Feeling good

So. Now that therapy is nearing its end, I might as well come forward and exercise some frolicking thought games that are supposed to light up my droopy disposition. 

Having readily disposed of 15% of my control urge (on a piece of paper in a box – yes, venturesome me), I feel I should fill that void with something good. Here are three things that were good today. 

I finished a task at work and found out that I really like working on that kind of process. 

What made me be the lucky one to get that task done? I guess, once I find the concentration, I’m happy meddling with meticulous tiny fractions of information, extract them from a larger text and piece them together to a new form. 

Feeling accurate and nerdy here…

Then Peter uploaded his application as BT candidate and received lots of good reactions on it.

Why’s that good for me? Well, the application is really good and I had my hand in it rounding it off and I feel proud that he follows his goals and hope he’ll be successful when the Bavarian Landesliste is voted in two weeks. 

Feeling melancholic butterflies…

And then I made my dad happy when he found my ‚keep up your spirits‘ postcard in the mail. 

Feeling good.


Bad news

​Old men doing their cocksure manipulation again. It’s unbelievable and I’m truly worried for what is to come over the next years. 

We desperately need to find ways to deal with „post fact“ communication in order to make sure democracy, solidarity and tolerance, human rights and nothing less but a peaceful society for generations to come do not fall victim to the antics of some evil old souls. 

Closing time

Train ride at late hour. Tom Waits is singing a melancholy closing time, putting me in the right mood to roam in between thoughts.

Slowly, the train crawls though the grey suburbia of some German town. No housing. Just fields. The odd factory building, at hazy night light assuming an almost portly stature. Around it there’s empty space. Anywhere, yet nowhere. Can’t see what’s in front of me or what I’ve left behind.

… and a lazy old tomcat on a midnight spree, all that you left me was a melody …

It is dark outside. Wafts of mist close in on the autumnal surroundings. Funnel-shaped, they billow in warm, orangey street lantern light. The atmosphere is spectral. Serene. Shapes born from my thoughts gently roam in rhythm with the train’s rattling.

Tom is replaced by Bruce whose words speak my telltale heart.

… may your precious blood bind me, Lord as I stand before your fiery light …

There’s always been darkness.

As well as all exceeding, joyful light. Noone‘s ever known my fantasy world. Of imagination, peace and trust. Of love and rhythm. Of pictures and stories, of playfulness and blinking awe before the vast knowledge to be gathered in this boundless universe. Of an all embracing love for the natural world and the possibilities of human imagination and creativity.

… may I feel your arms around me. May I feel your blood mix with mine.
A dream of life comes to me; like a catfish dancing on the end of my line …

Long gone.

Bruce again. Ol‘ boss always finds the right words to save a life within 180 seconds.

There‘s a way to come to terms with one’s own melancholia. I’m sure. Must be.
Maybe you would understand. Would I?

Aren‘t our ways of being haunted – our beliefs in calmer times, equally vast?

Your demons sure are different from mine. Could you share yours with me? Would you be prepared for mine? In a world we create of our own?

… sky of blackness and sorrow. Sky of love, sky of tears
sky of glory and sadness. Sky of mercy, sky of fear
sky of memory and shadow. Your burning wind fills my arms tonight
sky of longing and emptiness. Sky of fullness, sky of blessed life …

A fooled heart, beating fast in search of new dreams.