Faster than a heart could ever beat
I saw you crossing over the street
Finding it hard to hold back the tears
Well too scared of my own fears

Realising that time has chased you up
And you have nothing to refill your empty cup
Thoughts and pains all over the place
Nothing but black stains running down your face

Life’s more than a direction that you choose
The biggest game that you can ever lose
Trying to retract the lies and cheats
And beg for forgiveness from the hand that feeds

Cover ups and well made disguises
Not minding the arranged compromises
Wrong prices made for sympathy
Have led you towards agonizing apathy

Luck is not what you can count on anymore
Only hard work is what you are living for
Your heart will carry on beating for sure
There really is nothing just as pure.

(2009)

Can you see that one doll is missing? You open Chinese boxes in order to find the answer that you are after. But where the fuck is the other one! I once had a nightmare in which I was opening boxes and there would always be another box to open and I couldn’t get to the last one. I’m far from the answer and these dolls are proof enough. I can’t waste any more time on this.

I feel like getting closer to God, even though I consider myself as agnostic. I don’t pray, I don’t go to church, but I know there is something that tries to control us all. I have tried to make friends with this special “something”, but it doesn’t like me. Apart from feeling rejected, I have accepted the fact that all of us are standing alone. You try to believe in something, because you don’t believe in yourself. I think that’s the reason why certain people go to church. They just need to. Actually it doesn’t matter what you believe in. But if you believe strongly enough in God, he will exist and I don’t mean just the one God.

There are many mentalists in the world who say that anything can happen, only if you believe. Just like the mentalist I was on about in my earlier blog (the one I called magician). He was certain that he could give us luck, but after all, it was about self-belief. You were the one to make the luck happen to you. Unfortunately, he didn’t manage to trick me. I wish he had. Probably he didn’t lie to me, but I lied to myself. I thought he had answered my question with a YES, but it was the answer that I wanted to hear. And maybe I didn’t believe strongly enough in the answer.

It’s funny when a lie can sometimes put a smile on your face. That’s when you think everything is just alright.

I’m listening to Chinese Poprock. There used to be this famous band from Hong Kong called Beyond. They were the reason why I first got into Chinese music. But it’s no use when I don’t understand a word they sing. The Chinese tend to sing in poetry and use long expressions just to express one single thing. It’s a waste of words really, but not in Chinese and I think that’s what makes my mother tongue so unique. I don’t really regret that I haven’t learnt my language properly from the beginning, though. I mean I was born in another world. I would have become such a different person if had been born in Hong Kong. Very often I think about that. Still, I like the me that I have become now.

My doctor says that I have Chinese blood and that will always stand out. That is probably the reason why it had always been so hard for me to adapt to all the other people at school. I was not just standing out, I was isolated. Or I isolated myself, unconsciously. I never really realised that I was a Chinese, I thought I was just like all the others – pale-faced and blonde. It never occurred to me that they saw me with different eyes.

At school it is common to bring sweets when you have a birthday. I used to bring a lot of sweets: chocolate, chewing gum, candy and marshmellows. All packed beautifully in one plastic bag for each single one of them. That was when they paid more attention to me and tried to make friends with me. But the day after they’d have forgotten about the sweets.

I never used to eat at school. I was afraid to eat to be quite truthful. I didn’t like people watching me when I ate. This reminds me of Philip K. Dick. He was the same. He found it absolutely barbaric to eat, especially in front of people.
Nowadays, I don’t mind it, but I can’t eat big food like a kebap or a huge burger in front of a man, because it looks disgusting, totally not feminine. It’s a total turn down and I know it. Just imagining the whole sauce around your mouth and salad sticking between your teeth – so disgusting. Generally I get nervous when eating in front of a man. I need to trust them, then it’s fine.

It’s all about trust and it’s starting to piss me off. Why is it so hard to trust people? I used to trust people easily but now…? What’s more interesting is, I don’t trust this feeling in my stomach, which I call spontaneity and I don’t trust the voice in my head, which I call lack of self respect and I don’t trust my heart which eventually is self-denial.

This needs to change, but I don’t know how.

It’s a very nice thing to make people smile and for some strange reason I seem to be doing that a lot for some reason. They also manage to make me smile, even though I’d rather have a good laugh. I think the last time I laughed was during my favourite series. I like clever puns and dialogues. I used to write those, too, but I have forgotten how to create such masterpieces.

The weekend was rather nice. I like going out, except for those train journeys to town, because during weekends you’ll always encounter young drunk people who would pick on you. I hate going to town on my own at night time. But I did on Saturday night to meet Andreas. And there was this ugly guy sitting next to me and across from us were his two female friends. I was listening to music and could still hear them talking, which pissed me off. I had rather not heard a single word. The girls was making jokes about him, saying he should try to ask me out and he went “I don’t want a chink.” Well, I don’t like the English word “chink”, but you have no idea how much worse the German word is. I don’t even want to write it down. The last time I got called a chink was in England, when a fifteen year old townie girl threw a full plastic bottle at me, which hit my shoulder blade. I wonder how these people feel. Do they think they are something better? Prettier? More human? Well, whatever makes them feel better about themselves, I don’t really care…even though I wish they would die sometimes.

