How I wish to be gone …

… or just somewhere else …

But instead I am here, whereever that is and …

But although it might seem that we are losing and the fight is lost …

But this day is not here, not yet, still we will embrace it, for it is the only day, we would enjoy. When this mess of a life is over and no one tells us how screwed we are, how bad we are, how unwanted, evil or stupid and all…

Sadly it still is just a dream, a wish a hope and for some a prayer, which wasn’t heard so far. Which seems to be pointless to think about, hopeless and lost. Still we are here, fighting each day. Fighting for our lives.

This movie made me cry both times I watched it. Just seeing a few scenes again already made me cry again. It is a different kind of movie. Seems a bit like an amateur movie at first. And maybe it was. But it is actually more realistic than most movies who seem perfect, dramatic and all that…

It tells a different story, a story of children, of fear and friendship. Of hate and grace and how everything related to war is worth nothing… No matter what kind of war. But that in each war, there are always some who follow their heart, at least at some point.

And I had to cry writing this.

Especially the ending of this movie made me break both times.

And sadly these days we have again or maybe still have these kinds of things happening around the world.

But the question stays: Where do you want to be?

And many can’t answer it anymore or never could.

This year I also heard some old stories, poems and other things on a radio channel I sometimes liked to listen to. Since my early childhood I liked to listen to radio/audio plays, all kinds of music and stories from around the world. I often listened to channels which gave me that, but then also others who just had other kinds of music. I even listened to channels from other countries. The music and talks, although I obviously didn’t understand what they were singing or talking.

A few of the things which were read and talked about this year on one of these channels, was about the time prior to the first world war. Someone described how the world changed from a bright and hopeful place, into a dark and fearful nightmare, just within days.

This man wrote about how one day, people from all kinds of nationalities and countries were sitting together, talking about the future, plans and where having a good time. Then war was declared. And these former collegues, maybe friends or more, they were ordered home. There were many rail roads, people were connected. There even was an express going through Europe towards the south-east, the “Orient Express” or how it was called. All kinds of ideas were made back then, developments, creative thoughts. All gone within a few days. He was writing that while he was driving home, he felt this darkness rising. How everything went more cold, more heartless and that probably already some troops were going the way he just came from.

And no one really wanted these wars. So why did they fight, why did they follow? Why did they do what was order and said to them? For the loyalty? For the honor? For the home land, motherland, fatherland?

In the end, all they did was killing each other, killing their former friends, possible families, brothers and soul mates. In the end, they were all just destroying, killing and marching, so a few could have their chess game, their profit and so called honor and glory… For king and country…

And the second world war was no different nor all the other wars. It was never really about freedom, hope and peace. Always just power, control and destruction, domination and profit. So many wars have been fought in the east, west against east, north against south, red against blue… but for what, for whom? For the U.S. and USSR? For the freedom or the people?

For the kingdom of heaven or just the soviet dream?

All lies… all cakes, all fakes.

So why do we fight, why do you fight?

I fight for my life and maybe yours. I fight with this, with what I got and get. Maybe from you or others and my own past and present. From my wishes and dreams, from my nightmare(s) and pain.

Why were they sitting all together more than hundred years ago?

Why did it work? And why did they still fight against each other soon after?

Because someone said, that it has to be, someone forced them, someone pushed them and made them do it.

And this never really changed because when I see the present, I see, that the next world war already started and that it won’t be like the others.

And despite all what we have or should have learned from history, others just learned from history what the rulers before them did wrong. They learn from history to get even more evil, sick, driven by power and control.

While we have learned how to see with the heart, how it always should be seen and done. That there are no borders, no differences and barriers, when it comes to the true hearts and love. And that the diversity, different abilities, flaws and strength of each and everyone, that they make us who we are. So that everyone can bring in something to make things better for everyone. To make everything more colorful, more interesting and also to learn together and help each other. Some are by nature stronger with muscles in arms and legs, some with their heart and mind. Some are just kind and creative, some are hard and solid. And others sing, others pain, others write, like I do right now. And so much more, so many more.

Why do we want to unite in the names of dead things, of wrong things?

Or even worse, why do we distant ourselves, break apart and hate, over things which are so stupid, so old and unimportant?

Who cares about borders? Only those who want to control them.

Who cares that everyone follows the rules? Only those who want to control them.

