I wanna see your face.

On a Sunday morning at 6.

Unmasked, unmade, summerly sweaty.

Asleep and awake, going back to sleep.

I wanna see your hair fall freely,

Taste your skin,

Touch your lips.

I would find—a piece of who you really are.

I imagine this wonderful.

An old withered sign

A whisper in your ear,

words unknown,

language unspoken,

pure lust,

pure pleasure.

In Ebisu, Shibuya

And related to this, but coming from here.

Beautifully Violent Reaction

I have fallen in love again.
With a single track.
How it pulls out my hearts strings
Scatters my brains into the air, just to see how it feels.
Like they say, hurting oneself to see the feeling visualised in bright colours.
This heaven and hurts.
A lovely private hell melting me down.

I love to see people holding their hands
A little intimacy
Publicly served
Not showing off
Perhaps sharing
Not dominating
Just walking
I cannot be like them
On my own.
But I can enjoy watching them
Come and go

Destination less
A little park
No target
Just getting lost
In a sea a future
“Love yourself”
The cat said
As it curled itself up
A friend at night
So reassuring
Eyes wide open
To watch us sleep

I feel so warm.
What’s the temperature?
I feel so wholesome.
Who does surround you?
I feel so loved.

There are only men as guests in the 24 hour restaurant and a woman in the kitchen.

Looking into the kitchen at night, walking past.

Nothing more then a peaceful scene in a picture at the eve of 2021.


I like this feeling.
Gentle ebbing in.
Sunshine glistening.
Mutely speaking.
Words gain new meaning.
Shortening distances.
Gaining new names.
And I still prefer dancing where no one can see me.

This is threading the needle through the camel.
This is staying alive and enjoying it.
I him this whatever.

This cat is calling me and I offer a snack.
That bird flew to japan one day.
Those dreams were dreamed awake and now I never sleep.

This thought overlooks a cliff and is soon one step further.
Comes back you and sits on your shoulder.
Patterns she’ll recognise and recognise them self.
Who put this mirror here and put a light onto it.

This condition has named itself.
She her this and that.
Assign a meaning and marvel.
And as you sit quietly in the dark of night you will see the cities lights.

Beat, beat, beat.
We laugh together.
Drop, drop, drop.

Up the slides, down the stairs.
Just a little further, so I can show you my favourite place in the world.

Here is a little thing.
Don’t look back.
But don’t turn back.
Just turn.
I am looking forward to see you become yourself again.


Waves gushing, seagulls laughing.
Swimming, drowning, breathing.
Because we like the sea.
Levels rising.

Walking the concrete jungle, till night falls.
Looking into your eyes, reflecting street lights.
Because we once loved the future.
The old port has matured.


Nightlife in bright lights

Your appearance is an portal opening.

And no light escapes.

Left to wish to look behind the curtain.

And you hide your eyes behind lenses tinting your iris.

Your pachouli smell brings me home right away.

Oh hell I miss having long hair, for the first time in years.

Whipping them across the train to the darkness creeping through my ear pieces.

As I did in Berlin, when I was still your age and not a vintage.

When I was despair unleashed upon my fellow travellers.

Yet, here we are and I look at you and only myself reflects back.

All silver and black.

My skirts were short too, but made of latex.

And desperately now, I want to explore what pains you.

To close my wounds a little while.

Outwardly I still smile, but I rip.

Pain’s still fun.

Fuck men

In which ever way.
Fuck men.
Be it positively, fucking their brains out, in way only their partners could ever come up with.
But fuck men,
Fuck those who believe in supremacy.
Fuck those who put their needs above all else.
Fuck men.

And sometimes,
Fuck me.

I gave someone goosebumps today.

Not with a story of mine.

But a reality I am helping to shape.

Their interest peaked my levels of attraction.

It’s killing me.

I notice,

My realities are misaligned,

My minds avoid communication.

I feel out of sync.

Disharmonious awaiting the summer.

To perhaps fall in love again.

Suck on another cigarette.

Something like that.

Till then. I’m tried at day and awake at night.

But there’s a pill for that.

People of the Sun

Right wingers confusing Rage Against the Machine as non-political reminds me to one of my favourite metal experiences: I was in Norway in 1996, above the tree line, with a bunch of other kids. I had befriended a punk and got together with a goth, which made me a goth punk (until today) and we introduced each other to new music. The punk had asked if I had ever heard RATM, which I had not, so we took a hike to the next towns record store (again, in middle of Norway, above the tree line….). Next to a lot of metal (my love for Black Metal only started the next year, but I am sure I would have found treasure there, had I known), there was Evil Empire as CD (which I bought out right), Vinyl and a poster I wanted, but could not get.

Cover of Rage against the machine’s Evil empire

Back at the holiday house (which was next to a lake, surrounded by mountains, which were always Blue, either because of rain or because I was smoking tea bag apple tea as an alternative to tabac [always have papers!]) we put the 2 speakers (around 1 meter high) on their sides, droped the CD in and laid myself down between the speakers.

I will never forget how “People of the Sun” shocked my system, both mentally and physically. By “Vietnow” I was on my feet, but hell this was awesome. We played most of the record until 3 Nazis came in, who were part of the kids group to tell us to shut off our lefty music, while presenting me with a noose they had made for me; in their words so I can hang myself.

That caused the three of us to turn it up and nearly burst the speakers, so the adults came in and shut us all down, but hell, it was fun, encouraged me to be an anti racist and established a strong love for that album in particular.

For all the words I want to say to you.
I cannot say to you.
Yet, perhaps.
Words to tear us apart.
Words to shape worlds.

Tiptoeing on ice.
I’m so hot I melt.
And what do you know.
Temporarily feel me.
Momentarily be me.

And let me be you.
For some eternity.

It is so good to know you found me.

Lurking in the dark.

In a history.


Throwing thoughts around.

You found me.

Where I tend to find.

I was found.

This just may be a first.


Find me.

All over again.


Words got stuck

Need to unstuck.

Emotions frozen on grounds on fire.

The world ain’t dying

Only what we used to call humanity.

I look forward to re-emerge.