| 25 December 2005 | ||
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Quote of the day: "My Christmas message would be: 'Stop shopping!'" A fox on Creature Comforts |
9:00
I got woken up by the phone - Lukas! They're at the airport but there's
not taxi. Bloody hell! I had ordered a cab to pick them up at 12:30!! Oh
yeah, the flight was re-scheduled, but he hadn't bothered telling me the
new times. I was FUMING! I still had the whole house to clean, and to
shower and stuff, and I will probably end up paying the frigging taxi
company twice! They got here OK, paying through the nose: 120 fucking pounds!! I must say, they're charming young men, and very excitable. The mere "englishness" of my house was enough to make their day. 21:00 Spent most of the day in my small room reading and listening to music. The bloody Christmas mood is getting to me, or maybe it's just my hormones... I'm reading James Frey and I start to cry again and again. It's a brilliant book, so well written, so "objective". I'm worrying. I'm not sure if I should be worried or about what exactly. It's the "2006-will-be-very-much-like-1986" thing. It's not my fault, and I'm OK with it - life moves in cycles. But the pain is still the same. It has never gone away. I was kidding myself all the time, it was too good to be true. But it's OK, because otherwise there would be no life. It's OK. It's life. It's love. I've made sketches for a new painting, but it's still looking pathetic. I have the idea in my heart, but it's not easy to put it to paper. Maybe it's better to rip off somebody else's art and say: "That's what I've been meaning to say!" Or maybe I could just make random paintings and wait for the matching idea to come along years later??? |
It's Taoufik's birthday, and even
though I know he doesn't care about birthdays, and I know he deletes my
e-mails, I have sent him a text message. I have been sending him messages
for years, for about 13 years?! Blimey. I have no reason to stop now. I don't fucking care what Madonna does with her voice or the bum. It's completely irrelevant. I love him. I'm not interested in any analysis. I'm not interested in comparisons. It doesn't mean anything. I love him, and I'll love him in any form or shape. If he decided to fart on his next record, it would be OK by me. I'm going to love what he does, I'm going to love him even if he hates himself. I'm going to love him even if I don't like what he's doing. It's not up for discussions. I'm going to follow him wherever he goes. I love him. I love him more than anything. |
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Another quote: "As with most testimonials like this that I've read or heard or been forced to endure, something about them strike me as weak, hollow and empty. Though the people in them are no longer drinking and doing drugs, they're still living with the obsession. Though they have achieved sobriety, their lives are based on the avoidance, discussion and vilification of the chemicals they once needed and loved. James Frey, A Million Little Pieces
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Person of the day: George (yeah, I know...) |
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Annoyance of the day: Lukas giving me ALL the wrong dates AND times in one single email. Piece of advice to him: Do not take any job that involves "time management". Good luck to you! |
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Song of the day: Wenn niemand bei dir is' und du denkst, dass keiner dich sucht, und du hast die Reise ins Jenseits vielleicht schon gebucht, und all die Lügen geben Dir den Rest: Halt dich an deiner Liebe fest. Wenn der Frühling kommt und deine Seele brennt, du wachst nachts auf aus deinen Träumen, aber da is' niemand, der bei dir pennt, wenn der, auf den du wartest, dich sitzen lässt: Halt dich an deiner Liebe fest. Wenn der Novemberwind deine Hoffnung verweht, und du bist so müde, weil du nicht mehr weißt, wie's weitergeht, wenn dein kaltes Bett dich nicht schlafen lässt: Halt dich an deiner Liebe fest. Rio Reiser |
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