could need some of this relaxedness: a life that's not easier, but simpler. and maybe all my whining and moaning and groaning is just another way of hitting my head against a brick wall to feel the relief when i stop. i've always been so smug about my near sarcastic sense of humor. ha! in situations such as this i have to discover that this is more wishful thinking than anything else! i could need some of the dark humor of rowan atkinson's blackadder who would simply say: "Oh, God. Fortune vomits on my eiderdown once more."

hero of the daylistening to my best of joni mitchell album. during the past months i've listened to the orchestral versions on travelogue exclusively, so hearing the original versions of "amelia", "hejira" and "sire of sorrow" is refreshing. hm, but then there are a lot of tracks that i cannot listen to (yet) because they're just too close to the bone. "love puts on a new face" and "man from mars". again another "spacewalk" connection. actually the first time i heard it i immediately connected it to rob's death. i hadn't lost somebody yet, or x. of course. i always loved the ambiguity of the chorus "man from mars. this time you went too far". which rod did, ultimately. "i called and called. the silence is so full of sounds. i hear them all. i hear you in the water and the wiring in the walls". so she's my HERO OF THE DAY. which will be featured as a new category in the journal from now on.

listened to the travelogue version of "sire of sorrow" on the stepper (great shaker and rimshot rhythm!). great song, great lyrics! and i was wondering whether this is how a friend of mine - who has written me recently about voices that s|he is hearing - experiences these audio-hallucinations. s|he told me how the voices are calling him|her names, mocking him|her and badly insult him|her. of course mitchell is alluding to the biblical story of job, but at least to me the song also describes the kind of struggles that go on *inside* you sometimes. and the beauty of the original turbulent indigo version of the song is that the chorus of the 'antagonists' are sung by joni as well. so it becomes more an inner monologue than a dialogue between job and the "pompous physicians". an inner monologue that i know quite well because job's complaining is exactly what i do all day long ("Let me speak, let me spit out my bitterness-- / Born of grief and nights without sleep and festering flesh. / Do you have eyes? Can you see like mankind sees? / Why have you soured and curdled me? / Oh you tireless watcher!  What have I done to you? / That you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true?") making some abstract transcendental entity (god, fate, life) responsible for everything that's gone wrong and hanging on to a glorified past ("Once I was blessed; I was awaited like the rain, / Like eyes for the blind, like feet for the lame. / Kings heard my words, and they sought out my company.") and i say :

I've lost all taste for life.
I'm all complaints.
Tell me why do you starve the faithful?
Why do you crucify the saints?
And you let the wicked prosper.
You let their children frisk like deer,
And my loves are dead or dying, or they don't come near.
and then sometimes, though not often or forcefully enough, the voices of the antagonists set in: "Oh all this ranting all this wind / Filling our ears with trash // This vain man wishes to seem wise / A man born of asses" and i scold myself for being such a wimp and for my constant complaining which i mistake with creativity.
Already on a bed of sighs and screams,
And still you torture me with visions
You give me terrifying dreams!
Better I was carried from the womb straight to the grave.
I see the diggers waiting, they're leaning on their spades.
(Antagonists: Man is the sire of sorrow. Sure as the sparks ascend)
And where is hope while you're wondering what went wrong?
Why give me light and then this dark without a dawn?
(Antagonists: Evil is sweet in your mouth. Hiding under your tongue)
Show your face!
(Antagonists: What a long fall from grace)
Help me understand!
What is the reason for your heavy hand?
(Antagonists: You're stumbling in shadows. You have no name now)
Was it the sins of my youth? What have I done to you?
That you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true?
(Antagonists: Oh your guilt must weigh so greatly)
Everything I dread and everything I fear come true.
(Antagonists: Man is the sire of sorrow)
Oh you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true.
and maybe what my friend experiences when s|he hears the abusing voices is similar. i have to ask him|her about it.

z.'s friend called and asked me whether i would like to meet him and her wednesday night. gee, what the hell is going on there? i shouldn't get too excited about it. or have too high hopes.

[sunday, july 17, 2005 - He pulls the shade / It's just another sunny Sunday / He dodges the light like Blanche DuBois / Bright colors fade away on such a sunny Sunday; / He waits for the night to fall]
it's the most beautiful sunday evening. i've got a bad conscience, because after i'd been to the gym in the afternoon i fell asleep on the couch and slept for over two hours. which was much needed, but at the same time i'm feeling guilty for having 'wasted' the entire day again. read some deleuze on the stepper, which doubled the pain: not only exhaustion in the legs and arms but also in the brain.

