Licht im Schatten

Es gibt Tage, an denen sich ein Leben für immer verändert. Tage an denen etwas ausschlaggebendes geschieht, Dinge wie einen Schulabschluss machen, die eigene Hochzeit oder die Geburt des ersten Kindes. Kleine Meilensteine in der Laufbahn eines jeden Menschen. Momente, von denen man Fotos in Alben klebt und über die man immer wieder spricht. 

Es gibt für manche Menschen aber auch den Tag, an dem eine Person in einem weißen Kittel vor dir sitzt und mit den Lippen Wörtern formt, die in Zeitlupe den Rest deines Lebens beschreiben. Du siehst wie sich die Lippen deines Gegenübers bewegen, du hörst Geräusche und siehst in verständnisvolle Augen, die mit einem gewissen Mitleid versuchen dir zu erklären, warum du doppelt siehst. Warum deine Arme einschlafen, warum deine Knie nachgeben, warum du hier im Krankenhaus liegst und aussiehst wie ein Sieb wegen der unzähligen Untersuchungen die mit dir gemacht wurden. 

Du starrst auf den weißen Kittel. Dein Arzt heißt “Guerreiro”, das heißt Krieger. Du lächelst. Die Wörter “autoimmun”, “degenerativ”, “normales Leben”, schwirren wie betrunkene Vögel durchs Zimmer. Du denkst an einen Schulfreund, der dieselbe Krankheit hatte und schon lange tot ist. Du denkst an die Kinder, die du bekommen wolltest und stellst dir deinen Mann vor, wie er alleine vor einem Grabstein steht. Normales Leben, sagt der Mann im weißen Kittel. Und spricht von Medizin. Von Spritzen und Therapien. Er sagt, dass ich wahrscheinlich nicht im Rollstuhl landen werde. Wahrscheinlich werde ich laufen können. Ich kann alt werden, aber eben nicht so alt wie meine Freunde. Ich kann Kinder bekommen, aber vielleicht werden auch sie diese Krankheit erben. Der Mann im weißen Kittel ist freundlich und verständnisvoll. Man weiß es noch nicht so genau, was es so auf sich hat mit dieser Krankheit. Es gibt viele Theorien.  

Seit meiner Begegnung mit dem netten Mann im weißen Kittel, hängt ein großer schwarzer Name über meinem Kopf. Alles was ich tue oder denke, steht im Schatten meiner Krankheit. Dieser Schatten begleitet mich und tränkt alles was ich erlebe in eine andere Farbe. In meinem Leben werde ich nun viel Licht brauchen, um gegen diesen großen Schatten anzukämpfen. Seit einigen Jahren wohne ich in einem Land, in dem es an Licht und Sonne nie fehlt. Zufall? Schicksal? Ich ernenne das Licht zu meinem ständigen Begleiter. Ich werde hier ein normales Leben führen, mit einer degenerativen Autoimmunerkrankung.

Spongestones

Some people are stones,

others are sponges.

Stones do not get wet,

but sponges dry out.

The best would be a sponge inside

and a stone outside

or the opposite?

The thing is:

 stay out of the rain.

Still Standing

Your youth just walked out the door

and took your dreams with it.

Your health broke up with you last week. 

So here you stand, wrinkling in pain.

Wondering what to do.

Wondering where to go.

Wandering.

Magic

White Lilies and Roses imbue the air 

with a magic smell of freedom

while the cello and violins play the song of love and joy.

Guests hold their hands with sparkling wet eyes 

feeling a slight pressure on their chest

touched by a moment where time stands still 

and things are just good 

and good they will be.

This enchanting night enlightened by white candles 

and surrounded by little white flowers 

being caressed by the fresh summer breeze 

waiting for the bride to come and shine brighter than the light.

The officiators speaking words of love and respect with a firm voice 

reminding us all of things that really matter.

And love matters 

and family 

and faith

and hope spreads among us like a million butterflies

and then I see it: the train of her wedding dress

and people stand up and the magic begins.

Like from another world

she steps down the aisle

smiling the purest smile of all

sparkling like a diamond

looking at her  beloved man.

This magic bride walks

as if there were clouds underneath her

as if she were in heaven

and God were right there

touching her face

and wishing her the best

because she deserves it.

White Lilies and Roses imbue the air 

with a magic smell of freedom

while the cello and violins play the song of love and joy

and my tears sparkle in the candle light

and things are just good 

and good they will be.

Cliché

It's a stupid cliché

until it becomes your real life.

Suddenly things matter

and living each day as if it was your last one

starts making sense

because each day

could actually be your last one.

But you know what? 

Everyone's day could be the last one!

So what?

After Rain

by Edward Thomas (1878 – 1917)

The rain of a night and a day and a night
Stops at the light
Of this pale choked day. The peering sun
Sees what has been done.
The road under the trees has a border new
of purple hue
Inside the border of bright thin grass:
For all that has
Been left by November of leaves is torn
From hazel and thorn
And the greater trees. Throughout the copse
No dead leaf drops
On grey grass, green moss, burnt-orange fern,
At the wind's return:
The leaflets out of the ash-tree shed
Are thinly spread
In the road, like little black fish, inlaid,
As if they played.
What hangs from the myriad branches down there
So hard and bare
Is twelve yellow apples lovely to see
On one crab-tree.
And on each twig of every tree in the dell
Uncountable
Crystals both dark and bright of the the rain
That begins again.

