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Das Leben ist schön, aber auch schwer,
für manche zu kurz, für andere nicht fair.
Wenn es anders kommt als man denkt,
da ist der eine schon mal gekränkt.
Der andre sieht es mit Begeisterung,
so hat das Leben für ihn noch Schwung.

Aber wenn ein Virus die ganze Welt befällt
und alles zerschellt - das geht ins Geld.
Dann ist auch unser Wohlstand schon bedroht,
und die Lebensqualität gerät in Not.

Regierungen versuchen uns zu schützen,
auch mit Finanzspritzen zu unterstützen,
aber die Spritzen in den Oberarm
sehen Leugner mit größtem Alarm.

Nun dachte man, die Welt hat sich vereint
und kämpft gegen den gemeinsamen Feind,
doch gibt es Leute mit denen kann man nicht reden,
sie können alles stets anders belegen.
Sie meinen, auf die da oben kann man nicht zählen,
deren Plan sei, ihnen die Freiheiten zu stehlen.

Dieses Misstrauen könnte uns leicht zerspalten,
dann wäre ein Bürgerkrieg kaum aufzuhalten.
Wie könnten Leugner ihre Angst verlieren,
damit sie endlich neues Vertrauen riskieren?

Wir sollten gute Beispiele setzen,
uns kümmern um den Ersten und den Letzten.
So entsteht ein guter Gemeinschaftssinn
für alle Ausgegrenzten ein Gewinn.

Ein respektvoller Umgang miteinander, der oft fehlt,
ist was zählt, so sehr zählt, zählt und zählt und zählt.

meine Liebe
mein Leben
meine ganze Welt,
ich liebe dich.

Wir schreiten vor
Der Winter steht bevor
Und keine Ahnung
Ob der Sommer
Und der Herbst
Das war, was es sich wünschte,
Unser Herz.

Zwischen dem Blick
Zurück und dem nach vorne,
Entreißen wir uns immer wieder
Dem Moment.
In all den Wünschen, Träumen, Illusionen,
uns zu verlieren ist unser Talent.

Vertrauen zu entschlüsseln,
Zu uns und zu den anderen,
Verliert sich in den Tausenden
Scherben des Misstrauens,
Zweifel und Unsicherheit,
Verfolgen uns wie ein Pfeil.
Und eh wir uns versehen,
Hat die Angst uns in den Krallen.

Wir dürfen bluten.
Oft ist's uns fast egal,
Wir wollen nicht vor Schmerzen schreien,
Hauptsache niemand weiß,
Wie's um uns steht.
Und niemand weiß,
Wie es uns wirklich geht.

Verhält ein Held sich so?
So Selbstvernichtungs-froh?
Wir opfern uns dem Überlebensmechanismus,
Denn lieber rennen wir das ganze Leben,
Als zu uns selbst zu stehen,
Uns selbst zu sehen,
Verdammt, wir sind nicht hier,
Nur um zu überleben!

left home at 10am: came back home at 10pm...
at Romford ordered 6 spicy chicken wings
for £3... ate them with such a relish
perhaps even some relief... didn't eat anything
since 12pm...
i felt relieved to be eating something when
truly hungry... i think that's important:
eating something when you're truly hungry:
reliving ancient days when a man would
have to hunt...
                        like Socrates "said":
some people live to eat...
                                  while others eat to live...
i'm persuaded by the latter category:
everything tastes all the better...
    i'm not talking about starving... i'm talking
fasting...

the best atmosphere at Wembley so far...
     Nottingham Forest vs. Huddersfield...
the most pleasant crowd so far...
no one really running into me and trying to
hug me while at the same time bruising me
from all the joy... over such trivial matters...
then again... people invest years and years
into watching soap operas on t.v.
Forest's sitcom "suspended sentence" has been
running for 23 years after being relegated
to the lesser league... i was actually chatting
to this colt about: how he wasn't even born
when Forest was a high-flying football club...

