truth

This is the first time I wrote something down and kept it. Brutally honest, more than I am to myself.


Be gentle.

Okay. I'm just gonna do it.

This is the first in hopefully many entries into what I cannot describe as anything specific. In here, there will be my thoughts, actions, re-actions and conclusions, but not exclusively. In other words – these are my doodles.

I lose days, perhaps weeks to this nasty habit of mine. Watching the sun rise and feeling a refreshing wave of energy just gives me a naughty feeling of shame. I have nothing to wake up for, not in the suicidal or depressed sense, but in the sense of which there is no difference between right now, tomorrow or next week.

The act of doing something has lost meaning along with the feeling of free time – which doesn’t actually exist – sucks me down to the lowest pit of my imagination.

Even now, as I so-called "try" to change back into what I was, way back when I had something. Anything.

Distance is a deceiving mistress, time meshes together. The real difference is how much you miss it, how long you think about owning it, whatever it may be.

For me, it's not about the actual achievement, I think. It's not about how I got there either, I'm assuming. Rather the way I feel right here right now. The impatience and self awareness of a little child.

As I look around, for memories, for thoughts and ideas, I can't help but think about thinking and how immensely boring it is. Theme of the day – grey.

And so I lie awake, thinking, dreaming, wishing and fantasizing about a girl. A girl to live for, die for, care for and go crazy for. I know she waits for me too, wherever she may be. The distance once more, not physically, but existentially tugging at my being.

These lost feeling rushing up to surface this barren template of an existence of which I wake up to nightly. The consistent dealings of such fruitless nonsense and inconsequential discussions methodically smear my window to life, to see, to remember what I miss most. The agonizing hope that something will rescue me from it, some sort of angel. Divine I am not, at best you can say I am not the devil.

I've hidden it well, but at what cost. The chance to change this damned structure lies within – I'm sure – but I fear to think of what will answer when I knock on this door that has stayed closed for so long. Or so it feels. Without truth there is no lie, therefore with this blinding white truth that I uncover and dust off, I may be led to lie.

I hope I wont regret putting this up.

was at a strip club - thought of you

It was so surreal, unbelievable in it's simplicity and awe-inspiring. There are no words, many thoughts - most of which were culturally inserted.


I went to visit Bear, took the train so we could go out and party - surprisingly something we've never done together. With no plans in mind, just a good mindset and a decent amount of sleep I get to his place where I'm awaited with a beer. Good start.


After a bit of random youtube clips we head out - where to? Fuck me if either one of us knew where we would end up. After about an hour or more of walking around with no good bar scene to find we come across this self proclaimed "Go-Go" bar. We take a look at each other and shrug, obviously over-thinking something we have been thinking of doing for months, but never got around to doing.


So we ask the unusually casual big bouncer at the front - reasonable price. Then we get inside our own heads, end up going to a bar next to it where we are incredibly rudely greeted by what can only be described as a hag. A fat-armed, short-haired, feminist wannabe who thinks she's funnier than Jim Carrey's asshole in Ace Ventura but came off as a gigan-ormous tryhard. We proceeded to drink our unreasonably overpriced beer at this 80's style bar which was suspiciously overpopulated with dudes, but not prettyboys - if it was a gay bar, it was a low-end one at that.


So we talk ourselves into going there - done! lets do it! Now sufficiently (or so I thought) lubricated with alcohol we go inside.


As we step inside, I'm underwhelmed and yet increasingly uncomfortable - we are clearly the youngest people here (22) So we situate ourselves on a bench right in front of the main stage and I start smiling from ear to ear at all the thong-bearing strippers littered across the place. The stage is empty, I glance to my left at a stripper (probably the classicly hottest one there) giving an unhealthily fat looking man a lapdance. Bear shouts to me over the strangely ambivalent background music: "I'm gonna get a lap dance from her!" and shamelessly points at the beauty on top of the beast to my left across the stage.


Shocked at his concerningly comfortable behaviour I can't get the words out of my mouth fast enough before I'm approached by a hot piece of stripper in a dental-floss g-string and a tiny bikini top. She places her surprisingly warm hands on my lap and simultaneously two things happen in the reverse order - 1. I am overwhelmed with shock at the thought of a lapdance from a stripper 2. I perpare for a totally normal situation of a hot girl hitting on me.


Offering a lapdance and "touch anything" my self-flattery denies me of the chance at saying something semi-coherent and I blurt a syllable never heard before in this half of the galaxy. I shake my head and she indifferently turns her head to Bear and raises her eyebrows - while still basically having my eyelids a mere inch  from her nipples. Calmly, he disperses of her.   


As the carefully sanitized pole is being rubbed, humped, climbed and slid down the surprise of the level of the performance continues to stun me to a state of near-euphoric stupor. My complete and utter concentration at the acrobatics and well... "theatrics" is abruptly broken at the sight of a mere mortal woman in jeans and t-shirt no less. As I notice her approaching from the corner of my eye the concern of interruption looms.


Surely enough my right leg is being grinded, my shock at this obliterated my motor and speech skills - yet again! "Get your knees together so I can dance for both of you" this evil temptress commands and I must obey so I move up closer to Bear. Throughout this ordeal I have no knowledge of what he was doing/thinking/saying.


This is abruptly interrupted by a "super-sketchy" (as was decided at the end of the night) angry-looking dude. He pulls her away and they start shouting at each other or so I assume - there was a main stage performance. I spot him coming at us with a scorn across his face. He shouts: "Did you pay her?"


What is the right answer here do you think?......................


I go with the truth and shake my head, he repeats his question and follows up with a glare. I stick to my head shake and he walks away. This is followed by a long break in which we blankly stare at the stage and occasionally I try to put my thoughts into words unsuccessfully. Finally Bear turns and asks me "You'll never guess what's the time" "2 guesses" I said, "10 minutes.... or 10 hours" I had no idea. As he had to get up early, we go home, but not before coming across supersketch and the double-lap grinder.

and then there was blog

She is crazy. Then again, they were all crazy.
Lets not start at the beginning.