"Heart and humor and humility" He said "Will lighten up your heavy load". i'm lacking two of these. still listening to joni. the most beautiful lines ever written on seeing things in a larger perspective:

In a highway service station
Over the month of June
Was a photograph of the earth
Taken coming back from the moon
And you couldn't see a city
On that marbled bowling ball
Or a forest or a highway
Or me here least of all
You couldn't see these cold water restrooms
Or this baggage overload
Westbound and rolling taking refuge in the roads
watched the 1962 b/w version of The Manchurian Candidate with frank sinatra. wrote to paula. it's midnight and i got to go to bed now. take care. good night. thanks for clicking.
[july 18, 2005 - they like to drive us down the drain at magdalene laundries]
i've been nervous and kind of excited all day long. apocalyptically happy in a way. bernd was at the office and we sang along to josh rouse. which was fun :o) i think i'm that manic because of wednesday. i really don't know what will await me and what has motivated z. to meet me. i'm a bit scared that i'll put too much into it. she probably just wants to spend a nice time with our mutual friend and me. but then i haven't seen her for over a year and why should she know suddenly be interested in seeing me out of the blue. i don't know. but it keeps my mind busy and from being attracted to other things that i don't want to think about. i just hope that this evening won't be kind of decisive. i don't know. i don't even know what i want. wait, that's not right. i *do* know what i want. i want to have this feeling of being home again. of being at peace. of being able to really totally because there is someone with unconditionally open arms. i know - i'm sounding like a bad diary page of some high school girl.

i just think it's not fair that you are happy in bed with some other guy why i am still fishing long blonde hairs from the sink each morning. oops, wrong voice again!

wrote a mail to paula. leah wrote and mentioned me in her journal :o) what else happened? blaine has a hard time as well, these days. seems like a lot of relationships are breaking up right now. it was a perfect summer day again. went to the gym in the evening. read some deleuze on the apocalypse - and can't remember a bloody thing. my memory is so dysfunctional. maybe i can need the article, though. there's a passage in beautiful losers where f. is lecturing on the etymology of the world apocalyptic.

[july 19, 2005 - Enter the multitudes / The walking wounded / They come to this diver of the heart / of the multitudes / Thy kingdom come / Thy will be done!]
heroes of the daywell, busy day. my students wrote the essays today which i will have to correct the next couple of days. this evening i went to an information meeting that the clinic offers that's doing the eye operations. some physician talked for two hours and explained the operation and the risks and the costs. now, to me it all seems to be very professional and legitimate and i got myself a date for an examination to see whether such an operation can be done on my eyes in the first place (depends on the thickness of my cornea etc). so maybe its: "glasses no more!" soon. unfortunately this cry of joy will be mixed with the cry "money no more!"

you know what made my day? when i checked my web-site statistic (which sometimes also lists links that refer to my site) and i followed this new link and ended here: http://gasbottle.blogspot.com. read the "Saturday, June 25" entry :o) !! and i don't even know this guy. this pushed the good old mood-o-meter well over the 6.5 mark for a couple of minutes :o) the lurkers mentioned out of the blue! :o) i mean is there REALLY someone out there who gets out his ipod and listens to the lurkers :o)))))) that fills my heart with joy! ;o) and makes them the heroes of the day :o)

just the other minute leah sent a mail quoting the beautiful losers passage i referred to yesterday:

It is my impression that the above is apocalyptic. The word apocalyptic has interesting origins. It comes from the Greek apokalupsis, which means revelation. This derives from the Greek apokaluptein, meaning uncover or disclose. Apo is a Greek prefix meaning from, derived from. Kaluptein means to cover. This is cognate with kalube which is cabin, and kalumma which means woman's veil. Therefore apocalyptic describes that which is revealed when the woman's veil is lifted. What have I done, what have I not done, to lift your veil, to get under your blanket, Kateri Tekakwitha? I find no mention of this feast in any of the standard biographers. The two principal sources of her life are the Jesuit Fathers Pierre Cholenec and Claude Chauchetière.
it's an almost derridean etymological deconstruction of the word. really beautiful: "that which is revealed when the woman's veil is lifted" - i could make some melodramatic comments about this, but i will refrain from doing so :o) leah pointed me to a beautiful losers' searchable database (http://www.webheights.net/cohenconcordance/searchbl.htm) which i didn't know before. this is sooo cool and can make working on and with the text much easier! :o)

and then i just received the following mail:

dear mr. h.

independently from how my essay will turn out i would like to let you know that i was positively surprised by the content of your seminar. since i have to (and enjoy to) deal with psychology (because of my minor subject) i thought it was extremely valuable to discuss freud's psychoanalytic theories from a different perspective.

unfortunately you will realize this when you read my essay. 'unfortunately' because i fear that i might have gotten lost answering the question. expressing myself in written form is one of my weak points.

i hope that you will enjoy your summer holidays and i hope that we'll not meet again soon (because this would mean that i've failed the test and have come in for a second attempt).

with best wishes, susan van nostrand [name changed by the publishers] (the one who was sitting by the right hand window)

and i thought: "what!?! what is this?" now, needless to say that i really like to get some feedback, especially positive one and especially since the majority of students displayed a cultivated indifference in most of the sessions. but then i thought that it's really strange to write such a mail a couple of hours after i had collected the essays. or maybe it is an attempt to turn me on :o))) wohl kaum, but it's sweet nonetheless :o) i have to consult princess superstar - she's the expert in these matters. would be the first time that a student hits on me. and it's high time! i mean i've been giving seminars for five years now! i can expect some elevated attention from the opposite sex, can't i???!? i don't even know what to do now. am i supposed to write an answer? what would *you* do?

