life is a battle

and I will accept the fight


can't always be formulated
the confidence
the necessary yes to life
seems strong and fragile
in the same time
waiting for rewards
for being spared
but isn't an island?
beautiful but small
beautiful but lonely?
the seas of thought
roar, making the
deep inside you helpless
and powerless
no revenge anymore
so many try to veil this
to hide grace
to douse the flame
of divine love
untrue angels laughing
untrue angels hurting
but there is a
stronger love
going beyond death
flying, winging up high
the real friend
who alone knows God

funny poetry

a - nother small idea coming over
f - ishing gone without you
r - epairing a bad mood
i - nside of it, there's just a bird
e - leven children smiling
n - ever to think of hurting you
d - own by a funny river
s - peaking carefully
p - eaks of happiness
e - nding the parasitic pain
a - llowing breath after breath
k - issing my cheeks
s - tepping with me into the future

a long talk with my parents
I just had a long talk with mom and dad. I'm not quite happy living here in Eppendorf. That is, it is ok, I can handle, but it's not the best idea of life for me. My mother said, if I wanted I should get myself a place in some assisted living project. I agreed with that. But my dad is afraid that I might "drown" when I am on my own again.

I'm not quite sure what I should think. I believe the assisted living appartment is a good idea, but in a sense my dad is right, I will encounter difficulties and I am not entirely stable so coping with the difficulties will mean a challenge.

Psychically, my greatest problem these days is that I feel isolated and lonely. I do have my parents and I cherish them, but still the feeling lingers. It feels like nobody really can understand me. My friend Indira once said that to think I can understand someone else is presumptous and wrong. I get where she's coming from, but I have this notion in me that once at least some people understood me, saw my urgent needs, loved me. I mean, when I was little I had fever and nightmares sometimes, but my mom knew a trick that always helped me. It always felt wonderful when mom helped me out of the nightmares, and so I trusted and felt approbriately understood. She saw my pain and delivered me, that was understanding for me.

I've had this happen at other times in my life too. Small, usually isolated incidents. But they were there.

I also think God understands me. Sometimes He has broken through to me very strongly. It was wonderful. But from these encounters I also learned that I need to be mindful of God, remembering that obedience really is a must. I mean, one time many years ago I was laying in bed, thoroughly terrified of voices I was hearing and not knowing how to handle the fears that were plaguing me. Then I prayed, Father Jesus, help me, and suddenly I saw before my eyes a nest with little birds in it, all of them with open beaks, and chirping for food. The same day I went out into the park and met a very kind old man with whom I talked for a while. My mistake then was to insist on my pain, that before I would do anything I wanted to have all of my pain removed. That was a big mistake. I've learned that Jesus usually doesn't seem to take your pain away, but if you trust Him and treat Him with love and respect, He will influence your life such that gradually pain subsides. Without you trusting Him, Jesus only gives you the usual blessings, the rain, sunshine, etc, but if you want help from Jesus in a personal relationship you must care about the trust requirement. It's not that hard actually, but our minds are unused to trusting so we don't always know what it is.

It seems to me, if I want understanding, I have to try to understand others. God understands me, but He also wants me to understand Him, that I understand not just in my head, but in my heart, that God is the sustainer of life and that I must not have reservations about Him.

So my decision is this: I must start investigating my options in moving out, but I must turn to God with these things. Only He can make sure that I won't drown in loneliness or inability to handle life. I must be completely willing to be obedient in all things.

(no subject)

die scheiben kreischen zerbrechend. wahrheitsgeräusche.
am nichts scheiternde realität. weil es so bleiben soll?

ich laufe umher wie ein zebra gefüllt mit beiden irren lichtern:
der großen hoffnung und der mütterlichen verzweiflung

meiner seele. die blaue hand muß weiter schreiben.
stückwerke. selbstverlustsiege. rotweißblumenalles.

verzückt in die stille kreatur hineingelauscht. zertrampelt
das selbst! der dämon geifert und ich will mich nicht mehr brauchen.

weil die mutter weint und der vater schläft. im stillen haus
der heimat. unter dem alten alten himmelskleid blauschwarz.

