Wos i in 2025 ondas gmocht hed Goa nichts! Na ned nur nix, sondern goa nix. Vergiss des Wochnend, mir wird jeder Tog gleich liab sein. Das Handy bleibt die Toschnlompn. Ich hass dich du gschissns Handy, schleich dich. Ja, dich mein ich. 2025 woa a hetz, ich hab tatsächlich eine wuzikleine Sammlung von 15mb an grottenschlechten Texten beisammen. Mit 21.Februar.2025 sind das gut vierundvierzig, ich schreibs aus zwecks Wow-Effekt, Wochen an einem Versprechen, mich zumindest ein

Sir, this is the third time we have caught you taking off on unlocked bikes on the street. Even if the owner is not here, it does not give you permission to use it in their stead. Since the bike is not damaged and you admit it, we will let you off the hook with a warning. I mean, why would you wash and polish the bike that, past midnight, you had grabbed and non-chalantly driven off the security camera angle. The owner said you pumped up the tires the next morning, why would

What is it that connects people? I engage in conversations with at least a dozen people a day, some of them repeatedly, some of them irregularly. For a long time, I thought it’s pain that connects. A vulnerable look into the other person’ eyes. You don’t like them? Well, maybe you haven’t felt the same type. I wonder what even dares me to think that others connect with me through pain in the first place, it’s kind of sad if you think about it, it’s as if I was reducing myself

No future, no past, just what is now. New York, can I get hit by a bus to find out how I can afford to buy an apartment by milking the cash cow. Lafayette or H, you pick. With you I feel no age, no stick. Where I can wear whatever I want, hair clipped. Walk until I burn off the greese off my hips. Can you make my time stop again? Just so I don’t loose track of your scent and pretend To hold my breath until I can enjoy your air again. Every brick and bump shaping a chrysalis,

1. 50 Cent 2. Reese Witherspoon 3. Hans Christian Anderson Meeting God would be interesting, can I add him to that list though? He is kind of the OG celeb.

Whenever I don’t write something meaningful – the time I spend sitting in front of an empty page - I tend to think about my past and future. The bright day awaits me after a dark night. A step into the next is another weighted by the previous. In sight for a second that will be forgotten – I pinch my soul time and time again: What truth was I sure to hold on to, except the one I chose myself?

Ohhhhh, finally. Thoughts are like wine; you learn to savor their alluring nature. You can press your grapes as fast and efficiently as you would like to; it won’t make the wine taste better sooner. Regardless of the attempts to allude to your truth, striking the balance of entertaining the thought enough to not lose track of it is a dance that you can pick the music to. You engage in tango and swing. And if you’re very patient – I'm talking homeless-beggar-level of persist

It happened. I wanted to write something but decided not to because I am not anonymous. I am going to NYC again in the second week of December, and I would like to try out an OpenMic. The topics I would like to discuss: What everyone gets wrong about Hitler The difference between capitalism and the roman empire NYC TSA Long-term relationships I checked today on how to reserve a spot, and the following spots expect a sign-up either on the same day or the Sunday of every week:

you dream, day in and out until you start asking yourself what the fuck you are doing. hello, hello, sings the tiny bird on my balcony. another day that you waste on what you are not!, it laughs at my agony, may i forget and see what is being pushed into me, my face right into yours. i switch it on but it falls black again. dive through a cloud and have thunder strike me to feel my head instead. we fight with fists and red our knuckles as we bleed out on the floor. through an

Is it the shift into the winter season? I am not tired, but I do feel a lack of energy. Year by year I end up in the same situation, however, with every new season I learn to deal with it better. I took some time off work, and spent my leisure time reading and gaming, mostly. I read Freida McFADDEN’s “The Housemaid” on the train ride I took to visit my brother on Sunday. It’s mind-boggling to me how women are so invested into true crime, because Freida pushed my heartbeat h

To the walking germ that has infected me with an unshakable cough: thank you. It‘s been two weeks and my dry throat made my cough morph into dinosaur screeches; I can‘t sleep and tomorrow is Monday. „Screech“ happens to be a noun I used in my new addition to the last week‘s „mental retardation“ post. I hate pharmacists. You go and ask them for one thing, they pretend to listen, and hand you whatever pharmaceutical company paid to recommend. I just wanted pastilles to suck on

