I’m having my own The Downward Spiral gig right this very moment. Following NIN and Rob Sheridan on Twitter was painful as hell. So they played the entire Spiral album from beginning to end in New York, eh? Thanks Rob for this fucking piece of information. I’d have been better without this shit. You call it epic, I call it bullshit.
Yes, I do act like a bitter child that didn’t get the toy that she was asking for, so be it.
See you again live on stage when I’m 35, when we’re all old and worn out! Fuck’s sake. Envy can kill you from the inside. Feel like I’m not good enough as the American fans. Al Jourgensen played 3hrs with Ministry during their Farewell tour. 3 hrs in each fucking city, no matter where.

It’s all about money.

I just ruined my favourite Bukowski shirt that I wear for bed. It’s medium sized for boys, so it’s rather wide and the sleeve got stuck on the fucking doorknob. I got so pissed off that I pulled even harder until it finally tore a hole. Now I regret having done this. That flow of anger was overwhelming, though. It was such a metaphorical incident as well, that I suddenly had to relate this event to all others that I have experienced in life so far. You know? Just getting things worse than they already are.
Well there was a cause that triggered this little bit of anger. Before that incident my mum had put the (dead) Bonsai plant on my table. (You remember the Bonsai plant from my other blog entries!) She was saying “Let’s be realistic…this plant is dead!” I was looking at the dry brown leaves and the flower soil, which I had never ever fertilized. Why? Because I have no idea how to do it. Why? Because I never informed myself about it. Why? Because I couldn’t be bothered.

It was supposed to be a present for their Silver anniversary. Both of them refused to take care of the plant. It disappointed me. So I didn’t want to take care of it, either. I had done nothing except for watering it. This is what I’m like. And you thought I was such a caretaker.

Current favourite song on the album is ruiner, I’m not sure why. I guess it’s the line that goes nothing can hurt me…nothing can stop me now. These lines make my inside go whooosh! Just as if there was a demon that controls it all. Why worry about if it gives me sensation? Besides it’s a sign of courage and ambition. Ten years ago, I would have cried in bed. So would you go for tears or anger?

I’d better stop before a warm place attempts to mellow me out. What I would write during that song would knock you out. You don’t need to mention hurt.

So much selfish babbling lately, eh? Remember it’s your choice to witness this.

Right now I’m feeling as sober as the evening in Helsinki last summer after having smoked weed for the first time. That was a nice experience. Weed gets you to like things that you don’t usually like. You look at all the negative aspects in your life and suddenly see the fun part within the negative countenances. I think that’s the way The Comedian is. After a while of thinking I realised that he can be a person to look up to. Because after all he is just a lonely fighter that no one understands. And the admirable thing is he doesn’t care.

I haven’t touched weed again since last summer. Why? The opportunity never occurred again since then. Besides the aftereffect isn’t necessarily pleasant for certain people. In my first sentence I was talking about soberness. The aftereffect of weed is unlimited soberness. You begin to wonder why you are able to deal with 100 thoughts at once all of a sudden. Your mind is caught in the webs of melancholy and your eyes will stare at the first object it sees. If it’s a stone you’ll begin to freeze. If it’s a withered flower you’ll see a dead Ophelia. These truths are inevitable!

I cannot forgive people who drink in order to keep their eyes shut from these imageries. They deserve to be blind and get paralyzed by nightmares. There is no moment that is more worthy than the moment of soberness. You can face the demon right here and now. A clear mind is what a buddhist aims for after all. And I feel like a buddhist right now, but without the need of meditation. Sometimes soberness itself can cause a mini epiphany.

Hours

Seventeen hours of being awake
Each day it is all the same
Uncertain of this life being a fake
Need cash to finish off this game

Seven hours of numbing slumber
Each night hands on the dimmer
Only slowly switching to a lower number
Until you see the black star shimmer

Twenty four hours of heartbeat
With 120 beats a minute
The very moment our hands meet
Take this chance and win it

(2009)

Do you want to know a secret? Sure you do. You always do.

Well, when I was younger I used to look up on a model and actress. And I just realised that I still do. I thought she was the most beautiful (half)Asian ever. Her name is Michelle Reis. (I only just found out her name.) She was Miss Hong Kong in 1988 at the age of 18. I had learnt about her in the early nineties. My parents used to have calendars imported from Hong Kong. There was a large picture of her. All I could think of was that I wanted to look just like her.
So from that time on whenever I go through my own stories in my head or whenever I was dreaming of someone, I imagined myself as her, kissing the man of my life or something. I have been doing that since I was about ten or eleven. And yes, I only just realised that I still do. That is why I had to find out her name to make sure she’s a real person. And that she is someone that I am not.

Yes, I probably lacked of confidence.

What are you waiting for? Google her.

My four main goals in life are (in order, so it makes sense) :

1. To release at least four books

2. To give my parents all the money back that they’d spent on me

3. To become a vegetarian (or at least a pescetarian)

4. To get photographed by Bryan Adams

So do you think these are realistic goals? Well, nothing can stop me now.