have been nervous and excited all day because of tomorrow night. i don't know how this will end. probably with the mood-o-meter dropping to an historic low because i realize that i again had too high hopes. you see, i would rather postpone the date infinitely, from one night to the next, so that i could keep on fantasizing and hoping and wouldn't have to do a reality check. i think the expression "i'm really looking forward to" sums up my life pretty neatly: always expecting, never actually doing, always anticipating but never putting into practice. i love to retreat to my own little fantasy world which i decorate with all those stories that i tell myself about this person or that, about this comment or that, about this exlover or that. my ramblings about the mail in the above paragraph is the latest example. and z's. innocent idea to spend a nice evening with me and our mutual friend is another one. but in my little twisted world this idea is motivated by an insatiable longing for me. of course the reality check will teach me better and that's why i prefer not to check with reality too often. "ergo this drivel". (and i warn you: if you google this line and follow the link this will lead straight to hell! hey! i was young and needed the money - and yes: this *is* me on the left in the picture. shudder! no wonder somebody left me a year later! boy, i really changed since then!)

and talking of somebody: i really wish i had the chance to meet her again. because it feels like those five years of my life have been wiped out. i really would like to see her and talk to her. sad thing is: she does not want to talk to me. "Who you gonna get to do the dirty work / When all the slaves are free?"

I am up a sycamore
Looking through the leaves
A sinner of some position
Who in the world can this heart healer be
This magical physician
it's 00:32 already. spent the entire night for today's entry when i should have corrected essays. also wanted to answer leah's mail, but i guess i'll have to postpone it until tomorrow. i once wrote: "and this is how it feels like / to have a moebial heart." yes. this is how. hysterical and useless. more fun tomorrow!
[july 20, it's the nighttime baby, don't let go of my love!]
it's 01:19 and i've just returned from the bar with z. and - i guess i can give it away- blaine. it was very nice and i almost didn't recognize z. because it's really over a year ago that we last saw each other. so, how was it. well, i'm sitting alone at the pc now - but that's okay, i guess and it would have been crazy to expect anything else. i walked z. to the underground station because we had the same way and for a moment i thought about asking her if she would be interested in another glass of white wine at my place. but then i thought: "hm. would it really be such a good idea to be so bold?" and to be honest: i'm not really experienced in these things.

what was very nice though, and will give me some food for thought, is that i realized that i really find z. very attractive and there were moments in our conversation when i wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying because i was wondering how it would feel like to kiss her. when we hugged good-bye - rather awkwardly as you might imagine - she said: that was a really nice evening. and i said yes and then i added something sappy like i'm sure we'll meet again and she said yes, we can mail do you still have my address and i said yes i'm pretty positive that i have and i thought what would happen if i just kissed her or brushed away that hair from her forehead but i didn't do anything except standing there with my hands in my pockets. i'm one true casanova.

the best moment on joni mitchell's travelogue? without doubt the last verse of "hejira" - which is one of the best songs ever written in the first place. but on travelogue the last verse is particularly impressive. because she's singing: "i'm traveling in some vehicle, sitting in some café / a defector from the petty wars / until ..." and then she makes a short pause, as if she was hesitating and then sings "...love..." with such a moaning and groaning and grain of the voice that this one syllable expresses all the beauty and pain and every single good and very single bad moment that there is in love "...sucks me back that way".

it's 2:07 now. just chatted with paula for over an hour :o)

[july 22, 2005 - i felt my bones / on the rocks below /  the weighted trees of my only home]
mood-o-meter: 0.5 over the "suzanne-vega-mentions-me-in-one-of-her-songs" mark. it's friday noon already. 'i didn't really sleep at all last night. i thought my heart had mastered the run of the seas. but they appear not to care about calming lately...' sorry, breaking into lyrics again. you know what is really strange: you either have quotations or you don't. there is no gray zone. there are quotation marks or there are not. but often, what you say or think is in the middle, is becoming quotation. or becoming your own words. there should be more shades of quotes. do you know what i mean? like: i didn't sleep at all last night. these are my words, describing a fact. but they are also james yorkston's words. there is a twist in the middle of the line where they fold from being my words to becoming yorkston's and then flowing into the first verse of "st. patrick".

here's what i wrote yesterday. shortly before i wanted to post it something happened. more about that later:

the first thing i did this morning was storming into blaine's office to ask for his retrospective assessment of yesterday night. he said [and i'm not sure whether he was supposed to give this classified information away at all!] that - when i was at the men's room - z. told him that i had even undergone some positive changes since she last saw me. :o) so all due thanks to fitcom gym and especially to my private style counselor: princess superstar.