Who cares about us? No one, because we don’t want to follow these things…

You know, that probably some decades ago, like seen in some videos I found and posted here, black and white people in America were pals, good to each other, laughing together and having a good time. That I even know a family personally. A man from my village went to the U.S. and married a black woman and I think they still live there, if nothing other happened. But I don’t know much about them, to be fair.

I just wanted to say, that friends can call each others names, even things who could be seen sexist, racist or worse. Why? Because they know, that they love each other nonetheless. I mean, you shouldn’t joke about some things, but on the other hand, the whole world is a horrible joke, dark humor, I would wish to end. But instead it gets worse and worse each day, it seems. No wonder… given the times.

I don’t want another massacre, I don’t want something worse than all wars we already went through, some of which are still ongoing or starting to this day. I have two families from Iran in my village, at least as far as I know / remember, they are both from there. They have some boys and girls and they already speak german, since I live in Germany. My mother even felt connected with them a little and one of the fathers even called me “brother” altough I just have seen him maybe twice or something. Since I almost never leave the house, only at night these days or when I had to go to school or work before.

One of the wifes even felt pretty happy talking to my mother and even asked her whether she could help her get a job. While it was a little complicated to communicate, since the parents at first had trouble understanding, either the children translated or somehow it worked. And the children sometimes even talked with my mother, happy that people here are interested in them. And maybe also to train their german skills.

The previous families here, from other countries I think, they also got along with my mother well and also some other people in the village. But they were sent “home” again. One of them, if not all, had nothing left where they could go, since they gave up everything. One of the women in the village who lives next to them and also was in the village administration (a few people managing local village problems and plans), still had contact with them. And they told her, that they now live with relatives.

I just hope, that the two families which currently are here won’t be sent back, but I am pretty sure they will be…

So pointless, so stupid and depressing for everyone. There just come police vans, sometimes in the early morning, the get the people in the cars and drive them away.

If you ask me, that is exactly how it was back in the days… of “good” ol’ Nazigermany. But hey… I already figured out, that the nazis won and always were ruling anyways…

So much for the freedom, the equality and peace.

I even said, that in case I should somehow know that they will carry away the two families in my village as well, I will run there and tell them to take me with them. Or at least show them, that I won’t take this easy and won’t forget it. Because I can’t do much against a van full of police guys I don’t know and which aren’t from here.

Did you know? I even lived in the same house with the local police for almost 10 years. Just a small “police station” (more like an outpost) with one or two cars and I think 6-8 people or something.

We sometimes even made presents to each other, at least some of them. I once helped one of them with his car and we gave them some cake or such things. It was almost like family and one of them maybe could have been a father for me. I still wonder how he must feel right now. Probably very sad and lonely…

He and probably a friend sometimes even made jokes with my mother and I think his friend tried to get my mother and him together. At least it seemed this way to my mother. Sadly this friend either was sent to another station or I don’t know. And also another one of the nice police man went away.

I sometimes talked with them a few words and they were happy to see me and also saw me grow. It is still a story no one would easily believe, that me and my mother had a flat inside a police station. Just a normal flat, not because of special reasons or something. I mean, of course for me and my mother it was a special reason and security, at least at first, because of my father. But not that there was anything related to it. Anyone could have lived there.

And did you know, that even the local bank once was in our garden, having some containers there, while they were rebuilding the actual bank building? An guess what… we had to pay double the property tax, obviously couldn’t use the garden and didn’t even get something in return. While the bank probably went out free. And later probably gave some money to repair the fence and build some new parking lots… But we didn’t see a “penny”. It is all so weird…

And when there is an accident on the road or whatever… police from the next city comes here. While people here complained for years that the local police doesn’t do much. But the reality was, that they even once got a hold of a local drug circle, but on the other hand weren’t really allowed or able to do much. I mean, come one, what is that? You have a police station in the town, but when there is a car accident, even a small one, there has to be police from either the next bigger town or even the “circle” city? Which is like 15-30 minutes away?

Guess how that sounds to me…

And hey, the same happened to my local village administration. They made people here go against them and made them believe that they were changing things for the better, while there actually were already plans for things long before that. And the village administration fought for rights to build things and make things, even aggreed to let new people come here and build buildings, but were ignored when they wanted something.

It all sounds too familiar, but it is how I used to say…

“The world never changed, it only looks different.”

