ThankYou MyLove

My Darling, thank you. I am sitting here in my appartement. In Berlin. Life is happening around me, i can hear it when i lie in bed, i can see it from my balcony. Young excited boy and girl tourists from Spain and America are walking at night on the street, they sound like little ducklings who lost their mother duck and are scared and excited at the same time. I'm not that excited any more, but still i am scared at times. ThankYou, myLove. All you scared and not so scared people out there. I love you. I moved cities. I don't hear life outside my window anymore. At night i hear the wind trying to push my windows in, at daytime there are mostly old people pushing their worn out bodies down the sidewalks. You would suspect their memories to be as generic as their hair cuts are. But they all have their stories, i believe. There's an old sailor living down the street who has seen more ports in his life than i could stick pins at on Google Maps. And tonight, through a window, i saw three older men playing guitar, banjo and the fiddle under harsh fluorescent light. All are living a story. I am sort of dying of loneliness right now. But this too will pass, like everything else does. I still love you, though. This is the new life. It's quiet. The sounds in the streets are silenced in the fine mist of a grey-clouded summer rain. Beauty can't persevere in this moist and colorless air. People´s outsides are more true to basic human nature, it reflects in their faces - swollen, scarred, weekday grey. I don't hear life anymore, i dream of it now. I dream of a hot and breathing body drawing my touch. I dream of minds being naked, giving their flesh up to a private theater of sunbursting games of fucking. Lend me a body and i will make it come. We will look back in awe on what happend the day before. We will make up stricter rules and harsher punishments for next day´s game. This love will hurt like ice cream. I promise.