( For the German version, please visit: http://human-junk.blogspot.com )

I don’t even know where to start. Right now I sense little tiredness, but as soon as I’m asleep, I can sleep nine hours straight. Other people open their eyes widely when I tell  them I go to bed between five and six AM. The reason? Because my time of peace starts at 1AM. But being alone for four to five hours is simply not enough. The time passes faster during night than during day.  Of course it’s because I’m extremely busy with reading and writing. Every time I look at the clock, already one hour has passed and I’m under time pressure. You really shouldn’t go to bed later than six AM. Why am I looking for a full time job? Well, my body will have to adapt to the new sleeping routine. Of course I need money, I mean who doesn’t? I would only change this routine for the money. Why do I care if that’s unhealthy? Some people start work at night and I’m just one of them.

I hate the day. Being outside, where you meet people every second, no matter on the pathway or in the car. They even look at you, even though you don’t know each other. Nobody would even perceive you if you were in New York.

The phone has rung twice today. That’s another thing that bothers me. I hate this thing, especially the horrible noise. And no I didn’t pick up.

I don’t want to go to the doctor’s again. Unfortunately he doesn’t understand anything. I was suggested to go to a female doctor. I’d rather say no due to my misogynistic views. The phone is ringing again. And again I’m not picking up. Why do they want to meet up with me? Drink coffee with me? Walking round town? Especially on a bright day in the summer. I just want to be alone. But this won’t happen. Usually I agree to meet up, because I feel like I owe them my presence. Sometimes I call back to arrange a meeting, even though I want to be alone. There are few exceptions, because there are only  a few people who mean something to me.

I think the doctor would describe me as a schizoid who is going to become someone/something bad in future. That’s not true. Humans need closeness, humans need space. And sometimes you need one thing more than the other.

I am selfish, because I’m not ready to seriously help others. Especially not when I’m not even ready yet to help myself fully. I haven’t even made something out of myself, yet.

Many are afraid of being alone, afraid that no one is there for you when you need them. In such cases I feel no fear at all. And I won’t feel anything like that in the next ten to fifteen years. I will be way too busy. It’s enough for me to have people I can write to. I don’t need anything more than that. There are moments where people are unable to be alone and they start to cry. This is where they would immediately call up a friend or go to them. I did this lastly with 19. Now it’s liting a cigarette and go for a walk. There are people who just want to be alone in moments like these. I don’t like people who expect too much from me.

Of course I do long for human touch. Particularly now, as my heart is open and ready to trust again. However, it’s very picky and only falls in love with those who have achieved things in life and manage to touch and cleanse my heart. You only manage this with the right words. In English.

The phrase of the day:

“I don’t want presents…you can get me presents once you got yourself a proper job…”

I’ve not quite made up my mind on how to feel about it. On the one side I’m very hurt and on the other I just don’t give a flying fuck (anymore).

I just can’t help feeling that something very wrong is going on.
And my current need is something very unhealthy. Fighting against it is driving me crazy.

So far I’ve met many, many easy-going people. I’m not going to say people with “common sense”, because everyone has a different perception on everything and everyone. I want to focus on little things and how different people perceive those little things. Whilst some don’t bother, there are others who fucking take these little things personally. As if these little things mean the world to them. And then you are at fault when you don’t realize it. I’ve never paid much attention to people like that, until I saw that in a girl once. And today I saw it in my mother. No wonder why we argue so much. There are close people of yours who want to know each banal thing regarding you, such as “Did you take the train or the bus?” Something that not even you care about. But no they make a fuss about it, as if the world depended on it. I’m not talking about mothers and how they perceive things and so on, but I’m talking about people in general. In the end you are being accused of being insensitive, inconsiderate and ignorant. I hate this. You try to tell them that you didn’t mean to and you didn’t do it on purpose. But they are pissed off with you anyway, refusing to accept your apology. Do you still care? In moments like these, I just say sorry once. There are far worse things that I could do to you.
+++
I just realized that my last blog’s title doesn’t quite make sense. I think being indecisive is being grey. It’s similar in the Russian film Night Watch. If you are an Other you’ll get to choose – between black and white. I know what I will choose. This is only if I don’t get the chance of actually thinking about it. I do have plenty of time to ask myself now, though. My only problem is that I don’t want to join parties. It’s like losing a big chunk of your own individuality and in the end you are in the midst of war – fighting against a brother or an uncle. Overall I haven’t quite made up my mind. Maybe there are occasions where you have to decide whose side you are on. Still this doesn’t change the fact that I could slap those people in the face who ask me: Whose side are you on?!
Well, certainly not on yours.
Oh well, a contradictory thing is that I vote. I have to emphasize that don’t have strong beliefs in any party; I vote because I am given the chance to make my own decision. I think everyone should do the same. Free choice, people! Of course it’s also a choice, if you decide not to vote at all. I don’t blame you if you have your own beliefs which none of those parties shape. As long as you have your own beliefs, it’s ok; as long as it is not apathy. However, even if I say I have my own beliefs, too, it’s no use, because I cannot say I can change the world. Not right this very moment anyway.

I think I’ve already mentioned before that I am planning to release three books at least? I’ve changed my mind – it’s going to be four. I’m not going to elaborate here. I’m hoping for the next ten years to be busy. I don’t lack of inspirations, but I lack of the ability to express myself appropriately. It’s hard not to be peculiar in language. I’ve always found it weird when tutors at school and university tended to criticize my style, saying I sounded like Yoda, but they didn’t seem to complain about James Joyce’s “Ulysses”, which I’m not going to read any time soon. I’d feel extremely insulted when reading him.

This is one of the most horrible blogs I ever wrote. No connections, nothing. Shame on me.