fist bumping: 'i want your children'...
getting candy from a lady after i helped her out
to get a cleaner to clean the pigeon ****
off her seat... blah blah...
full smile one: genuine...
     i already have the silver linings:
smile wrinkles under around my eyes...
and grey hair making a conquest
around my sideburns... i really am 36...
i feel like i'm 36 years old...
it feels good to be 36 years old...
this confident and at the same this reserved:

it's a good thing i visited the brothel
and sat there, in the waiting room... intimidated
by about 10 prostitutes... asking all of them to choose
being told by one: you can't do that!
then telling the one that told me that:
oh, fair enough... you'll do... since you're the mouthy one...

i ate my six spicy chicken wings:
no point getting a meal with chips...
the ratio of meat to batter on those wings sort
of counters the point of having chips...
smoked a cigarette in the fresh air... ah...

back to the stadium...
     a lot of young boys making makeshift
paper aeroplanes from paper left on every seat
for the opening ceremony...
i was thinking: what if someone was
to randomly turn around and that paper aeroplane
would hit them in the eye?
no matter... the boys were having fun...

people trying to bring alcohol and drink it in view
of the pitch... body language took over:
i just insinuated... and i was obeyed...
talk about owning a dog but not owning
a leash... i'd love to own a dog like i might be a cat:
i can' imagine stressing a cat with either
accessory of a leash or a muzzle...
so why would i do that to a dog?
i see foxes freely roaming... i couldn't...

more hugs, handshakes, fist-bumps...
for some reason... stroking the new lucky charm
of Nottingham Forest: an inflatable banana...
funny, that... my nickname at university
was BANAN... because i once wore
the Velvet Underground t-shirt to a party...

i was stroking the inflatable banana for good luck...
everyone managed to get the joke...
it's good... to find oneself in / with appeal
among a crowd of strangers...
in the moment? they're better than friends...
everything remains puddle deep...
it's veneer but at the same time it's not veneer...

only racial minorities will continue to complain
about the English (people)...
but... being a good judge of character...
i was supposed to be paired up...
i ended up doing most of the shift on my own...
because some copper-neck was slacking...
every time some **** hit the fan he would
come across as too authoritative...
or he would disappear...

it's not a judge of "colour"...
that's the descriptive element of MY language...
one excuse after another...
i was supposed to be giving the benefit of the doubt
to a slacker...
   my supervisor... beyond copper-neck
excused him with the words: oh... benefit of the doubt...
he's just work shy... work shy? work shy?!
lazy... but not lazy enough to
    climb up the tree and try the arithmetic of
straightening bananas, no?!

i don't need an extra hassle if i can do this job
by myself...

"we" reached a sentimental zenith with this one
guy, i.e. me and him... about old Wembley...
how i managed to see the 1995 charity shield
match between Manchester United and Newcastle...
how i was doing my job...
because i kindly pointed him to a slot on the wall...
some 1985 Act about not drinking in view
of the pitch... at a football event...

and he came back at me: it's people like you
that make... my first time at Wembley...
so special... you're just doing your job...
   i'm perfecting my orientation: i just give off
body language cues... i'm not going to shout...
i make that suggestion of: being placed
before the guillotine... cut-it-out...
even a deaf person could understand me:
i extend my fingers... and make a cutting motion
across my neck... moving my hand right to left...

that helps...
   no... my father: i was a roofer too, once upon a time...
wouldn't call it work... managing a crowd is
not really work... once you're left in a trench
of dealing with inanimate things that always:
always obey your every whim is work...
but dealing with people is never work...

fair enough... what a lovely day...
   it's Wembley and i love taking the Metropolitan Line
from Wembley Park to Liverpool St.,
mind you... come Wednesday i do hope that
that coming Jubilee will ensure the major night tube lines
will be open... i dread taking the night buses home
even thought the Argentina vs. Italy match is supposed
to finish at around 10:30pm....

hell... i don't care if i'm being underpaid...
i don't think i am... i'm getting paid to "work"
while other people pay... circa £100 for a seat...
stroking an inflatable banana for good luck:
it's going to become a Nottingham Forest gimmick:
a good luck charm...
i'm feeling it... Nottingham Forest & bananas...

