In the last 26 hours, I’ve only had about three and a half hours of sleep. Let’s say I’ve been working—for no money. This is always the case with me. I choose something I enjoy doing, but it doesn’t pay. I’m a volunteer music copywriter. Other people in my shoes would complain. But I don’t really see the point in complaining about something that I enjoy doing.
Now talking about the Reeperbahn Festival – I didn’t enjoy it because I didn’t feel in tune. I was never interested in that festival, but I agreed to do music journalism to gain experience. Besides, I was part of the press. I got in everywhere without hassle. However, I wasn’t much involved. The team or crew was doing its thing without keeping me up to date about any schedules. It was chaotic. I didn’t even have the feeling they gave a shit about me being there. I just filled in some gaps. That was all I did. Whenever I talk, they don’t seem to hear me. So, in the end, I didn’t bother. I went to free gigs, but I couldn’t enjoy them because none of the fucking bands interested me, and I was only asked to interview one, Molotov Jive from Sweden. They played a boat gig and were in a hurry. The interview only lasted 2m30sec. Ridiculous, but I had to hurry because I didn’t want the boat to leave with me on it. Molotov Jive was my first band interview since The Haunted in January. At least I had some fun.
Another horrible thing was the McDonald Eat-for-free vouchers. It’s terrible when you can’t afford the healthier food option. Or when you’re in such a hurry that you can’t be bothered looking for alternatives. So why not get some crappy McDonald’s since it’s free? I think next time, I’ll choose to starve. I would’ve had so much more fun working as a music copywriter at the Hurricane Festival. I’d have done my own thing then.
But who cares now?
When I’m cold and stressed, my dry skin starts to itch. Today I scratched so hard that I bled. I’m such a wimp because my skin can’t even handle the cold of autumn. What if I was in Canada in the deep winter? I’d skin myself with my nails.
Sleepiness is kicking in finally, but I mustn’t sleep too long tonight. I need to get up in time to vote. To make it clear, I’m not voting for the sake of Germany. I’m not voting because it seems to be the right thing to do. I vote because I’m given a chance to make my own decision about something. If I ever get a choice, I tend to grab it. I don’t support any of the parties. I agree and disagree with all of them. I’m not a full-on Democrat, despite some democratic attitudes because I value the idea of choice, and changes are important. However, this doesn’t mean I’m on anyone’s side.
On the way home, I was observing people on the train. There was this guy who looked like he’d been through a lot of emotional stress. Maybe his girlfriend called him an arsehole and dumped him. However, he didn’t look like he meant anyone harm. I spotted exhaustion and washed out anger around his eyes and on his cheeks.
Then there were many teenage girls (all blonde) travelling by train at about three a.m. It looked like they had also spent their weekend at the Reeperbahn Festival. They reminded me of The Virgin Suicides. They had this sympathising way of looking at one another. Sometimes I recognised envy, sometimes pretense. Who cares anyway? They are young.
The man I looked at had this sharp and fierce glare, which freaked me out. When you see a man with reddened skin, you know that he has been drinking too much.
When people looked at me, I noticed that they tended to stare at my chest or body rather than my face. When I interviewed the singer from Molotov Jive, he kept eye contact with me, but I couldn’t. My eyes wandered off as if I wasn’t even interested in the things he was saying. Yet, I felt respected by him. I think all the noise just caught me off guard.
Well, for the sake of my soul…I want to be alone.
