out of place

Nothing like feeling pushed away.
You just want to run away, yell and disappear
If you could, into the outer space.

I think this is becoming a routine now.
Who in their sane mind gets up in the morning “willing to go to work”? There must be something very strange here.

Doing your best during the day
and at night all I’m left is alone.
Just because I do nothing but caring
just because I try to accommodate your soul
but myself, I am yet alone
I got lost again and forgot about how to get warm.

Maybe I should just get rude
let everyone know what I want and how I want it
but I’m still a carer and I’m not demanding
and that will show,
I would just get laughed at even more.

Who am I? Just the person who cares?
Who, as long as I can give it all away?
What do I need? Just a person who cares
What does that mean?
No misunderstandings
caring leaves no room for thinking badly,
because that place should be taken by the purest of your love.

Misunderstandings? Means no trust in my love
No trust in my love? To me the biggest one of scares
Because of all I’ve done, because of how much I care
Silence? There is no care, there is nothing there.

I do not think badly of anyone’s actions
until they become mean, or they turn into inaction
When someones uses excuses, plays down, makes up stories
doesn’t mean the other person can’t see
Love is not blindness,
Love is caring no matter what.
If the caring is gone, then there was no love all along.

And then we are lost.

Enjoy your new love
I’ll be left once again with my solitude
It would have been nice just to find out from you
not because of your attitude.

But that is ok
it is better this way
you get what you want
and I get what I deserve
A bigger fuck than the previous one
with no ticket to exchange
I have a record now
so I can put it in my collection chain.

“Caring for my solitude,
and if you behave
you can leave it all behind
and fuck me up as the world didn’t care”

For that is my destiny:
giving it all
and just getting pieces back.
But never the pieces that match,
only just the pieces that scratch.

I am now done
Wake me up out of this nightmare
But only if you find someone who cares
If you can find that someone
My kingdom he deserves
For I can’t do it anymore.
I’m not looking for a lot,
But that lot is playing hard to get.


Time to Face the Truth

Light post on the beach

The truth is that I shall never rest
my heart will never be in peace
the constant ups and downs and the “neverenoughs”
Will be the the only constant noise in my ears

Always getting myself lost and giving it all
to find out what I was giving out was my very own soul
but still was never enough

I need someone I can rest with
someone who does not look for further answers or further questions,
seconds answers or second truths
never looks behind the mirror
because all there is, it is me and you

I seem to have gone astray again
but this is my usual pathway
dark and dirty like an alleyway
but I know every corner, every brickstone on the wall
for I’ve been here hundreds of times
and the place won’t let me go.

“Never enough, never enough”
It’s the hissing of the passing train
If I ever want it to stop
I get repeated: follow the path, otherwise “never enough, never enough”.
I want this train to be robbed
So I get kidnapped and taken away
I want this train to crash
So I can forget the things that I’ve done
because apparently once again I did lose myself
but “never enough, never enough”
was always there.

When I sit in the high courtroom
and I get asked
my crime was nothing
except that I cared
if that is ever a crime
then god, I AM condemned.
Take me away as soon as you can.
For there is no resentment
I did what I felt, I did what I cared
If that is ever the worst crime
I should then burn in hell.

Who’d been running away from whom?


In contrast to the dull and grey outskirts of Paris where no shadows are cast,
The cozy lights pour out the windows and reflect on the pavement outside,
On the cobblestones of the old town.
They bring an intense feeling of serenity and carry peaceful smiles inside.

Pasta cooking that makes kitchen windows steamy.
Warm lights as an embrace, all over the room.
Friendly noise waiting behind:
Voices, giggles, laughter
And a distant television indistinctly telling stories about the outside world.

Looking in from the street,
Left out on the curb
Staring in from the cold of the night.
May I come in?
Never even had the chance to choose.

No Dice

Box of remainings

Some time ago I received a box to my old address that I had not opened until today. It is somewhat appalling and discouraging┬áthat this is the second box I’ve received during the course of this year.

The box before this one contained things that I gave out and had a part of me (my “me” then) in them, but this one felt a lot more meaningful, and not because of the extremely unimportant things it contained, but precisely because of the things that were not in it. The trust I left behind was not in it, nor was the faith, the innocence, the positive outlook at life and the total belief in life sorting itself out and working out perfectly fine for me.

These were the most valuable things that I left behind and therefore could never have been held in that parcel. Its opening unfolds a recollection of the things I expected to be, but no longer expect to, of the things I thought I would be and the things I took for granted and that I do not even dare to even think about anymore.

As I mentioned, this is the second box I receive this year. Both of them were belonging(s) to (from) previous lives. If we leave behind parts of us wherever we go, after so many “previous lives” is there still anything of us left? In our new lives, what do “new” people find? Is it really still us, or is it just the “toughest”, the most resilient parts, the parts that nobody wanted, the parts that are impossible to get rid of that stay with us?

Regardless… I am convinced some time I will get a nice surprise on the mail: a map that will show me the path in a way I will finally understand so life won’t feel anymore like a pair of rolling dice.