I have to go soon.

Like she had to as well…





Someone will live, but a ghost is a ghost.

So I should fully become one in order to give everyone the peace they need.

That they can be happy about little things, like I sometimes still do.

That they can fight with their small problems a hundred times again.

And I will be watching… just watching…

No matter where I will go, the hope to not be alone is a hope I don’t need. I know for myself that I always was and will be alone with the great things in my heart and mind. What could have been, could be and never will be.

Why can’t today be the last day for me? Just a heart attack and gone..

There is nothing in this world to make it better and I will not be able to change it, or does anyone care?

All could be exciting, people being together, friends discovering creative ways to have free energy, so have safe and easy things, which actually last a life time or longer. Could be… could have been… but no one really wanted me, wanted it and wanted people like me.

School, training, work and death. The life of men, the life since when…

I wouldn’t want to die in a world with all freedom. But I guess even with it I wouldn’t be able to anymore. Too long is the time of dispair, the time I got dragged back down.

I know I could and can do a lot with the right people, but I never really found them. And when I thought I had, it was all just a lie, an illusion.

I stay because I have to, because I promised.

But I am not really good with these, since promises towards me also weren’t really a thing to care about. As if a promise is a joke.

A joke I don’t get, for a life I don’t have.

For the most part I only stay because of this bit of hope I see in some artists out there. Some friends I got. And because I have to stay for those who might be where I was.

But it doesn’t matter, when it won’t change the world and therefor the reason why I can’t live, even if I still wanted to. I have no problem with an actual life, but what I got is only society contructed task driven, money needing machine cycle.

Let it die, let all this madness end.


Why do I keep writing this here and putting all this music in here?

It will not make a difference anymore and people will only feel more alone and down, in case they should get out of contructed world view.

I am just repeating myself, just writing about this endless scream in my head. But what does it help…

I know that I am dead and except for the image or mask some people have about what they think I am or who they want me to be, I am a stranger anyway. So why should they care, if all they know is the name my parents gave me and a face which doesn’t even express how I would see me. In all my forms, shapes, ways and feelings.

Today I thought again about ending my life, only that because of a series I started today, I was again capable of doing such an action. But I could hold myself back. But then again, for whom? Not for myself, only for those who I promised to stay and for this hope that we might be together one day and actually build up a new world, based on love and not fear.

But these are dreams… and usually only the nightmare came true. Like my whole life, with good moments I couldn’t really enjoy.

I wanted to live, wanted to show everyone who much, with all my talents, ideas and imagination. But it was too much, was misunderstood and laughed about. Now I really don’t think that I even could do much about it anymore. All I want is this to be over forever.

But I am here, waking up or not evening going to bed, each day.

Because I care… too much. And then can’t do a thing to change it. And those who could don’t want that. Even get praised for their ignorance.

I don’t care about all that… it is all pointless.

WHY DO IT WRITE HERE ANYMORE!

delete me finally and everything what is mine

Trapped in a lot of loops I got thrown into because it wasn’t okay to not be (free) without any.

I would cry, laugh and maybe even sing. But around here that isn’t a thing.

My father just comes to tell us that he goes to church, like any other Sunday. My mother eats something and watchs some movies or people talking.

And I think about what could be but never will be and how I might die tomorrow, yesterday or even today. Since everyday is the same day, only a little different weather and words and times. Over and over again.

And I am literally sick of it, it broke me, breaks me and I can’t change it, sick of trying to. Each time I try, I only get weaker. Because I can’t see the point anymore I will never be free and never was meant to be.

Why waiting……………………….

Only because I promised to.

Hope was never a problem for me, it was that I always had too much, while no one wanted to hear. And now tell depressing things no one wants to hear. When all I want is a world in which hearts, imagination and people similar to me are worth something. Worth the time and worth the trust. But everyone except us know of course better, until the world burns and then we will be to blame yet again. Because after pointless hope, we got hopeless pain. Always wrong, always the wrong way….

Feels like a life sentence in prision for the selfish act of spreading hope…

… for being creative, hyper active and interesting in everything.

Would I have just died as a kid or maybe those satanists would have taken me away as a child, if it really was them who later got caught for another crime… then all of this would have been over. At least for the others. Because for me there will only be this, since love and hope are for the weak, are unwanted and stupid. Like everything I did and wanted, even when noone else could do it. Still silly, a waste of time and not really needed.

And now I hate it …. because when I loved it, it also wasn’t right.

But yes… it must be my fault that I lived.

If only I could allow myself to let go and die. But I had to stay for hope and others. Why…. why do I have to do this, when I could have ended it.

Never my will, never my life, never …. always wrong what I do.

Just let me live and show you, but no one wants to wait, to see to know. There is always something better, something easier or nicer.

Who needs an open minded friend, when there is a world full of “wonder”.