Laß Dich, Geliebte, Nicht Reun, Daß Du Mir So Schnell Dich Ergeben! Glaub Es, Ich Denke Nicht Frech,

Finger licking good Steve!

Which Steve are you?

Normality

One of my best friends called me odd, whimsical, even eccentric at times. He asked me, not to take it the wrong way because I'm special hence I'm allowed to be. I was so flattered but it made me think.

I used to try so hard to be normal. I tried to be like everyone else and failed miserably. Then the coping mechanisms kicked in and I renounced every social convention - everything normal. Don't get me wrong, I never tried to be myself, but I was as different as possible. Looking back now, I was the kangaroo from the kangaroo chronicles and it was fun, it still is.

Schools of therapists tried to teach me the basic skills needed to live a happy life but not my happy life. In their arrogance they tried to mould me into one of those people I detest so so so much. Reflecting on it, it's exactly what I do with my clients. I hate it. What if they just want to be their own version of the kangaroo? Is that who I want to be? The guy living his dreams, travelling the world, trying to take as big a dump on the man and society as possible, but telling other people to adapt? And if so, how much is the right amount?

But the most pressing question is: Did I turn into one of them? I used to live by a rule, I'm not sure who said it, but knowing me, some philosopher. If you find yourself on the side of the majority, stop and reflect. I argue within the system. Just like politicians unable to see, there are different ways of doing things. Ways outside of a capitalistic oppressive society. Instead of fighting me/us on changing the world, I was lulled into their world. I have a decent job, make okay money, study in my free time and shut the fuck up because I'm fed, stressed and all in all happy.

What am I to conclude now? What can I do? What will I do? It remains to be seen. I'll start by being myself some more, even if that means running headfirst into some walls. But most importantly I'll keep using the train. It's just the best way to get around whilst being able to think.

All I can hope for, is for someone to embrace me. please, embrace me, if just for a moment. I need you to remind me, I’m in here, I’m alive, I’m not alone. please...

This time last year, I could have told you who I was, and who I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Twelve months have passed and now all I’m sure about… is that it’s December again.

rhymingtherapy, writing prompt #72, write about December (via wnq-writers)

Like looking into a mirror!

Still loving it! :D

It occurs to me that there are people who weren’t on this website in 2012 and therefore never saw the magical gif that you can actually hear:

It’s been over five years and that still impresses the hell out of me.

For only the good doubt their own goodness, which is what makes them good in the first place. The bad know they are good, but the good know nothing. They spend their lives forgiving others, but they can’t forgive themselves.

Paul Auster, Man in the Dark (via quotespile)

Do your worst, tear it out and rip me apart. I forgive others quite fast.

I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forevers. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin. Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle. This is how we heal. I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you. And I will not be afraid of your scars. I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I will love you when you are a still day. I will love you when you are a hurricane.

Clementine von Radics