Hormones changing the structure of my hair

My hair falling differently on my face again

To round around my head and not straight at all

Points to a change in the overall atmosphere surrounding me

I’m back in my teenage years again

I have to learn again to temper my hair

I have to learn more to trust myself and not be fooled by people

Who try to make me see myself through their eyes

The eyes of ignorance and prejudgment

Who try to make use of me like of a tool

Which can be disposed of



She is cursed to living all by herself, and although not always physically alone, the others are missing at the exact moments she utterly needs them. So she watches tv, trash tv, to get the human interaction form there. There are always the others that things happen to.




Sun brings people. People bring themselves to the woods. She took the phone call out. She broke up in the woods. Yelling at each other over the phone. She doesn’t want to be on his terms anymore.

Omg, by the time I was back from my tour, the brake up women was still there. Not in the woods anymore, but there, in the park. She has a white cap with fur at the tip and a plastic bag. Blonde and not exactly thin. By now it was only the voice of a male voice-mail coming out of the phone. 




Guy standing in the bus, man, retired. Talking to women guest, also in her 60s or 50s, very sure of himself. Women impressed. Guy sits down on the place the women has left empty. He starts shaking, unable to control his body.



The first days we don’t even remember. They were too far away. We started dancing in the rain and our lives were over. But we lived again. And again. And again. Through you and I. We lived and died. And did not remembered when we lived or when we died. The first days were too far away. It could be yesterday, that we died again. It doesn’t matter. The first days are important. But we forgot them. We let ourselves fooled by the rain drops and forgot about them. And the rain drops turned into rivers and took us away, far away from where we started. That far away that we forgotten the road back. We stopped dancing in the rain and wanted to go home, but the darkness showed nowhere. And then we died waiting, but nobody came. Nobody came and nobody left. We were all together and all the same. And all lived and died and nobody went and nobody came. And the rain drops stopped raining, and it was moisture all over. And it did not dry. And it would no dry. It will remain and make our skins smell, like moisture, from the rain drops, into which we danced once...   

Ode to prejudgments

  Prejudgments save. Because they rely on collective experience, gathered among time. Because, even more, they rely on collective fears, which have become reality
with time. Prejudgments save because they are a defense system, a social immunity system. Prejudgments save because they are not true; they are real. Being real,
their reality guarantees their unconditioned and unanimous acceptance.

Prejudgments save because they don’t instigate to anything. Because they mean to ignore.

Prejudgments save because they move away: the person who has them from the one towards which they are directed to. Pointing finger, makes it disappear.

Prejudgments set apart, they choose, they close the circle. Prejudgments save because they close it and don’t let anything in. Because they are cleaning up.
Because they put everything in its rightful place. Prejudgments file away.

Prejudgments save because they are the most efficient white weapon. Because they do not kill. Not physically.

Prejudgments save because they do not condemn: the person who has them. They do not condemn, but consternate.

Prejudgments save, always!

Ode to the ones that see the future without you

Ode to the ones that live the future without you

Ode to you - for staying and listening

For seeing. For not moving on.

For staying and listening.

For stay and listen!

And let life go on without you

and see and listen the life that goes on without you

See and listen!
No rest

No rest, for rest means no future

Future means doing something

Even if running in circles

Or hitting your wall times and times again

But I want no future

And the present I’m not missing either

Go away

Remove yourself from me

Let me sleep.

Each evening is raining, with thunderstorms. Sometimes it rains far into the night, that I can only hear the thunder through my sleeplessness. And I cannot get up, because I am too tired. Because I cannot fall asleep.

 Every night is raining, and all I wanted was for the day to pass, so the night could come, so I could sleep.

I cannot fall asleep, and it is all I ever wanted. But to sleep with no dreams! Just to be rested and calm, like dead.

I can’t listen to music, can’t call nobody. It’s just me with myself. And I cannot get away. I cannot let go of myself, cause that would be getting away. So I write to myself, hoping someday another self will read it.

Time stopped. It’s just raining ...


                                                 ... and all I want is to fall asleep!!!
Creatures of the night –animals of the night

Walking graciously, like gazelles, with barely nothing on

They walk alone

The streets of this city

In search of him – the illusion who will get them out of their agony

Their agony being that he is not there yet.

Not him but HIM, the one, the big shot

The one they walk the streets alone for.

They walk the streets alone, but together.

Together, but not united. Together against each other

They walk and dance and move and talk and photograph

Their time is running out

They think to live means to live like that

But what they believe means to live means to die

To die of one’s own
Body just body

How I feel

Beauty in itself is not involved

In its patriarchal meaning of it

He wouldn’t look me in the eyes

Eyes on screen, eyes on screens, screams my name

Excitement and thrill while one doesn’t know what the night can bring

But sorrow and thoughts, for we have done this numerous times before.
The street, the wood, the street, the street.

The house with kitchen lit in green.

She run by it. Again. She did.

This time the background room was lit.

A man and women in the kitchen lit in green inside

the house at the edge of the winery,

where the view of the city begins.

She saw this times again, and again.

The circular runs always have the kitchen green.

But this time the room in the background was lit.

The kitchen was empty with nothing to see,

and only the room in the background was lit. in red