And now, it doesn’t do that anymore… it just is all the same…

And this in Germany, according to some, the country of thinkers, peots and reforms. Which is right, but doesn’t change the reaility, that no one in charge really cared for them…

It is everywhere in the world, but it is just sad, that it is how it was in the past. The thinkers, the writers and artists, they knew and felt years before WWII, that shit was about to happen. But people continued and let it happen. People before WWI also sensed something. And in all these other wars before and after them. Still it happened and when it comes to the pessimist in me, it “always has been” and always will be… this way.

Only my heart says: “Please, give it a chance. Even if it will happen again, like it used to happen, there can be a tomorrow afterwards.”

But since my childhood I knew, that in case the others won’t wake up in time or not forget, we won’t see this tomorrow. So how should we know, that it is better and won’t be how all the tomorrows before?

I can just say, please don’t go to the military, to the police or anything alike. Whatever they say about “Helping people, saving lives, justice…” and all that crap. I have seen german ads about the military for years now telling these things. The single soldier might actually believe it, even a friend of mine wanted to go there, but actually because he didn’t want to be a burden. He got sick there when he was still in the initiation training and so he came gome again. And in case things didn’t change, he then worked in a place for old people and also before did something similar. He has a good heart, is or at least was a smaller guy, more silent, weak and soft. I am so sorry that I broke up contact with him and all my other childhood friends. I mean many still live here or in neighbor villages. I could just walk or drive there in a few minutes and say hello… but just thinking about it, makes my heart sink. It lets it fill with so much heavy thoughts, fears, sorrow and maybe even worse. Because all my childhood and school memories come up. All what happened to me, to them and in general. This pain I had my whole life. And so I close it up again and can’t, simply can’t just talk to them. Some probably have all kinds of jobs, different lives and ways now. When I didn’t fit in back then, how should I now?

And I know that some of them might need me, that we had better days together in the past… despite all. But I can’t, not now.

I would, if I would know, that they would love me the way I loved them. That I wasn’t talking with them about me, because I knew that I would only hurt them, scare them or make them go away.

And now I see… that everything might be gone in a few days, few months or a couple of years.

And I feel more connected with this people from Iran or many other people from all around the world. Some of which I found through YouTube, some here through the blogging and some through playing games.

Sadly I also broke up contact with many of those in the past as well…

Just in the beginning of this year I almost wiped out my whole friendlist on Steam (game related social media platform). I had maybe even around hundred people at one point. Some from the U.S., some from some other countries in europe. Two guys from France, I even developed a big mod for a game together with them. I was maybe 16-17 or something and they 14 I think. One of them was good with english and the other one also was able to understand some things. And I tried a little french, since I had to learn it in school. But I wasn’t really successful.

Je ne parle pas francais parfait. 😀

(I don’t speak perfect french.)

But I really just know some words and sentences. Probably enough for basic needs and I still got hands and feet to make signs. ^^

But yeah…

And I love russian and through some movies, people and music I also started to love the arabic language and letters / signs. Russian it very direct, clear and actually an easy to learn language (but I still could myself to really learn it…) and arabic has something poet and magical. At least when I see things written in arabic and here people “like me” talking or singing. Not like when the people with the guns, the quoran or whatever are talking… then I just get the chills. But actually the language or book doesn’t matter here. Take a bible, or any other religious thing and change the flags and it is the same….

I feel way more comfortable with people from other countries than people in my own village. I would trust this one family form Iran with my life, since the father even called me brother. But I wouldn’t say the same about people in my village and most people in my country in general.

I would even trust drug dealers or a drunken russian (of which I at least knew some) more, than a smart and well-known german guy.

I would trust a woman who slept with many men or people in general way more, than one who goes every sunday to church or is a good citizen.

You know why? Because these people have seen the worst, have hurt the worst, felt the worst and maybe done things they might not be proud of (when they are alone). But they keep going and try to live somehow in this broken world. And in the end most of the are just used or scared by others who take advantage of them…

It really says something about our society and the world in general, when I trust those more who are said to be unworthy, not trust-worthy, criminals, unlawful or whatever.

I would of course not want, that they would have to do what they are or were doing, but I am also just a human… just a single soul who is powerless alone. Otherwise I would have got rid of all of this madness right away. I don’t want this madness and anyone who tries to convince you, that it is a dream you put upon yourself to see how much you can take, is crazy.

Because why would you do that? This is insane.

I tried to do such things, because I wanted to die and because everything else seemed insane to me as well. So you could say, I just tried to make myself more like everyone else… or just escape.

But I know… there is none for me, especially not now.