Wo

Wo viel Licht ist, 

ist starker Schatten.

Shapes

No matter what shape I become

you only see the same old triangle.

I might have lost my edges and become a circle.

I might have grown a new edge and become a rectangle.

But no matter what I do

you see a fucking triangle.

Rain

May this never ending torrential rain

wash away my sorrows

and wipe my memory of those beloved ones

who have betrayed me again and again

and still smile at me pretending they care.

May this never 

ending 

torrential 

rain

never 

ever 

end.

Favourite Colour

I wish 

there was

a colour 

darker than black

it would be my favourite one. 

The Same

The same arms that hug you

will strangle you.

The same hands that hold you

will slap you.

The same lips that kiss you

will yell at you.

The same words that comfort you

will break you in pieces. 

In the end

there will be nothing left

but broken dreams

and the certainty

that life is a nightmare

with short moments of happiness.

Just face it

and fall asleep again.

Keep your enemies in your pocket.

If you stand tall

With your back

To the door

Then it's

Your own fault

When you get knocked

To the floor

You may have

Fooled me once

But I've got

A pretty damn

Good memory

It's a small world

What a type cliché

But it's a small world

How many times can I say

That everything

You do will end up

Coming right back

Around again

And if you don't know

That by now

Then I feel quite

Sorry for you

I'm sorry for you

Yeah

The people

That you keep around

Well

You learn from them

And they learn from you

So keep

Your friends close

And your enemies

In your pocket

Yeah

Keep your friends close

And your enemies

In your pocket

When you just

Might start

To melt them down

I come around

So keep

Your friends close

And your enemies

In your pocket

It's a long haul

To the front of the line

And you get there

In your own sweet time

But there's

Always somebody

Who decides

To cut right

In front of you

A wide eye

Looking for

A ticket to ride

It's a long night

I hope you make it

Out alive

You can't spend

Your whole life

Worrying about

What's behind you

And if you don't know

That by now

Then I feel quite

Sorry for you

I'm sorry for you

Yeah

The people

That you keep around

Well

You learn from them

And they learn from you

So keep

Your friends close

And your enemies

In your pocket

Yeah

Keep your friends close

And your enemies

In your pocket

When you just

Might start

To melt them down

I come around

So keep

Your friends close

And your enemies

In your pocket

And it's

A lively colour

Not black and white

But some people think

They're the ones

Who got it right

In a room so full

Well

You have to be

A little more flexible

And if you don't know

That by now

Then I feel quite

Sorry for you

I'm sorry for you

Yeah

The people

That you keep around

Well

You learn from them

And they learn from you

So keep

Your friends close

And your enemies

In your pocket

Yeah

Keep your friends close

And your enemies

In your pocket

When you

Just might start

To melt them down

I come around

So keep

Your friends close

And your enemies

In your pocket

Unfair

Tomorrow is far away,

yesterday even more.

Today is running by

and you never run fast enough to catch up. 

It's a battle you start knowing you're gonna lose it.

So what is it all about? 

Perhaps collecting nice moments.

Perhaps forgetting the bad ones.

Perhaps the whole package of broken dreams 

and unexpected blessings.

Perhaps it's all about getting distracted

while losing this unfair fight.

Weird

Why do people believe that

taking a shower of reality 

is better than bathing in illusion?

Not Worth

Poor

little creature.

I can't even hate you.

In our veins runs the same blood.

Bloody fact: we're related-

and still, I appreciate the silence who lives between us.

The loudest silence I've ever heard.

Saving me the lies

and the injustice.

Saving me the disappointments

and the anger.

Saving me the hope for one day to have someone decent around.

Bitter? I'm not bitter.

I just opened my eyes and didn't like what I saw.

Poor

little creature.

You're not worth my hatred.

Wonderwall

Today is gonna be the day

That they're gonna throw it back to you

By now you should've somehow

Realized what you gotta do

I don't believe that anybody

Feels the way I do, about you now

Back beat, the word was on the street

That the fire in your heart is out

I'm sure you've heard it all before

But you never really had a doubt

I don't believe that anybody

Feels the way I do about you now

And all the roads we have to walk are winding

And all the lights that lead us there are blinding

There are many things that I

Would like to say to you but I don't know how

Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me

And after all, you're my wonderwall

Today was gonna be the day

But they'll never throw it back to you

By now you should've somehow

Realized what you're not to do

I don't believe that anybody

Feels the way I do, about you now

And all the roads that lead you there are winding

And all the lights that light the way are blinding

There are many things that I

Would like to say to you but I don't know how

[Repeat x2]

I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me

And after all, you're my wonderwall

Barbed Wire

Our relation?

Strong it is

like steel.

We're connected forever.

Pity it's a painful barbed wire

holding me tight

cutting my flesh

never letting me go.

Holding me, so I won't fall

while strangling me

and watching me die slowly.

Our relation?
Very strong it is, indeed.
We're connected forever.

Chase

And even if you went to the moon

it would hunt you down

and make you miserable.

And even if you spent

your whole life running from it

it would find you.

It'll chase you forever

stop caring

stop running

stop worrying

stop wondering

stop crying

stop hoping.

Stop.