maybe it's because i didn't have a lot of sleep, but i just want to close my eyes and let myself fall. but this needs time and a lot of work until a relationship has reached a point where this is possible. i had reached this point with somebody and with x. when we broke up. well, when *they* did. i wish i could set in at this point directly with a new relationship. do you know what i mean? going through the time of getting to know the other, of building up intimacy and closeness, all this takes so much energy and strength again. i don't feel like having this. i'm just exhausted. i feel like i've been tired my whole life. maybe it's just my low blood pressure. maybe i am a little pathologically depressive. maybe i'm just a wimp. maybe maybe maybe.

the playfulness has gone. that's something i can't really explain or elaborate on. i wish the closeness, this space which is infinite on the inside even though it is created by nearness and being close on the outside, had already been constructed and i only had to enter it and make myself at home in it. i think that z.'s eyes could provide such a space. 'the exact space of my emptiness'.

the friend of mine who has those audio hallucination wrote and - after i had asked how s|he experiences these moments - described them as such:
i ask him questions sometimes and the voice answers me. he still hasn't given me his name, but he did say that he was a man in the form of a lion, or a lion in the form of a man. which i asked him to explain because either of those scenarios is impossible, but he didn't elaborate. he told me that i was responsible for the iraq war and we had a go-round although i got cowed rather easily, since he threatened to kill my dog if i didn't shut up. and since i still believe that he can hurt the people i love, i shut up. he even threatened to hurt you. it was last week, i think thursday. he was telling me that i was a snake and used my fangs to kill all the good things in the day so that only the bad things remained. i told him he was full of shit. he said, snake snake snake, how would you like your sweetie philipp to twist in the wind? and i said, no no no, do anything to me don't hurt him he has nothing to do with this nothing. and he said, snake snake snake, admit you're bad, and i said, i admit it, and he said, say it, and i said, i am bad leave philipp alone, and he said yes.
chatted with paula again for almost two hours yesterday night. chatting with her is almost like having a 'real' conversation and i felt like we could really have a great time if we met in person. i hadn't been very sure about this before because obviously a mail conversation is something entirely different from a real-time conversation.

so while we were chatting and i was just telling her that i had thought all day about writing a mail to z. i received a mail from z.. she knows about the journal. she has read the journal. she has read the july 20 entry. i thought: OH MY GOD!!! i thought the earth would open up and swallow me! i felt so embarrassed! i got hot and cold and hot and cold. luckily she wasn't mad at me or pissed off but suggested that we'd meet again soon.

so, here we are again, having arrived at the well known problem: what to do with the online journal? how to continue the oj? how to explain that the oj is not a real journal but only an experiment in writing, a pretense to keep writing, a cheap reason to create an alternate personality. i'm caught in my own trap again. sigh.

"big changes are coming. here they come. here they come." i hear laurie anderson singing i my head. in my imaginary head. big changes. big descisions. many possibilities to make mistakes and to ruin it. i must not ruin it! and i don't even know what "it" is. argh! sometimes i really wish i could just switch off my head and navigate through life - for lack of any better term - by intuition or instinct. "maybe i think too much".

going to meet with princess superstar and her sister and her nephew tonight. the baby boy is one year old now and he's called philipp as well "...and he is so cute, so adorable!". by the way: have a look at this [an interview with cedric] and buy this.

it's 00:02 and i've just returned home from princess su0erstar. she poured me two half water glasses of tequilla and i'm pretty drunk now. am really wondering how on earth i've managed to find home on my bike. her sister was there with her baby nephew who is really cute and then in the evening tim came home as well and they made me drunk and i talked mostly really crap i think. the good thing is: when you're drunk you can say whatever you want because people don't take you seriously anymore. anyway. z. mailed (and i'll have to find another 'pseudonym' for her) and suggested that we'd meet on tuesday night and see a movie :o) i was giddy and excited all night and couldn't really concentrate on the conversation because there were so many things going on in my head. called blaine and talked to him shortly. told him that he's the sunshine of my life. and that's true. i have three sunshines: blaine, rpincess superstar and paula. they all cast different lights on my little world but without them i wouldn't know what to do.

what i want to do in the next months: 1. find somebody to build up a lasting and fulfilling relationship with. 2. finish the fucking dissertation. these two things need to be done. period. there's no way around them!

[july 23, 2005 - into my arms, oh lord, into my arms...]
in her latest entry, leah is writing about how much she loves the songs of nick cave. she quotes two of his songs, and one is "into my arms", the one that thomas mentioned the other week as having the best opening line of all songs in history: "I don't believe in an interventionist God". so now i've had this song in my head all day long. or rather: my notion of it, the fragment of a memory because i think i only heard it once or twice. i remember a low, slow, piano based song with a low voice. i tried to download it via kazaa but for some reason this doesn't work :o((((((( so, if you have an mp3 of the song, send it!

i don't know why it keeps playing in my head. and what's surprising me even more is that it doesn't bring me down but makes me almost happy. am i starting to feel ... romantic???? gott behüte! :o)