In some countries and probably even in my own, in secret, are children sold or even little girls get married to old men, so they can have fun and sex or whatever. There are even things like a marriage for sex, although it is called otherwise. I mean you can marry a woman or sometimes even an underage girl in some arabic countries, just for some money and a few hours, days or months. I mean, for me and some other people this is clear child and women abuse, prostitution and in general a crime. But for some religious people, this is God’s will or at least, that God is willing to accept it. As long as the money is enough, of course. Of course….

Some of these children and women want to kill themselves and did.

Some escaped or whatever happened or happens to them.

And people know… but it continues.

I really don’t want to be on this planet, in this world and alive….

But I have to for them and the others who fight with me, for an actual freedom and end of this all. This madness, insanity and endless war and crimes.

Why… why… can’t it be over already…

You know, that people like me, usually take things personal, even things which clearly aren’t and can’t be personal. Like movies or songs, since basically anyone could watch or listen to them.

And so when there is something I could feel guilty about, I most likely will feel guilty about. And people like my father then even build up on it and make me feel even more guilty, while he is the one who should feel guilty and stop what he does…

So when I say something like: “You have to be good.” Then please don’t do the same mistake I did and accept that you can’t be good. Because this is wrong. Usually those who should take such words to heart and brain, they ingore it and continue the way there were. Giving a shit about it. And then people like me read it and feel guilty, feel pain and think that we should die, should not be, because we can’t do much about it. Can’t help it…

But the truth is, that compared to others, we might actually were “good” the whole time, the others were just “good” in hiding everything bad away or convincing us that it was us, our fault.

A good soul feels pain, feels guilt and also fights for justice. And a good soul is allowed to be free, to live and have fun as well as sorrow.

Feelings are normal and people like me usually are good in hiding them or getting blaimed or whatever when showing them.

People like me feel guilty for telling the truth, since no one really seems to do that. People like me think they are shit, because they did a bad things.

Like taking drugs, having sex, watching porn, having a feeling of killing someone, when we hate something or someone, or just harm ourselves in plenty ways. When we want to die and try to die so hard.

We feel guilt or if not then, then soon after and always at some point.

Often just a day is enough. Each day without these feelings is a good day.

Some people have a few bad days in a month. People like me, have a few good days in their life.

And this is not about “I am the one who takes the most pain” or whatever… this is no contest, challenge or whatever… this is just horrible.

And so when I say, that I wish no one has to live my life, please take it serious. And don’t tell me, that I should feel good about myself. I can do that, when I feel safe and when there is nothing telling me otherwise.

Don’t tell me, that life is great, that I should feel good about having a heating, enough to eat, a house and no war around the corner.

Because you then don’t know what I went through, although it might be true from your perspective. For me it wasn’t and probably never will be.

I am someone who thought as a child, that I would do anything to change places with someone who has it worse than me. That I would change place with someone in a war zone or whatever, as long as they could then have my chances and live their life. Because as I child I already knew, that I won’t be able to live mine or do what I want. And that I must be a problem, so it would be better that I die and not someone else or that I go through horrible things, than someone else. Since I was used to it anyway and therefor I thought, that it was better when I go through it, instead of someone who wasn’t used to it or couldn’t live with it.

I would probably sell my body on the black market, if it would make a difference, but it wouldn’t… since money is part of the problem and then others would just profit out of my and other people’s misery again.

I would catch a bullet for someone else, if I could.

But instead I am here…

Doing this…

And so I am trying my best to make something of it. To make an impact like thousand nuclear bombs or whatever. Because otherwise it would happen anyway, that everyone becomes dead inside or outside, like a zombie. Like it always was and will be… it seems.

But there are so many people who don’t want this, who would be happy to see a better future, a completely different and bright one.

But so far, I just found the light bulbs again, but not enough light, to replace the old and broken ones with the new ones. Or just switch those one who never broke.

So the room stays dark for the most part and only some with they candles, matches and night visions can see, while the others stumble around. Hitting themselves and others and walk over dead bodies, dead dreams and boxes of shit…


And you have to feel good about yourself, to make a change or at least feel for others who can’t do it themselves. But it so damn… DAMN hard, when almost everyone around you seems to know better and wants to drag you down… And rob your happiness, your love and hope because they lost it themselves and don’t know how to get it again.