I’m working on a story called “The rain”. There are two Londoners (a girl and a boy) who meet at King’s Cross station in London. I’m unable to put an end to it. I currently have no inspiration. All I can write are some second class poems, which don’t even have the ability to express my inner anguish. I probably don’t care enough about it or I’m just simply too unmotivated to deal with it. I have too many questions regarding the unknown… all those might have and could have beens. I’m bad at acting fast and sometimes I can’t even comprehend. As if I had Asperger Syndrome. But it’s more the lack of concentration. I never used to be like that.

Sometimes I wonder how to feel sexy. But then I only feel sexy during one particular song and I’m happy they always play it at my favourite club Grünspan. I always have to go to request it. And when it comes on I consider the whole dancefloor as mine. “I drink the honey inside your hive…you’re the reason I stay alive”. Fucking brilliant and sexy on top of it. It’s amazing what certain songs can do to you. Daubbing your soul with honey.

I just had a run and feel slightly freer, but not quite. My mind’s still locked up like a codeless safe. However, I’m writing again, so why do I moan?

I thought I saw a ghost at work today, but optic deception happens a lot lately. You know what it’s like when you see things you wanna see?

There are so many lines on my palm, I wonder what else exciting is going to happen. I need some excitement in my life very badly. I want to react more, look forward to things and get told that I can do it, whatever it is. Because right now I’m unable to tell myself anything. I don’t believe in what I say anymore. I seem to be a bigger liar than my ex, which is scary.

I think I’ve become more conscious than I was before, as if I’m not on “prescribed” drugs anymore. I think I’ve learnt to control it now. Or has my body adapted to them? Maybe I’ve learnt by myself how to concentrate. I gotta take this chance to read more. Not for uni, but for myself. Also I need to learn to drive more carefully. For the rest of my life just learning. I do need that. I’ve become a crappy learner. My brain’s not functioning as desired. That’s when you wish you had done more in your childhood rather than sitting tight in the chair, doing nothing.

It’s going to take a while until life gets brighter…brighter than sunshine? Ah that’s a dream. Too many dreams that are unfulfilled. And it’s so hard to wake up. As you don’t want to wake up. The next step would be to get up and the third would be to make it happen. Too much effort, ey? But what more do we have in life…

I still resent the magician for lying to me. He told us all to ask him a question and send the question to his heart, which I did. Then he told us to close our eyes, because he was sending us the answers. And that’s where he lied to me. Bastard. It’s childish to believe in magic. Maybe I only sent him the question because I thought it was exciting and because I can be superstitious. But he lied to me anyways.

I got nothing more to say. A dirty old man (who I’d probably slept with in my previous life) once said “These words I write keep me from total madness.”

And I feel slightly freer now.

How far down the rabbit hole or the downward spiral must you be so that someone thinks you’re on drugs, even though you’re not? (Except for those prescribed by the doctors.)
It has been a horrible day and the same thing will repeat next week. Except for the doctor’s part…He has messed up my head again with his long speeches about cultures, geography, nationality and the fact that he thinks he knows who I am. And apparently he knows what’s better for me. He thinks that me doing Masters is a waste of time, because things are not going to get any better by doing this. This sort of makes me think, because he is right about me wanting to escape from my current situation. At the end of the day this situation won’t ever change if I don’t face it. I really don’t know what to do, I honestly don’t. All I can do is look at the problem and say “Well, what about it.”
It’s probably useless to wait for heaven coming to earth. Nothing good with ever stay. Not voluntarily. Everything that does me good seems to go away in the end. But every little moment of happiness is so precious that I fall in love with it.
He says one day I will meet the end of all my dreams. My creativity and talent will run to seed and I won’t be able to do anything about that.
Well……., so why not let me try to live right now? Right this moment.
Maybe I’m running from the truth and I am the lie that people nowadays believe. Even though I know they are wrong, I won’t do anything to deny what they say, because there is no point. If they are not important parts of your life there is even less point in denying. Just let them say what they wanna. Though, I just can’t lie to people that I care a lot about, that is all. But I lie to myself so much that I can’t even tell anymore whether I’m me or not. I wonder whether I’ll ever learn this lesson. Or is it going to be an endless trip? A brain and heart trip, which does nothing except to make me crazy.
But I will stick with escapism now. A bit of fun, a bit of romance and a bit of high speed. I just can’t deal with my reflection; it falls apart every time I see it. Escape from my current situation. That’s what I’ll do.