Lost and found in Berlin

My journey in Berlin

[lostandfoundinberlin]

Spying on my neighbor

Last night I jerked off while spying on my neighbor I stood in the kitchen while I suddenly saw half of a naked body passing the window I quickly turned off all the lights so I could see better

My neighbor is around my age Young, attractive, male I’ve seen him before sitting behind his computer Wavy brown hair, glasses and a kind face I like wavy brown hair, glasses and a kind face This was not the first time I looked at him

I saw his torso and penis In a reflex I looked away, as you do when someone trips and you accidentally see it happening But I directly looked again, the confidence he had in his movement aroused me

He turned a light off but a candle was still lit It was then that I saw someone else laying on the floor Normally the neighbor doesn’t sleep there, but apparently with someone else they put the mattress on the floor

To my surprise I noticed it was another male figure Not that my neighbor couldn’t be gay, but most of the time when I’m attracted to someone they’re straight

The neighbor sat down with his back to me, I could see a little bit of his ass Smooth and soft skin, love-able The other one put an arm around him The neighbor moved so comfortable and shameless, so easily vulnerable towards the other

I got sad while masturbating The scene reminded me of how I was with my ex-boyfriend The intimacy The ease The self-evidence of being together I haven’t been with someone for ten years now I felt an intruder, as if I fouled their togetherness I didn’t stop

The neighbor lay down next to him I saw them caressing each other They were having a conversation in warm candle-light with their warm, naked bodies entangled I stood alone in a dark, cold kitchen jerking quietly, afraid my roommate would walk in

I imagined it could be a painful conversation, sharing difficulties in their relationship Maybe they were breaking up

I wanted to be one of them I vaguely remember the loving touch of the other Soften in his arms Listen to his voice Indulge in our smell Ignore the sleep I could be one of them

I came lonely on the kitchen floor

[lostandfoundinberlin]

Commitment

I put myself down at the canal with a late afternoon coffee to take away the headache I've been carrying this day. It was a special occasion, I was about to dedicate my life to me. I walked around in excistential crisis and a feeling of loss for a long time. But in these last days it became clear to me where my direction lies. To dedicate my life to me, means to create. To me being an artist means being alive.

I have been an artist for a while, but lost my joy and inner connection, that I felt my God turned out to not exist and I could not commit anymore. With the knowledge about the pain and the fears, without a fast belief, I was about to consciously embark on my own path.

During this writing two bees, seemingly in battle, got to my last bit of coffee and both fell in. It took me a second to find something to get them out and one was already not moving anymore. The one still moving I shaked off, focusing on getting the other one out. It was too late. It just layed there, still.

The last sentence I wrote down, was to from now on remember myself that I should create because it's important to me and for that reason alone it's my heart and direction. And at that moment the bee who layed there still and dead, suddenly started breathing again. The little body raised from the death. I helped it getting clean and ready to be on it's way again.

The bee which I did not give too much attention, convinced it would survive, never moved from the place it landed. Covered with sand, the little body got hard and the bee died.

[lostandfoundinberlin]

I want to start

I feel this urge to be creative but I don't seem to find the medium. Or rather, let the medium find me. I have the urge to put out. Out into the universe. Out to the people. Or is it looking for confirmation that can only be achieved through social platforms? Because the urge doesn't seem to have clear content. I imagine myself in front of an audience but without any lines. The vision gets blurry the more I focus on what I'm saying. I just seem to mumble a bit. First I was quite calm, trusting that I will get creative again, but I understand at the same time that I need to get through the uncomfortable to get there. So how do I walk off the path? How do get on that stage? How can I be an artist, creating for the sake of the act, not for the sake of validation? How do I reach a form that's true to me while being considered of a period where I'm mostly digitally connected to art? I want to start. How do I start? 'You just do', so "easily" said. I guess this is me starting.

[lostandfoundinberlin]

For Spilios

I cannot be in the garden of Eden, nor do I have interest for it Perfection frightens the Gods, for the perfect one doesn’t need them I want to honor my incapacity There is no light without the darkness No life without death, health without disease, heaven without hell If if want to give birth to a godlike child I need to be the father and the mother For hell is heaven in being hell And heaven is hell in being heaven Your freedom is my prison For it restricts in ways of being together

[lostandfoundinberlin]

9 o'clock

9 o'clock is a fist in my face Not even awake for two minutes The time strikes me with incredible force

9 o'clock is a knee in my stomach It throws me back on my back I don't understand why I feel this remorse

9 o'clock is a knife in my heart Everything feels already lost I wish that I could change the course

I wish I knew how I can have fun

[lostandfoundinberlin]

A Thin Wall

I feel stuck Wind hit me in the face and my world got small I don't know how to write anymore without criticizing All day I hear my roommate through the thin wall I don't know where to turn I want to create I want to feel pretty I want to be loved

I feel stuck My headphones plugged in cause I don't want to hear it all I don't know how to live anymore without criticizing All day I hear my roommate through the thin wall

I don't know what to burn I want to create I want to feel pretty I want to be loved

I'm happy my roommate didn't hear me fall