I don't believe in an interventionist God
But I know, darling, that you do
But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him
Not to intervene when it came to you
Not to touch a hair on your head
To leave you as you are
And if He felt He had to direct you
Then direct you into my arms

Into my arms, oh lord, into my arms

hero of the day: nick cavewish i would write a song again. in other news: received a couple of very good evaluation forms for the seminar. did the laundry. watched conan o'brien. went to the gym but in the past weeks i have the impression as if i wouldn't help anything: i don't think that i'm losing anymore weight or that my body changes in other ways. seems like the sweating is now only to keep the status quo. wrote a long mail to leah. she, too, is currently reflecting on the the clash between journal-reality and the reality of her life.

okay, ignore my request for the mp3. i've been able to download it :o) now, i must say that i've never really been a big fan of nick cave. i mean i know that he is brilliant and that he is an outstanding singer/songwriter - but i just cannot 'connect' to his music. same with bob dylan. but with this song it's different somehow. and the line "i don't believe in an interventionist god" is admittedly brilliant. i think - just like cohen - cave is always more a theologian than a believer which allows him to use all those beautiful christian and religious images in an unaffirming way. which makes him hero of the day.

But I believe in Love
And I know that you do too
And I believe in some kind of path
That we can walk down, me and you
So keep your candles burning
And make her journey bright and pure
That she will keep returning
Always and evermore

Into my arms, oh lord, into my arms

it's almost midnight. i had hoped that paula might be online and that we could chat a little.

later: it's 01:32. can't sleep. am tired though. weird state of mind.

[sunday, july 24, 2005 - i'll pull myself ashore]
it's raining and it's a beautiful and calm rain, giving me the feeling as if i was living in a rain forest. you don't really see the drops, you only hear the sound they make when they hit the leaves and branches and the grass. unspectacular day so far. princess superstar called and we discussed a couple of things on the phone. this morning i walked down to several flower shops because i want to get myself two semi large hollies, but i didn't find any. i still have these two english tin boxes in the office and i think it could look good if i use them as planters. we'll see. gym in the afternoon and later i worked around a little, starting to gather some ideas for the hollow earth talk in september.

listened to my entire "best of" laura veirs compilation. even to "shadow blues" and "through december" that i have always skipped the past weeks because they were too close to the bone. but today i even sang along. subtle changes are occurring.

did i mention already that there's a feedback form you can fill out?

it's almost midnight already. and again i'm not tired. i mean - i *am* tired, but i can't really get to sleep. i lie with my eyes open, thinking about this and that and then that and this again. thinking that i'd love to have a bigger apartment, with a *real* kitchen for example. and a bedroom. and a study. and a living room. it's all so cramped here and ... unrepresentative. what if suzanne vega will come by one day? hm, guess i'm only rambling along because i hope that paula will go online and we can chat a little. just got a mail from leah and she's saying that the moment she started to write to me the random function of her computer picked cohen's "dance me to the end of love". and just when her mail arrived *my* cd compilation started to play cohen's "the letters" - which is such a beautiful song. sigh. "you never liked to get the letters that i sent / but now you've got the gist / of what my letters meant / you're reading them again / the ones you didn't burn / you pressed them to your lips / my pages of concern." and then sharon robinson's low, dark voice sets in: "it took you years to cross the lines of self-defense." it took you years to cross the lines of self-defense. it took you years to cross the lines of self-defense. and you wonder: how can it be that i find myself so completely in a song written by someone who doesn't even know that i exist.
[july 25, 2005 - til you wise up]
it's gotten completely dark in under 20 seconds. black rain clouds have cushioned the sky and right now the rain is pouring down like a tropical waterfall. realized today how 'vulnerable' i still am (the occasion is of no importance, nor are the exact circumstances). but i do think that i still have to get a lot of distance between me and certain voices, faces and thoughts.

waiting for the rain to stop so that i can get to the university. we're socializing tonight :o) and i still have to buy some wine for that.

it's 3:33 in the morning and i've just returned home. in fact: i have escaped because susanne, tim, konnie and jenny wanted me to join them for a final beer in some bar, but i just knew that i had to go home. even though they held me at my jacket and arms i managed to break free and drove home. oh god, i must be charming and entertaining tomorrow night and i have no idea how: i'm drunk now and feel macramated.anyway, the day which has started okay, then went down a little bit in the middle when i heard x.'s voice on princess superstar's cell phone, ended very nicely with most of my colleagues getting together in the xerox-room and partying.

listening to bonnie prince billy "at the break of day". weird life. weird world. missing you and don't even know who you are or will be. i just hope i'm doing the right thing.

[july 27, 2005 - i'll never live the life that wakes me in the night]
it's 23:16. the day has been filled with sunshine and thunderstorms. just right now the sky is lit up every now and then, making the outlines of the houses appear and then disappear again. i am very tired because i only had three hours of sleep last night and i didn't have the chance to take a nap today. also, i'm very confused. this will take some time to explain, so i'll write more about it tomorrow.

