one of these days

esme

one of these days we should do that. just a walk, and some talk, like we’ve done before.

Re: walk in beauty

i need that and i am endlessly sorry

to begin with. again. i’m sorry

that night on the 14th of june when i was about to turn 24  i had a dream.

birthday

shadow and light

in the afternoon, life came to a standstill. out of nowhere, her name popped up on the screen. the curse of yahoo, where you see when your contacts are online. also shows your nomorecontacts, unfortunately.

seeing those two words gave my heart a good squeeze. life slowed down, focused on one spot on the mail website. and there it was again, everything, in the blink of an eye.

fate didn’t dare

blue night temptations

The cold won’t yield. There is no sign of spring, no hint it will ever come. The sky changes its color, but it fades from darker grey to lighter, and back. The sky looks like myself, torn inside out.

Yet, there had been sun. Some weeks ago, in India. And color.   

happy new year is here. go away.

so this is how 2009 feels when you’re not spending most of the day inside the smallest room of your apartment trying to keep at least some fluids inside your aging body. finally made it back to the office and, surprise: it was still there.

objects in the rearview mirror may appear closer than they are

looking back, the plane truth is easy to see

the end of a year, be it calendrical or personal, not only reminds me of death. it has the same feel and taste. and, as death, it cannot be avoided.

the questions for me are: where am I? what have I done to deserve this? and, basically: who am I – and if yes, how many?    

dec 24, 2008

merry christmas, esme.

merry christmas.

two dark-haired girls

no darkness was ever black enough

what is man? I’m surely not the first to ponder this question, and yet I won’t be the last. and how would I know, above all? what I know is: man is formed by his past, and sometimes the past doesn’t stay where it belongs, but pops up in the present.

this is what happened with fran. and is has nothing to do with esme. which is a lie.

to venture into the unknown

(good-)bay windows in san francisco

of course I reply to fran’s mail. ages ago, when there had been an us of some sort, we had passed gigabytes of communication data back and forth. mails, messenger, sms: after one-on-one in the “hole in the wall” and a fax which kindled our relationship we had gone totally digital.

regardless, it takes me hours to find words to mail her back.     

history repeating

mail from the past

takes me a while to realize who sent me this mail. I had expected much, but this, man, takes me by surprise. I read the sender again. wow, I think. what the, I think. that’s about all I can think of this very moment.

then, finally, after taking a deep breath, I click the mail open and read:

hola!

: )

long time no e-!”