in that kind of scenario i was genuinely for them
winning against Huddersfield...
why? well... on the way in i heard rumours
that Nottingham Forest only got promoted
on penalty shoot-outs...
i needed a 90min closure... if it wasn't
a 90min closure... i would have left at...
perhaps 10pm... got home at 12am...
   obviously i was supporting the Nottingham crowd...
i even took a "break" 10 minutes from the end
to share in their drama enthusiasm of a supporter...

another thing? you notice it...
just before the match...
i stood with my arms folded behind my back...
"lip-reading": i couldn't sing...
the national anthem...
   people notice that...
          i'm not "one of them": but i am "one of them"...
she's still my Queenie...
only racial minorities have a problem
with the English...
i don't have a problem with the English...
i think the English people are spectacular people...

i made a mistake of studying in Scotland-Sock-Land...
i should have studied in Liverpool...
Newcastle... why is it that the further up you go
the women are friendlier and prettier?!
more Norse genes?!

why am i writing about work?
nothing interesting is happening in the idea department
of my 'ead...
   literally... nothing...
only today i thought: it would be worthwhile to read
a book... rather than a newspaper...
this book has ben bugging me for some time...

thank god i don't have the Latin original...
it's all in English...
Ovid's ****** Poems...
i don't do chapters... esp. not when commuting...
and to intimidate the possible onlookers...
my book-note?
   a 100 rouble banknote...
    yay! "Ukraine"...
                              really?
                i really don't care about Ukraine...
why would i give a **** about Ukraine...
if Ukraine will not give Lvov back to the original
architects of the city?!

i'm seriously not the man who heard a choir
in an empty church and a great wind
that subsequently dispersed it back in 2007...
i'm the guy with... Nik Kershaw's
wouldn't it be good playing on repeat in my head...
on silent mode...

nothing truly beats ancient Roman poets...
i'm reliving an experience that was originally intended
to remain stale... moulded... gathering dust on
my shelf... i've owned a book by Ovid for...
when awake? you count donkeys...
when trying to stay awake: you count donkeys...
sure... then trying to fall asleep you count sheep:
imitation clouds...
but Ovid... Ovid was always going to surpass
my esteem for either Virgil and Horace...
Ovid was always going to cut the argument short...

like today... two guys were adamant on an argument...
Hazard or Salah...
i was asked the question when the shift ended...
Hazard or Salah?
my reply? Hazard... when he played for Chelsea...
hands down...
what team do you support? West Ham...
  see! see! the response came! what bias?!
a West Ham supporter can't support anything good
about Chelsea! just because these guys haven't
seen Hazard in his prime at Real Madrid...

             it's true... Hazard at Chelsea...
Lukaku at Inter Milan...
              you think that Haaland and City is
a match-made-in-heaven?
   i doubt it...
        some players should just stick to the atmosphere...
Mark Noble at West Ham...
Steven Gerrard at Liverpool...
        you can't just transfer someone's soul
from one body to another like you: "supposedly" can
in the Hindu concept of reincarnation...
no!
              e.g.? the Watkin's Tower makes a lot of sense...
since... the prime icons of London are hardly
reminding anyone that this construction
exists... because: competition with Paris' Eiffel
suffocated the idea into a: misnomer of: ooh!
icon of architecture!
it isn't...
                   the "idea" concerning the architecture
of the tower of Eiffel in Paris worked...
Watkin's Tower is hardly central...
what has London have? pseudo-communist
Barbican: as the saying goes...

either you are happy with what you have...
or you have what you are happy with...

London is not a ******* cliche Las Vegas...
sure... sure... lodge a ******* pseudo-Eiffel
next to St. Paul's cathedral and
let's rewrite Handel's Messiah with
some dub-step DROP interludes...