"i'll never live the life that wakes me in the night" fiona apple is singing. what a beautiful line. and i think it's true and i think it's sad. you never lead the life that wakes you. that which makes you get out of your sleep with longing and desire.

[july 28, 2005 - i've got to get back to something real with you]
got a comment via the feedback form this morning:
"I do. Sometimes, I do..."
from a chat with paula yesterday night:
paula: hi, do you want to talk?
gilles_plateaus : YES!
paula: how are you? how did things go?
gilles_plateaus : i'm sooo glad that you're on! how are you?
paula: slightly depressed but it's such a beautiful day here. sun, birds, breeze. open windows
gilles_plateaus : we just had the most violent thunderstorm i've ever experienced. i was at the office and suddenly it started... and the water came literally running down the concrete walls and into our office. it was a little scary.
paula: wow. apocalyptic
gilles_plateaus : indeed! why are you depressed? any particular reason?
paula: no reason really... just my brain trippin'
gilles_plateaus : i see
paula: i'll be feeling okay and then it's like a little dark cloud wraps itself around my head. unfortunately the cloud comes from inside.
gilles_plateaus : but the sun as well.
paula: yes, you're right
gilles_plateaus : this doesn't really help, but you shouldn't forget that.
paula: these are the things i love you for
gilles_plateaus : ...and of course for my charm...
gilles_plateaus : and good looks
gilles_plateaus : and brains
gilles_plateaus : and taste in music
gilles_plateaus : and clothing
gilles_plateaus : and literature
gilles_plateaus : and my humor
gilles_plateaus : and my ability to make an utter fool of myself! and to start something with a woman who's in a relationship
paula: aha
gilles_plateaus : i'm sort of depressed my self a little. can't really say why.
paula: how did last night go? if i can ask.
gilles_plateaus : you can. do you have a couple of minutes? because this will take some time.
paula: sure.
gilles_plateaus : okay, here we go... so, i met with anne yesterday night and we went to see a movie. it was called "lovesong for bobby long". do you know it?
paula: no i don't.
gilles_plateaus : don't mind - it's crap.
paula: LOL
gilles_plateaus : parts of it are fun, though. john travolta is playing an aged literature professor who's an alcoholic and living with his former assistant (who's a drunk as well) in some old house in new orleans. of course i saw myself and thomas in this :o) scarlet johansen (??) is in it as well. do you like her?
paula: yes, she's pretty good.
gilles_plateaus : hm. i dunno. i think she looks as if she'd run into a glass door... those lips are spooky!
paula: i never really noticed! i always look at eyes.
gilles_plateaus : LOL! this must be your male side
paula: really?
gilles_plateaus : sure - men always look at eyes as well.
paula: you chauvinist - women can do this too. you goofball.
gilles_plateaus : the women *i* know are always only looking at my ass - but that's a different story altogether...
paula: take a pic of your ass for me sometime then, will you luv?
gilles_plateaus : LOL
paula: me too LOL
gilles_plateaus : i see what i can do. i guess my digicam has a 'panorama' setting...
paula: LOL
gilles_plateaus : so, after the movie anne and i were wandering down the street and suggesting alternative (and better) endings and plots for the film... and when we were standing at a crossing i said: "well, what are we gonna do now?"
and she said "i dunno?"
and i said: "if we want to have a cocktail, there's a bar down the street. and if you just want a glass of wine i have some at home."
"i think a glass of wine would be perfect" she said.
so we walked to my place which was just five minutes away.
paula: cool
gilles_plateaus : in the meantime it was about 11pm. when we arrived i showed her through my apartment , which took about 0.5 seconds because i really only have one large room. however i had spent all day cleaning and picking up and doing the dishes
paula: good boy
gilles_plateaus : "always be prepared" is my motto!
paula: you boy scout you!
gilles_plateaus : so i lighted some candles and i put on some music. i opened the wine and we emptied the bottle and talked about this and that. and it was really nice. we're on one wavelength. there's nothing worse than awkward silence in a conversation, but there wasn't really any. i hadn't really eaten a lot the whole day so i realized that the alcohol started to work pretty rapidly. i'm not used to drinking wine so after two or three glasses i felt that i was drifting off into a parallel universe... which was fine with me. we sat on my couch. she left.
paula: wait
gilles_plateaus : i right.
paula: oh i thought you meant she left, as in left the apartment. sorry.
gilles_plateaus : no, left as in opposite from right
paula: gotcha
gilles_plateaus : okay, we talked until about 2:30 am. mostly about our jobs and some people we know. then she asked me: "do you have a balcony?" she had only then seen the french window.
"yes" i said and so we went outside.
it was very quiet.
there was no wind.
it was mild and warm and cloudy.
we instantly started to whisper while we were looking into the dark. then i realized how she was beginning to lean against me... at first i thought she might had lost her balance because of the wine. she leaned over to me and i felt the weight of her body on mine and expected her to back off again. but she didn't. i was standing next to her with my arms crossed in front of my chest and i thought: "for christ's sake! you can't just keep standing there like that!"
so i took her in my arms.
at first she just leaned her head on my shoulder, then she turned slightly and put her arms around me as well. i was stroking her head gently and then we kissed. we stood there for about twenty minutes. then we went back in again and i think we both didn't really know what to do. i told her that she might stay if she wanted. but she said that she had to get back home. because of her friend.
paula: oh.
gilles_plateaus : yep! my sentiments exactly. she's together with him for eleven years. two years ago they were even planning to marry.
paula: did she say if she's going to break up with her friend?
gilles_plateaus : sigh. not really. i don't even know if want her to. at least not because of me! if she breaks up with him it must be because she does not love him anymore. but not because she loves me.
paula: i see what you're saying. it makes sense.
gilles_plateaus : i don't want to be the reason for their break-up.
paula: it's very unselfish of you.
gilles_plateaus : and yet she told me that she first had doubts about their relationship when she saw me at blaine's party two years ago. which is very flattering.
paula: yes it is
gilles_plateaus : but not really what i wanted to hear.
paula: no?
gilles_plateaus : no. i don't want to destroy anybody's relationship. it has happened to me and i don't want to do this to other people.
got a request for a 200 lurkers cd from oxford :o)
oh boy i'm drunk. went to the bar with princess superstar and had too muc beer. now i'm sort of euphoric and sad at the same time, i've got michelle shocked's "come a long way" in my head and i wish i could call anne or talk to her or see her. it's raining but it's still hot outisde. it's 23:28 and my fingers type automatically. i've come a long way, i've come along way. i don't know if this is good, is it good to write this: the way the lamp was swuinging in the wind wjhile we were sitting in the bar and the rain was blown over the doorway and onto the wooden boards, there's no way to write down everything one sees and feels, all the beauty in those little things, those tiny things - all the world.

