snapshots, incoherent

Argh, i keep disappearing. I hope you had fantastic valentines, and if not, I hope you have not been too bothered by this industrially manufactured celebration. As for myself i do like pink and red and lace and imagining things, which in this respect - once realized - always seem to have been better in one's mind. At least in mine.

Somehow I must have visited oblivion and crashed there, before I could get up. Trip postponed, Aria, Noura  I will see you there (London) I will, I must, because we share the same neglect for risk, or the same taste for adrenaline and i adore your beauty. Just a little delayed, because I am only free since the 15th. Now I am here, confused, exhausted. They gave me kindl as a farewell present (oh the irony!) and a lot of not so encouraging words. The laughed at me when I opened the cards like “that’s paper, people used to write on this hahaha”, they warned me how much money I am currently making and that I am leaving all of this behind, being so brave – or stupid - to leave. Staying in the corporate cult like world that a company like this constitutes would have been brave for a person like me. I said thank you, they whispered "oh yeah and the Oscar goes to..." while i was speaking; it was my farewell speech. It was my first real job, it was what we call a career after uni. I gambled and won, so I won't "starve" at least for a couple of months, probably a lot longer but I do not intend to sit and spend. I ‘d like to live and live and live. As I said, breakaway. Old people nag, call it risky and I call myself risqué, but as you know for some it might be dangerous, for me this job was dangerous. And if anybody is still reading who does not belong to my favourite super intelligent cool girl cast of readers – this super save well paid career you might have envied me for did almost kill me. Not in a sense of ugh, argh depression (although I know this can be lethal, too) but literally.

So I am watching layer cake now, to get my self back in the mood. The only mood. I might not ever be creating such literature, but I do adore Bret Easton Ellis, Irvine Welsh, Donna Tarrt, JJ Connolly and all those crash and burn novelists whose works jump right into your face like movies, like a bass beat, like the streets, like speed and sound. Yeah right, sound and fury, forever, Faulkner, my idol, when it comes to poetry. I am not heading there, as even I am aware of my limitations. But I am heading somewhere. And as much as it scares me, it does feel right. Aria, your comment meant the world. You said, in different times, we would have been…goddesses, on the road. I think we still are. In the three dimensions of sensuality sound and haptic stimuli we are. Sitting here and typing is part of something else. 

Oh wow how chaotic was this? Bottom line, I left the super corporate super company in order to live. I am watching movies like layer cake because its Sunday. I am on a detox, which means in my case, no sugar, no coffee, no simple carbs, no too much senseless online procrastination and work aftermath. Because that’s all I need to detox from. And I am high on ginger and lemon tea. Some preparations still have to be made. Some things need fixing. Here we go. I am on my way. I am bored with photography, it’s a tool, craftsmanship, no art in my case, so I cannot even be bothered, so I do apologize for not posting my own images. Soon enough I will. But for now here is another still from a movie (layer cake). Not because of that, but because it does look damn familiar. Love you. But you do know that.

 still from the movie layer cake