enter wrinkles, exit sandman

the
negativity is almost entertaining



Strength of individual traits: E - 8%, N - 78%, T - 82%, P - 78%


because garlic smells lovely in excess


i am getting too old for this, actually. old, cynical, realistic and slightly less entertained by the idea that i have to get a regular job and thus use my head for other things besides thinking. you know that feeling when you wake up. yeah. that is not what this feels like. this has just been one long drowsy and exhausting stretch on the couch for me. anything to keep the outside world at a different bay, telling myself that 'trusting an idea is probably better.'

it's like hitler. you've gotta admire his charisma and spirit. even though it mainly consisted of the most fundamental evil.
 (minor detail)


welcome to the time of the year where everything melts too fast

i think i have to escape further north. this heat is killing me and it's not even that hot yet.

i fucking loathe the sun

inside this rubbish head where spikes of happiness amounts to nothing at all

so remember that
satiety doesn't always come from what you get,
but is rather based upon what you expect

aaaah, i feel so not alive today.. fuck this shit

this is probably the most expressive i've felt in a year and it's all due to negativity


the neverending party in my head
where fuck up or fuck off is the general rule

blend a shit ton of band aids
and piss on your own wounds

too bad i can't dance on my own grave. that would have made me so happy.

actually not hungover

just like a bone marrow that's leaked right out of your skin

maybe we admire people because we yearn to learn from them

that's why we need idols, gods and other father-like figures to fill a certain void of need

at least that's often why i tend to get really interested in someone
what do they have to offer and what potential do they have to make me grow
how can i benefit from their vortex of a world and personality

how friendships last, i don't know much about. i quickly get weary of people and resume to skimp along, over to the very next one.

people are just annoying in the long run. you've heard all their stories, you've figured out all of their functions - what they like, love, resent and hate. everything about them becomes obvious. which is in turn rather boring.
too much of a good thing makes it a bad one.

a week is enough. too much of the same person and after a week, i hate their guts for some reason and resort to quiestioning every word and gesture that comes out of them. is this perhaps a disorder of sorts?

this day, i'd rather be dead

so. realised my whole life's a lie

lonely, no real friends, lonely, no real friends, lonely no real friends lonely lonely lonely empty hollow no real friends

the lie i keep telling myself
lies within my certain belief

these days, alcohol is my most reliable source of happiness
and even that is a lie

everything and everyone just hate my guts for being so depressed

granted.

the only way i handle harsh criticism is by nodding in awe and reply with a sincere "yes.. yes, i know. i totally agree.. it's all i ever think about"

is it hard to hate yourself so intensely and passionately? yes. but you get used to it. the edges wear off and it has become my normal, basic setting.


this hell burns too slowly

falling through space

just to keep sane
since i can relate so well

ah, the sensation of empty

when all emergency-exits lead me back here

my deepest frustration in life is lack of care, especially when it comes from somebody outside of me. if others don't seem to give a shit about what i say, do or make, a huge part of me dies a horrible, slow and incredibly painful death.

isolation is best when enjoyed solely
and stone cold

home

where our heart's at

one of those bands i'd easily cycle hundreds of kilometers to see live

they just make you so incredibly sad and happy at the same time

maybe this image translates that

hope so

when the most succulent thing in your life is called 'beer'

the winner within
has been chased away by the loser

clogged and spoiled

once again
inches does not count
once again
directions will not be given

once again
the sand goes nowhere

concrete concrete concrete


travel to the sea
to see
an elephant
die of thirst
and thus try
to drown itself

so much to learn

so gifted,

start a giftshop

sign here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here, your soul should be everywhere, here and here and here and here


make icecubes that fall through the earth
climb a ladder to pick rocks off the roof
show a good neighbor how to cook a dead child

survive

rip heat eat repeat

we're all in the birdnest
next to your favorite corner of the earth

sing me a song about e-numbers
and rot in the hollow cage of a horse

pour milk on the floor and eat the collection of bottlecaps you have there
cigarettebutts and cashew nuts
the brain floats in a blissfull marinade

rip heat eat repeat
and bang your noggin where the dishwasher sould be

'that's not good for your bones'
well la di da
when breadcrumbs hail from your floor as gravity changes its nature

give them thumbs

why can't we just start organising things better at concerts.
there is no need for all the photographers to leave the pit completely after three songs. ONE can be allowed in at a time while the others go do something else while they wait in turn.. one song for each photographer until the set is over. WHY. MUST. THIS. BE. SO. DAMN. hard.

yes, i do agree with the genreal perception that those who can't get The shot(s) during the first three songs have nothing to do in the pit, but, for us who are fiercely in love with this, it is rather painful to watch all the good moments slip from a distance afterwards. you just can't get good pictures that are rather worthwhile from the mixing table.. it's almost a sin. it's convenient, but it destroys the soul.

i don't know why people feel the need to treat us like we're scum.
most of us aren't.

what would the music scene be without epic concertphotos.

the dust settles, the worms dig

the sentence that completes itself