I would give it to them all and try so hard, but they can’t really see, don’t want to… I think sometimes or simply gave up…

I just have to replay the ending scene in front of my inner eye again and again and cry… 😭

It was so sad, so powerful and while it seemed all so pointless it somehow gave it all a good ending. Although good is something else…

Probably the best random movie I have ever seen and for sure one I won’t forget.

As well as this one, based on a tragic even, a collision of two planes in Germany, in Überlingen. Down there where the “Bodensee” (Lake Constance) is and even a lake called “Überlinger See” (Lake Überlingen).

Many people died there and in the end they blamed this one guy who was sitting there alone at night in his office. With broken equipment. He even wanted to apologize by the remaining family members and friends, but the company he was working for, was against it. And in the end he got killed by one of the people, a man who lost his whole family. And this flight controller felt horrible about what happened, tried his best to stop what had happened with the planes and was simply alone with it all. There was a problem with the radio and at some point the wrong plane got the wrong command and so in the end the both flew right into each other. Usually this situation would have been no big deal. One plane flies up, one down. But because of this broken communication device and because he was alone, because his collegue went home earlier… this mess happened.

And he wasn’t even allowed to say his deep and honest feelings to the people who lost their loved ones. Because this damn company didn’t want to lose their reputation or investors or whatever image… they had.

Probably even threatened this flight controller, in case he would do otherwise as they told him to do. And in the end this flight controller got killed… a good man who really wasn’t the one who was responsible for it all. Who really wanted and would have made it all unhappened, if he could have. And I think this was the first movie I ever really cried out loud about. Back when I was maybe 11 or something. Also the second time I watched it.

Usually I can’t cry, even if I would want to. But some things just make me cry and cry again. Usually things which are real, where is a high injustice, sorrow and a lot of heart put into it.

This is the world we live in, in which the only one who cares gets killed in the name of justice, rage or whatever. Who gets blamed, shamed and tortured or simply ignored.

But everyone else can continue, has still a nice job, nice life or whatever they believe in… while the shit is burning, the shit is exploding and killing people every day, minute and second…

But who cares… it is a beautiful world we live in…………. 😭😭😭

Each time I saw this scene my heart broke…

The father who lost his family wanted an apology, the flight controller was already done and broken inside and then they fight and the father kills him and his wife and daugther have to see him die. And she screams for help, but no one comes.

Would they both have been able to speak together before and not like this, they probably would have cried together. But since the father who lost his family wanted revenge (understandable), but got to the wrong one… and the flight controller couldn’t do this anymore as well. Because he already was torn apart by his company, the press and laws… While he had his own family he had to take care of…

And so it ends… one dies…

And you know… this flight controller could have made a difference, when still alive. So only this movie about him and maybe some news remain and another broken family, hurts hearts…

This movie scene reminds me of my mother, when I was little and my father was aggressive again, choking or beating her or me… The village was dead silent, as if nothing happened…

And so it ends… how it always ends, it seems.

You know… in the 20s, the 1920s, there was a great depression.

The money was worth nothing anymore. You could literally use it to paint the walls or burn it. People were going to buy a bread with billions and trillions of their currency (back then in germany it was called “Reichsmark”, I think). Then the market went down, people were pissed, the nazis came on to power and the rest is well know. They won and the whole shit continued. And guess what time it is? You heard me…

And it will happen… it always happened. It is happening right now, right in front of all of our eyes. But maybe, just maybe it will be the last time. Or by the chance of a quadrillion to one, maybe this time it will not happen. That we will not let us killed like puppets and grass and flowers and bees. But that we fight back, with all what we got. And if it might be not for us, but the children. So that they won’t have to relive what our grandparents or grand grandparents had to. And in somecases people my age and others children to this very day, in countries and regions around the world.

Where the U.S., russian or german soldier, is as much as your friend as the ISIS fighter or the banker or so called presidents. As much as the dollor is worth a penny, at the end of the day and a life is not even worth the wood for a cross or the stones to burry it.

Is it Bach or is it Mozart?

_ I call it “Bach” … since “Bach” is one word for river.

_ I call it “Mozart” … since it is a form of art, moz art.

_ I call it “normal” … since this is what happens every day.

In some form, somewhere, all the time.

Not here right now, but soon again.

It always was like this and will be… if the cycle continues.

And I would do more, but right now this seems to be the only thing I can do. Like all these artists, film makers and other fantastic people.

We try our hardest, with our hearts and minds and love.

But it never seems enough… because people don’t get it or do they?

I can only hope and pray and continue, until I am dead, it is all over or I don’t know…

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