Chapter 1: the fall. A dull thump is all Allen heard in the very moment every parent fears the most happening to their newborn baby, followed by a high-pitched screech collectively recognized in the animal kingdom as the final attempt to draw from all available energy and signal that danger was imminent. For an outsider, it couldn’t have been more than a few moments, but to him, time stopped. No matter how much he tried, he could not move an inch from the hallway floor that h

Boom boom boom. Boom boom boom. Boom boom boom. NIaaaaaaaaaa NIAAaaaaaaaaaaa NIAAAaaaaaa nIAAAAAAAA. It would be time to do it. As of me writing this, it is Sunday, 11:30 pm, but my week wasn’t too bad – was it? Complaining is something I am much better at, and there’s no room for cheerfulness. I scare, when the inevitable hasn’t presented itself to this day. Der kleine Marienkäfer Es war einmal ein kleiner Marienkäfer namens Johanna, der es sich zu seiner Lebensaufgab

Jetzt aber Schluss, pause! Ach so, ich hab ja auch ein Mitspracherecht. Schafft ja jeder, sein Leben auf der Hand herumtanzen zu lassen. Vergötter mich! Lass Dir Zeit, mir geht’s auch ohne Dir gut. Mit deiner Mühe kriechst du eher dem Leben an, als darin anzukommen. Ich halt den Klugscheisser nicht mehr aus, bitte, Hilfe! Ich bin wütend. Ist es nicht Traurigkeit? Oder doch eher Liebe und ein Instinkt, zu reagieren? Tut mir leid, wenn ich halt lieber einen Abend über Radio pla

Herr Doktor, mein Telefon macht mich krank. Mir tut es nicht gut. Gehe ich Reisen, sei es mit Familie, Freunden, oder Kollegen, dann freu ich mich schon extrem auf ein bisschen Alleine-Zeit, aber nicht mit meinem Telefon, nein! Das pickt mir nämlich nicht nur in meiner rechten Hosentasche, sondern auch auf der Seele, wo ich mittlerweile von einer Allergie befallen worden bin, die mir wiederholt zuckend meine Brustmuskeln zum Spannen bringt, sobald sich der kleinste Gedanke üb

Yeah, aaaaaaaaah. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. Seven and a half hours ago, there were three brothers. Each of them had their own space that they called home, where they would spend their mornings basking in the sun. “Life do be bitchin’” thought one of them to himself, and it was a rare moment everyone collectively felt the same, and there was really no need for the brother to disturb the peace describing it, because he knew that once he explained his feelings, they would take shape. In

Mindestens zwei Gründe fallen mir auf Anhieb ein, um meine Liebe zur Republik klar zu stellen. Vieles macht sie falsch, einiges ignoriert sie völlig, was sie aber nicht davon abhält, uns gut gesinnt zu sein. Von allen Seiten wird sie beleidigt und die Meinungen spalten sich in den allerkleinsten Angelegenheiten, die sich in allen Gesellschaftsgruppen, Regionen, Straßen, und Heime am Leben halten.

Only dumb people generalize. There’s so much to it. One of my biggest pet peeves is making a statement about a whole race, group, or society, with absolutely no effort made to dig a bit deeper into the topic, desperate on the quest of finding the remaining functional neurons inside your brain. A brain so small that it is completely overwhelmed by the fact that people don’t live as hive-minds, they have feelings, too. Too ignorant to accept that when they are hurt, they feel p

Hello, it’s me, And another sleepless night, it’s three (AM) A burning in my chest, it doesn’t go away. Anyways, it’s another Sunday, you guys!!! New Sunday, new me. New Sunday means only one more day until Monday <3 Yes, this is the dream. Hustle it away my WHOLE life. I won’t know when it will pass; it’s only natural to grind life to the ground. Let’s disregard the poem I decided to stop writing two verses deep and instead use my time now to do what I do best: bitchin‘, na

Elle Orlando brought up a funny topic in her most recent podcast “The Elle Diablo Show” episode, episode nr. 56 ( https://youtu.be/z0FqhMaQDVI?si=ZuQ7Lv45ooTdKmdx&t=14:54 - I know, writing out links is so outdated man, but this lazy Wix webservice is so ass it can’t even manage proper markdown or I‘m just too stupid to use it) to be precise, where she wondered how Larry David from CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM would handle a day in New York. He would enter the train, she says, and b