okay, have no idea if i can tell you thins, but anne's friend (z.'s real name is anne) has found out 'about us' - he has found out that she has been seeing me. she sent me an email today and said that they (she and her friend) were trying to find out whether to continue the relationship. so i'll have to wait and see what will happen.

I've come a long way
I've come a long way
I've gone 500 miles today
I've come a long way
I've come along way
And never even left L.A.
I've come a long way
I've come a long way
I've gone 500 miles today
I've come a long way
I've come along way
And never even left L.A.
And never even left L.A.
And never even left L.A.
just got another comment via the feedback form: "COMMENTS = what's all this supposed to be? life according to the categorical imperative??"

hm, don't really think that the online journal is about life in the first place. but that's just me.

but i don't really think that it has to do much with the categorical imperative  - assuming now that the comment refers to the above statement that i don't want to destroy a relationship - as with some general respect for the feelings and lives of others. maybe i just identify too much others. maybe i just identify with victims. maybe i think that sparing others would spare me. even though it never did, now that i think about it. you see - i should hate kant because he's not really deleuzian (at least that's what i understood so far) - however there is in deleuze this general acceptance and respect for life. for *a* life. and relationships are living things as well. i think i can be selfish. i think i am  a little egomaniac and i am self-centered and egoistic. but there are certain areas and situations where i'm surprised about myself because i'm suddenly so unlike myself. and interfering with other people's relationship clearly belongs into this category. would you advice me otherwise?

it's 00:28 in the meantime. need to get some rest.

[july 29, 2005 - i've come a long way / i've come a long way!]
space shuttle disasterC | G | dm | F. so simple. not even a verse and chorus variation but a simple repetition of the four chords for almost five minutes. and still what a powerful song! it gave me an incredible solid rocket boost on the stepper this morning and i felt the pressure inside me rise and my skin sparkle and my head was almost bursting and exploding like a space shuttle disaster. it all started yesterday night:  i was out with princess superstar and we were sitting in a big, wine-red couch in an art nouveau bar and it was hot outside and the dry wind came blowing through the room and the glass lamp that was hanging from the ceiling started to swing back and forth gracefully and then the rain started and it was blown over the threshold of the open door and onto the wooden floor and suddenly i had michelle shocked's "come a long way" in my head and i felt so at peace and happy. i thought about paula and about anne and about x. and thomas and somebody and everybody else i know and the music in my head was like the closing music of a film and it might have been the alcohol or the lightning outside or the site specific atmosphere of the bar or the company of the princess - but i was really happy because there suddenly was a boundless love for the old and a notion - if not a promise - that something new will happen. and i didn't want to swap places with anybody that moment.

can't really explain why i have this manic phase. there's no real reason: i had planned to write that hollow earth talk for the olomouc conference this week-end (that is: fri, sat, sun) and one day has passed already without having put down a single word. just checked the list of participants for the seminar i'm teaching next semester: twelve students so far. eleven female, one male. seems that "literary theory" - which is the topic of the course - is a girl's thing.