******* overshadowing pyramid-height chasers...

****'s sake... i can see the Watkin's Tower
from Mashiters Hill... or... wait...
was that from a roof at one of the office blocks...
near St. Paul's... the Scottish Widows' HQ
when i joked: isn't that... the Eiffel?

it's that genius of Ovid's observations...
about touching one's ear lobes to provide evidence
of disinterest...
while at the same time: oh modern optics...
back in the elder times... perhaps fiddling
with one's ring on one's ring finger was a sign
of approval... but lately i've noticed that women
place a ring on either their index or *******:
as if implying:
i do not require to be wed...
    a ring placed on the index or *******:
a ring placed on the *******?!
*******! marriage! *******: pair-bonding!
let's make the nobility of swans extinct!
and on the index... who knows?!

i yawn at the football match,
concentrating my attention on the crowd...
i murmur the national anthem of:
god save the queen and i spot an alliance...
someone in the crowd feels "secure" that i'm murmuring
alongside them a pride:
not a homosexual pride... just an outright...
as i fiddle with my fu manchu...

   and my... competing love-patch in length...
blonde... competing in length with my beard's length...
like some ancient Cossack...

the Slavic proverb stands solid:

wenn unter krähen: du krächzen wie sie!
when among crows: you croak like them!

i find myself very accommodating...
when it's required...

i need no "other" place to visit... i need to become
more of a spider and weave more of my web
and strangle the topography of London
to my demands... of the commute...
       as much as i'd love to escape to the Faroe Islands...
i don't think i could ever leave London
behind... as much as i loved Edinburgh on first
impressions... i could leave Edinburgh...
i don't think i could ever leave London...
seeing it morph: diverge: grow...
                        i don't think i could ever leave
London...
Loon-doon...
          
die ganze welt ist hier! pfauen ihre sprachen!
the whole world is here! peacocking their languages!
while i come with my toy-zeppelins!
während ich kommen sie mit mein
spielzeugzeppeline!

such beautiful people come to visit London,
all of them seem to be pouring from the north
of the country...
whether it's Liverpool... Newcastle...
personally? i don't like the people from Manchester...
don't ask me why...
you can't exactly be proud of being from London...
mind you: just cycling past London Bridge
into the fringes of south London and you
get the feeling that you're in a completely different city...
such beautiful people...
i think (therefore i doubt, or rather,
i am certain) that i overshot my mark when i studied
chemistry in Scotland: i should have studied somewhere
in the north of England: even the "ugliest" / neglected
women from up north are beautiful...
all the girls down south are: seemingly stuck up
*******... psychological warfare constant...
with the girls from the north... you smile:
they smile back... you keep eye contact they keep
eye contact...
i feel all fuzzy-hugging bear around them...
i still don't understand why all the men want
to take a selfie with me...
   wasn't i supposed to be this warped introvert
that was afraid to talk?
   i must have a parasitical ego in my head:
a cognitive saboteur... i know i can deal with it
in third person: it can blah blah (the ego) all it wants...
but i catch it off guard... and... my countenance
balances it out...
      
i really have a soft spot for 1980s pop music...
i almost forgot that
the more popular song by Nik Kershaw was:
wouldn't it be good...
rather than: the riddle...
   every 10 minutes a walk down down the aisle...
and she was sitting so far away...
but she still managed to catch my eye...
smiled the prettiest of smiles...
i smiled back: did i show her my pristine set
of marble of my teeth?
i didn't wink at her like Odin might...
i used both my eyes... funny...
it looked sort of like this... anime:

(
            )
(

                    (my eyes were sad... but my happy lips
pulled up the sadness, raven hair... eyes as softened
and brown as a Van Morrison song...)

funny that...

)
           (
)

the face of man: implies... three crescent moons...
i don't think Chinese ideograms could
possibly master this simplicity...
three moons cover the exactness of the ******
expression of man...

can you eat sushi while walking?
disposing of the wasabi, the pickled ginger...
the soya sauce?! apparently you can...
i just did... by the time i got to the bus stop
i already ate the raw fish and the rice...
i had 10 minutes spare to drink a bottle of cider
and smoke my 3rd cigarette of the day...