poem by me

why are we angry
at a crucified man?
trying to oblige
dark or silly secrets
to create ourselves

apart from Him
there is nothing
really real
everything dubious
everything transient

I've always been
looking for the tangible
my greatest enemy
was my still heart
why didn't it learn
from the crucified man?

to weep, to scream,
to wrap others in my warm blood
to accept the condition of pain
and the condition of freedom,
of love, of sacrifice

it's not logical
it's not reasonable
but it's conquering everything
from daisies to mountains to
kind and silly people and to
human devils

hell is waiting
heaven is waiting
but Jesus isn't
grasping my hand and
saying just don't give up
I will do the rest

ok ok
I've just been out in the garden to help my dad a little. Now I sit here and think about it, and it seems that in this one hour of helping him I have achieved more than in the whole rest of the day up to that hour.

Thoughts are important, but actions are the truly necessary bit of life. It seems to me as if a curious mind can be betrayed by lusting for thoughts.

The real important things in my life, were not those of thoughts. My baptism. Kissing Monique the first time. Reading Indira's first email. Being with Reiny on the day before he died.

Talking of Reiny, I miss him, badly. He was the kind of guy you just have to love. He had his flaws too, but provided we can love then even our faults are beautiful.

That's love's only condition: you must love too. Don't loiter in the grey area between love and hate, where you are safe from the agony of hatred but also where indifference grows and where sometimes greater evil is produced than in the realms of hatred.

(no subject)
I've found a good site about psychosis:

I feel very inspired. I also need to find a way to express the schizophrenia, the fears, the delusions, the anger that sometimes overcomes me. But I only have poetry as a ressource. I can't paint, not even draw. And I'm not good enough with the bass guitar either.

Ok, here's a first try:


schizophrenia, the giant steps down the hill
finding his head at the foot and starts crying

schizophrenia, all that I am is an anthill,
the queen is called nothing and lifeless

schizophrenia, drinking from imagery but
it's no sustenance, so I must eat from the stones, too

schizophrenia, unwanted thoughts, unknown, an
evil fright and getting fatter (or thinner) by the day

schizophrenia, no respect, fright and hatred like
a soup that I serve everyone, in quietness and friendship

schizophrenia, totally unknown everything, hiding in
everyday life, oh my poor family, I have drowned them all

schizophrenia, so I go daily into the grey abyss,
not knowing, if, when, how .. will I see the sky again

Today I feel really awkwar. I slept nearly the whole morning. I think of I. a lot but it's not really making me happy. I feel pulled here, then there. It's very absurd. I'm confused. Why can't I just feel normal? Why can't I get the thought that it's just a good acquaintance, a friendship? It's always so mad and I can't get a grip on it. And it's always as if there are shadows lurking, as if someone manipulates all of this and hurts me and her all the time. No wonder I got delusional back then too. It's disturbing. I wish to cut it short and say to myself I only give her some luv, nothing extraordinary, nothing like the greatest love story of all time, ready to be seen in all movies. Why does it have to be so insane, so awkward and so confusing? Why isn't it simple?

(no subject)
Life is a little like an old video game. It seems to have levels, and boss fights, and power ups along the way. One could even say it keeps a score, though surviving and getting through is more important than getting the most points.

bist du nahe?
~bist du nahe?

traum nicht koloriert. an tagen schwer und saftig wie
schwere trauben. ein neues unbekanntes, aus der
geliebten hand, und der geist sagt einfach ja.
in den nebel hinaus kriecht meine hoffnung, in
die himmel schwingt sich meine liebe, tief in die
erde gräbt sich mein glaube. ER hat gesiegt.
das kaputte hirn quetscht sich durch die türen,
schmerz ist der sechste sinn, und er lebt in
unbesiegbarer stärke. die tränen preisen ihn.
das herz gibt seine furcht preis, himmelsvögel
tragen ihn hinweg. meine worte fließen leise
hinab in die schluchten, wo die guten gedanken
wohnen und mit abendweinmündern einander
fröhlich die wange küssen. so schwillt das leben
an. den geiz zerreißt es. die gier zerflederts,
dem zorn vergeht sein lächeln und sein
blindes, totes glück. bist du nahe, liebes?


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