sigur ros' untitled album is playing and it's raining and the thunder comes sweeping over the roofs occasionally, making my little apartment even cozier.
much later
it's 03:06 in the morning and i've just returned from hanging out in a (gay) bar with blaine, which was nice. we talked about relationships and music and our relationship to music and music in our relationship. paula mailed. she signed her mail with 'miss tinsel' which i might call her from now on :o) incredible feeling when i drove home through the night with michelle shocked in my ears.
[july 30, 2005 - i hoped that you would come / i gave you my address]
last night when i had returned i realized that i had a voice message from a slightly drunk princess superstar :o) she made some cryptic remarks that it was one thirty at night and that this call was the revenge for the various times in the past weeks when i had called her in the middle of the night when i was drunk. she said that she was forced to listen to joe jackson (her friend had invited a couple of friends and they were dj-ing) and that the music would remind her of the 200 lurkers and that the lurkers were "at least as good, if not better"! as i said: she was a little intoxicated, because of course the music of 200 lurkers is nothing like joe jackson. completely different and non-comparable. however i felt flattered that she thought that the lurkers had a professional touch :o)

on thursday night when princess superstar and i were out we at some point talked about a 200 lurkers concert. it's something i would really, really love to do. but it would take quite a lot of time and money. i would have rehearse like hell. i would need someone to supervise the sound and the samples. i would have to rent a venue. i would have to rent an audience :o) but i would just *love* to do it. maybe only eight or nine songs. preparing the 'kind-of-a-concert' for x. early this year was fun. and i realized how much i enjoyed playing and singing.

the professor and his assistant (who is probably wearing a deleuzian-events t-shirt)got a message from mia via the feedback form today, which was nice:

COMMENTS: it was so funny when i read what you wrote about "bobby long" - such a similar experience... yes, i think it's crap and sooo boring. but when i saw the movie two weeks ago it reminded me of you and thomas as well. *giggle* the question really is: who's that girl? (and: are you such drunks??)
also i want to thank you: for the very romantic description of you first date with z... so emotional, i could almost see it like a movie scene. well written!
good luck,
mia w.
hm, i think the girl is probably anne-marie, our secretary :o) or blaine. we're not drunks (yet). thomas hardly ever drinks any alcohol. guess it's because he's afraid of losing his self-control. i, in contrast, drink a lot of alcohol because i love to lose my self-control :o) and i would never write a book about thomas. and we don't have such an intimate relationship as the two characters in the movie have. not by a long shot. in fact we never really talk about personal matters. unless they are mine and thomas can make fun of them. however, taking a closer look at the screen shot i think that the physical resemblance between bobby long (and who came up with such a crappy name anyway?) and thomas *is* stunning :o)

fuck. my mp3 player is broken. it won't connect to the pc anymore :o( i'm listening to all those songs which i couldn't listen to for months. just now k's choice's "favorite adventure" is playing. no use in describing it. it's sweet. it's very uplifting. bright chords. airy guitar. rolling, brushed drums. beautiful melody. and then, after the bridge the last verse sets in with these breathtaking backing voices.

There you are, your beauty consoles me
I've come far
And I almost didnít found you
And I almost lived without you
There is nothing in this world Iíd rather do
Then live in you

Here we go, our favorite adventure
You should know
I was never more complete
And Iíd never thought Iíd see
The meaning of my life
wrapped in you next to me

If you ever fear
Someday we might lose this
Come back here
To this moment that will last
And time can go so fast
When everythingís exactly
Where itís at its very best

and no: i'm not mad enough to project this onto anybody. yet. but the sheer notion that it's free floating, that it has been disconnected from one certain face, one certain voice, one certain person is enough to make me smile wildly while listening to it. and to have hope. which is a feeling i should enjoy as long as it lasts!
[july 31, 2005 - singing again, sing, sing again]
boy, just realized that there's still a lot of rage in me. listening to the fiona apple compilation that eva did for me years back and it was just some background music playing along while i was doing the washing up until "get gone" started. wow! and it's probably driving the neighbours crazy because i've put it on repeat and turned the volume up and singing along to it, singing again, sing, sing again.
i'll idealize, then realize
that it's no sacrifice
because the price is paid
and there's nothing left to grieve
fuckin' go
cuz i *do* know what's good for me
and i've done what i could for you
but you're not benefitting, and yet i'm sitting
singing again, sing, sing again
singing again, sing, sing again
it's time the truth goes out
that she don't give a shit about me
oh boy! this software is SPOOKY! earth.google.com. it gives you a high resolution image of the entire earth made up of satellite pictures and you can zoom in to any given point so closely that you actually see houses, trees and cars!

started to work on the hollow earth talk. called princess superstar because she's leaving tomorrow morning to teach german pupils in england for two weeks. hm, this fiona apple song is really beautifully produced. you've got to listen to it via headphones. great bass! and great drums. also some glockenspiel :o). i'm sorry. i know i shouldn't post so many mp3s. but the song is just great and i want to share it! maybe it's also because i want to sing this, to shout this, to scream this into your face. CAUSE I *DO* KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR ME! AND I'VE DONE WHAT I COULD FOR YOU!

and what a great song to end this month with.