literary rhapsodies, emotional outbursts, bad puns and creative output from a slightly distracted and highly disturbed mind with a big heart and an occasionally dark sense of humour
It’s October 31st, and there’s reason to celebrate. No, not Halloween. It’s my good friend and colleague ACC’s birthday. Admittedly, I am going to a Halloween party later tonight and I am dressed up as Eleven (the Doctor, not the Stranger Thing) but birthday treats before the tricky ones. Now my friend ACC is a…
Could be me, to be honest, but comes from non other than one of the greatest German composers: J O H A N N E S B R A H M S 1833-1897 Johannes Brahms. The all-time bachelor with a beard and belly so mighty even Santa Clause envies it. More than 200 songs, concert…
Pasta is the best. Period. There’s absolutely no arguing about it. Fuck low carb. Fuck zoodles. Zoodles. I mean come on. I love zucchini. But I want them WITH my pasta not AS my pasta. That’s just not right. Talking about zucchini, why are the Brits the only one calling them courgettes? French cuisine, o…
But a little outside input won’t hurt. [it would, though] In a few days, I will be starting a person-centered counseling – zu deutsch: Gesprächstherapie, which is also the name I prefer because it makes it more about talking and less about counseling or psychoanalysing and whatnot. Definitely makes it sound less intimidating. And me…
Last semester at FernUni Hagen was all about Großstadtliteratur (urban literature? Metropolitan literature? Eh, books about big city life. You get it.) and provided me with a huge collection of extracts and excerpts from the finest authors from the turn of the 19th/20th century. I’ve read some Rilke and some Raabe, the whole fivehundredsomething pages…
It was one of those humid days when the atmopshere gets confused. Sitting on the porch, you could feel it: the air wishing it was water. Photo: Ryan McGinley, Deep Creek (Hot Springs), 2005 Quote: Jeffrey Eugenides – Middlesex
Fritz Zorn meets Arcade Fire meets The Intellectual Chaos. I’ve scribbled and drawn this during a time I felt really bad. The Jüngling had just dumped me (via text message while he was on a faculty party less than 10min away from me), I was heartbroken, I ate nothing but dark chocolate (Schwarze Herrenschokolade) and…
Whereas I, even now, persist in believing that these black marks on white paper bear the greatest significance, that if I keep writing I might be able to catch the rainbow of consciousness in a jar. Middlesex is Jeffrey Eugenide’s second novel. After the much promising The Virgin Suicides, it was not surprising that his…
Confession: I suffer from slugophobia. Not sure that word exists (yet), but I use it anyway to describe my very unnatural abhorrence of those slimy little bastards. Shell or no shell, slug or snail – doesn’t matter. I see one, I freeze, I panic. Molluscophobia is the proper name for it. I was scared of…
A Stream of Consciousness that had to get out. Do you know the feeling when you’re lonely, when you’re desperatly longing for someone to text you, check up on you and ask you a simple “hey, what you up to?” (not the booty call kind of text). And if you do, do you furthermore also…