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I´m feeling weird today. With every trip, my return to home becomes harder. I´d rather vanish into the air. Life is so light and carefree in the distance. Plus I am inspired by my very own surf instructor who doesn´t need anything else but the sea and his dogs. Jesus, that´s overkill. So I have to ask myself: Am I running away? Or is a “normal” life just not the right solution for me? Perhaps I have to become a hippie or a circus pony. And there we are again at the split of mind and heart´s decisions.

Actually this is rubbish, my life´s perfect. I had a blast and drinks from backstage at Mystery Jets´ concerts, I performed a side kick against a wave (and lost) and I made friends with cool people (and a bunch of mosquitos). I am thankful for that (unless the mosquitos)! All my doubts are just a quick flashlight of confusion.

PS: I can´t take any pictures cos both cameras don´t work. 😦

… is one damn cool trip. In 20 years I will remember today and tell myself that this was paradise.

MEIN LEBEN
… ist ein einziger saucooler Film. In 20 Jahren werde ich an Heute zurückdenken und mir sagen, dass das das Paradies war.

Right now I am having quite a hectic discussion about dancers and their being as “sex-decoration”. That´s how the “other person” calls them disrespectfully. And lumps them together with people who sell their bodies for money and uses words like “cheap” and “tasteless”, “bad example” for the next generation. OF COURSE I had to face this witch-hunt a thousand times at universe, from audience, even friends. May they think what they want, but I´d never expected this from an artist. A young promising person who comes from the literature scene with a feeling for a fascinating performance. And who should know that first comes research, then opinion. I am so dissapointed, they are actually insulting the women´s body and it´s way of expression.

The problem is not the girls. The “bad expample” is a matter of projection. Some consider the dancers as heros, others as whores. But do they honestly think, this is reality? No way, the reason for this “horrible image of a woman” lies in it´s viewer. In people like them!

I consider the dancers as what they are: As (in this case) self conscious people who are proud of their body and who don´t want to hide it. Who stand for their sexuality and are not ashamed to play with it. If you ask me, this is the only good example for women/men no matter what generation. Anything else is repression and discrimination. I will never let myself repress either. And just for the note: One of the dancers  is a doctor, another one a teacher, a third one is an artist at Städelschule. But how do the others know, when they refuse researching and listening?

This judgemental thinking is so not consequent, because all young artists need freedom and respect for their work, if they have the balls to be edgy. But only literature deserves respect, or what? God, this makes me … disillusioned. I never felt free but I believed in young art/literature made by intellectual open minded people to help me fight for freedom for body and mind. Well … that was that.

I´m gonna have to write about this, when I geht back from Portugal. Because this is where I am right now: Lisboa! Damn, I couldn´t be any happier.

This post is dedicated to my ‘deco-people’, who you just have to love, because they are wonderful AND with a soul so deep, you might get lost in it. Can you believe that?
Now I´m going out celebrating my (half) freedom.

We love love love the other half of the 24 hrs.
When sun goes down it withtakes the outerworld.
The worldly templates
crawl under the blankets with the people´s voices.
Now that reality is sleeping,
what´s it all about?
We can´t see the street signs anyway.
We don´t want to go straight anymore.
We can go left, no right. No left AND right,
draw curvy lines and stirring loops.
until we reach the woods.
Here in the blurry black
we discard our coats and slip in our current bodies.
We choose
the pixie, the bear, the lion, the circus pony.
to dance and fly and whirl with the wind,
And we loose
the past, the future and our – so called – selves
to flow just with what happens next.
We are the purest we
that could ever be.

Sometime the sun peeps over the horizone,
and the first voice resounds
like a wake-up-call for ordinariness.
As soon as the next 24 hrs begin
it´s all gone.
Wiped away by the everyday eraser.
And we forget about our – so felt – selves again.

The only thing that makes us wonder
is a leaf that sticks to the sole of our shoe.

So which two halves of the 24 hrs is reality?

It´s exactly the right time to be in Berlin. The past weeks were horribly exhausting and directed by foreign forces. One second later and I would´ve exploded. One second earlier would just have missed. After the farewell I could finally breathe. On my way in the train the pressure passed by. Blurred like the landscape outside. It´s not really about the capital. I myself am the city that I´m entering. To explore it´s hidden corners, known but new. There´s no map and no plan, every movement is improvised. At every fork I have to decide once again, as there´s no routine to draw me. I can´t predict the outcome, because every step opens up another uncertainty, in which I might totally get lost. I´m looking forward to cafés, theatre, museums and a floating here and now. I observe, what only I can see. I recognise and feel what moves me. The silence makes me hear my own voice. And if anybody wants to spoil my mood, then it´s nobody but myself. I don´t need any sense, things happen, because I let them happen. That makes it the right thing. Mainly I can think. Think anyway and think what I want to think. And write.

Dear friend,

I don´t care what you, your crowd and the whole world (with few exceptions) say. I will neither prostitute myself, nor take advantage of anybody to reach a goal, nor will I become corrupt and lose track under influence. “Success”, as you might define or measure it, is not important to me. I need the personal step forward, the inner improvement, every good sentence means success to me. I´m perfectly happy just working the way I want to work. If people happen to like the result and think it´s promising, it´s fine. If not: Fuck off.

The world needs rebels. The real and authentic folks who give a shit on what people say.  That´s how fresh ideas arise. All the other greasy stuff gets me the creeps. That´s what you can do.

It´s sad that you and I have major differences like this and that you treat me like a child.

Loving and missing you,
M


BYFE = BeYond Fucking Everything.

(This is my explanation to a friend who tries to educate me.)

I love this Remix. Getbusyboys rule.

Lieber Freund,

es ist mir egal, was Du, Ihr, und die ganze Welt (mit ein paar Ausnahmen) sagen. Ich lasse mich weder prostituieren, noch heuchle ich jemandem Sympathie vor, um etwas dafür zu kriegen, noch lasse ich mich sonstwie kaufen und beeinflussen. Der „Erfolg“, so wie Ihr in definiert und messt, interessiert mich nicht. Für mich zählt der persönliche Schritt, die innere Entwicklung, jeder Satz ist ein Erfolg für mich. Ich bin glücklich, wenn ich vor mich hinarbeiten kann. Wenn die Leute das Ergebnis mögen und als erfolgversprechend ansehen, ist es schön. Wenn nicht: Fuck off.

Die Welt braucht Rebellen. Die echten und authentischen Menschen, die das tun, was sie wollen, und darauf scheißen, was andere sagen. Nur so lassen sich Neuheiten entwickeln. Bei allem anderen schmierigen Kram läuft es mir kalt den Rücken runter. Das könnt Ihr machen.

Es ist schlimm, dass wir in solchen grundlegenden Sachen so auseinandergehen und Du mich behandelst, als wäre ich ein kleines Kind.

If my sis Lena would have to describe her currend feeling, she´d say she´s being rocked by a rhythm, bubbles coming and summing up; building a volcano up to an explotion; letting brains`n´belly spinning funnily; producing some energy that makes her running up an airy stairway to a place that consists of a 100% belief which is home, safety and freedom to us all. Isn´t she fucking silly?

Thankful.