and behind me? in the world war I memorial?
a fight of totems!
a crow was chasing a fox... the fox didn't want to have
a fight...
mesmerising... the crow managed
to chase the fox into the shadows and the night...
only yesterday i started to focus on a little detail:
how my cycling shadow disappears
into: merges with the shadow of trees...
i'm there: i'm not... i'm there: i'm not...

every time these girls from up north visit
London i fall in love... but...
it's unlike the sort of way i used to love in with...
it's more cautious... measured...
****'s sake... i should have studied at Newcastle...
Liverpool...
by the attitude of these women?
i would have been married by now...
i would have been paying off a mortgage by now...
i would be taking Matthew Jr. to a football match...

yet here i am... strapped to London...
and... the whole world is here!
die totum.... die ganze welt ist hier!
alles zungen!
            alles! ist hier!

                          the perfect job when you're writing
on the side...
money comes in from the south...
money flies off to the north...
i know the terrible is coming:
the mortality of my parents...
i'll help around the garden...
the house...
but?!
       looking at these people...
from the north of England... Stoke-on-Trent...
the closest to me will die...
and they will die... i think i will disappear...
whatever "friends" i had... i never had any...
i prefer strangers...
i prefer new connections...
what reason would i have if the gods not telling me:
as i was burning bridges in a dream:
i wouldn't be burning bridges in reality...
i prefer strangers because:
there's no point to make oneself familiar with
friendly shackles: friendship shackles...
there's only that cordial... informal...
neighbourhood stranger... oh hello...
that's enough! that's plenty!

a crow attacking a fox... for territory...
imagine that...
i never thought that crows could become
so territorial: *******...
apparently they can... the audacity to attack
a fox...

an early night... some clementine(s)...
life is actually worth living:
even toward its most painful last... breath...
people are beautiful...
some get more... some get less...
just believe that only the gods can ever become
jealous: or rather, only one god was ever jealous....
only one god undermined all the other Semitic gods...
because... the same crown-prince of the Semitic gods
could never undermine the gods of the Gentiles...
or "eat them"... since... the Gentile alphabet is
still here... ergo?
  self-explanatory...

i'm wishing that i get to flirt with the girls from
Nottingham tomorrow...
i don't want the girls from Huddersfield...
then again: anything north of Watford is...
juicy oyster, by oyster, by count of oyster...
by count of no oyster...
        they smile: you smile...
    hell... bonus points when they pucker up
the courage and end up wanting to kiss your cheeks
or stroke your beard...

northern girls are so... so... so... so...
love-struck! i love the northern longing!
to play chess blind!
to play backgammon with broken fingers!
to play cards with origami!
           cheeky little *******...
                     every time i look at them
i feel like being a stepfather to strangers...
i know: it's not a welcome sentiment...
but then again... would it be a welcome sentiment
to have when the Manchester Arena bombing happened?!

Stille
Einmal kurz durchatmen
Die einzige Leerstelle im Gehirn
Die ich mag
Schön, dass du da bist
Schön dich zu sehen
Hier bei mir

Viele Kleinigkeiten machen ein Leben aus
Wir sammeln sie
Geben weiter und nehmen mit
Tragen uns gegenseitig durch die Welt
Bis zum letzten "Aus"

Und doch zerbrechen wir uns den Kopf bei den großen Dingen
Zumindest wenn sie groß klingen
Lasst uns trauern
Zwischen gemeinsam und alleine
Lasst uns feiern, lasst uns essen
Am Ende muss man lernen
Immer weiter zu machen
Weiter zu leben

Schon wieder etwas verloren
Jemanden
Auf dem Weg gelassen
Schon fasst vergessen
Schon wieder etwas mehr allein
Aber nur scheinbar

Vieles geht im Alltag unter
Großer wie Kleines
Manche Dinge kommen wieder
Manche schleichend und leise
Manche plötzlich, schreiend, laut

Lasst uns einen Moment verweilen
Hier und jetzt
Zusammen schweigen
Tritt ein *******zurück
Und lausch
Betrachte das Ganze
Schau was du sehen kannst von hier

Genieß den Ausblick
Solange du magst
Und dann komm langsam zurück
Zurück zu mir