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... or more "oh no, not again"?

The crocuses are legally protected as in any event, as long as it's not heavy snows ... But the snow, I would not really even needed now! :-(

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forgive me for I have sinned





I do not myself believe, but I've already bought a jacket. and then also in haundem. but we see this as a good sign for my Spycher: I am already able to deal with me so trivial!

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the theater group is a bit like a club . having it all seems to be all good, but right now it only rarely want to go deeper. I see intimate hugs. take part in personal interviews. yes, you can say that it was not bad for a long time. but I'm still not warm. and below the surface, the distance as great as ever. and my little - how shall I say- area is threatened. of alpha and alpha tierchen thoughts. the feeling that there is something better is what I can not offer. It is the strange aftertaste, although it was thought to consume a beloved food.

I see now ambivalent impressions from Zurich. Opera House: costume sale. before and after eating. dawdle and wander a bit much. being told back in lucerne then 40cm from the box office that it only has 4 seats - a brief view of the herd: we are sixth pitch. then to look at a. living creatures "Burn After Reading" and well-being. childish games. and back home.

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Mampf




Somehow I envy people who fast out of mourning. Or who "goes the appetite." He does that to me even once, but more than 3 days I've also head to the largest storm failed. Because I love eating and cooking. And I could just squeeze a ton of hearty food in me. Satiety is nothing. (What is this? Can you eat it?)
The worst thing is that I like most things with potatoes and corn. Just last Mansa said that corn makes cellulite and I had a little tear for hundredths of seconds in the eye at the thought of how many doses I devour corn per week. But then I thought, Weisch what? If I am not even eat what I want, what I have left? Clearly exist for me, vegan phases and weeks where I can find raw food suddenly great. And there are moments where the Bikinifigut not only screams but slaps me permanently. But I can not help ! I will do my whole damn life to destroy potato gratin and green salad with corn and fat French salad dressing, come what may!

So! Now you know hers!

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Sometimes, but sometimes ...

act ... people in the worst possible ways. And if you still behave exactly this (and I mean * exactly *) has predicted, then that's pretty bad.
Do you know that? One expects something bad and it arrives. Exactly how it prophesied. And still it hurts and you're disappointed. Is this hope? I do not know.

I only know that there are people out there that are quite stupid. And there are people who are very manipulative. And others know exactly how they do with their words, the greatest damage. Some of them would not even stupid, they just think to not know what their words mean. And they do not realize that different people have different standards. And then there's the sort of people who own mistakes and weaknesses in other miss or they can see absolutely do not (God forbid, I was already on them). Sometimes some people like everything suddenly. Sometimes they just pick out certain things. Sometimes they are just shit and there is no excuse and no ifs and no buts.

Yesterday I cut into my soul. Very very deep. I wanted to get away from me . And then I was taken by the hand and away from you brought. I think I got sick for the first time flesh torn from me instead herumzubohren always healthy.
And I've felt brutal pain. I thought I melted into that feeling.
suddenly closed the wound and there was no strange jagged scar, but a surgical cut that has already been sewn up almost lovingly is.

And I thought, this scar can be shown. Although it is a scar, but I find it quite nice for a scar. And because it was a beautiful scar, I opened the blog again.
Because right now I think I will cut further, wherever weeds grow wherever sits a cancer in my flesh, I will cut it away. And at the root tear and cry I will-but only for a moment.






And now people who know me and read along here and never show reactions: weak, very weak.

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On my so-called friends

After I in high school with so many great people was allowed to make acquaintance, I have laughed at my Grandmother just whenever she repeated her mantra: True friends are not the only thing left to get people with a little luck, is his family. Because friends can let you down, they may be drawn from the responsibility.
I saw myself as living proof of the falsity of their testimony, for I never forget people. I am constantly reached out to people when I saw them badly. Ahbe I always asked and I was there when you needed me. I would never miss my love for people to imagine something for her birthday. To me it is fun for others to be there. And I fight for people are important to me, no matter what I do to be or who should I ask myself. Yes, I love to make others happy, give them nice things and my time to take care of them.

came earlier this year I returned and I expected the cold by some people. We all know why, so far so good. They set in, large-scale than expected, but I accepted it. I still tried to be nice and friendly, I was careful not to fall into old patterns and I impose none.
It all seemed to be OK until I noticed that I am alone in my class. Until I noticed that the empty seats to my right and left remained, no matter where I sat. This was preceded by a week so I tried to sit next to me ostentatiously others. I harvested dirty looks, it even happened that some people changed the place. After a time, and after much more aggressive on my part Platzsucherei infantille heard on this game and I was back here and there a Gespändli next to me. But still I ate alone, still I was forgotten in everyday walk to the train station / at Migros. And always the one who had to ask ichwar. Because no one had need to ask for my presence. In my head it had to be started to get dark before the summer, but these rejections, it could quickly gloomy, it was about 19.30 clock. Then

was our graduation trip to Berlin, I was the opposite-added set-not just positive, as we had planned everything so complicated ver / that there really was no longer beautiful. But I've been through good, I've taken pains not to grumble and to be nice. Just once, I burst into my bitter bitter tears. I was homecoming came, tired and sensitive. Your drunk girls waiting in our room it smelled so bad of alcohol that I came up as I entered. It is not already collected, of course, was one of you stumbled over some bottles on the ground towards me and pushed me a bottle in his mouth. Again, it seemed high and I would furiously and fought me my Way to the bed free and I lay down. Of course I was there the spoilsport. Of course. All the pain of cuts, which I do not see, came up to me. I had it so hard to be good is a close association I have endured, I was calm about the whole week. But then I collapsed again. I do not know what I did in the holidays. I was so tired and sluggish, crumble my bones seemed to want, when I tried to breathe deeply. And I looked at the clock it was 21.15.
The thick black tar began to flow through my guts, I saw all all attempts failed to be there somewhere. At this time there were about two people who asked me freely, whether I do something with them would. I was excited and said to whenever I had time and sturdy enough. My thoughts were darker from night to night, I cried myself to sleep, ate too much or nothing. I tried to send my signals, I whispered for help. But I began to feel ashamed of myself, I saw the trouble I was preparing my fellow man so that I asked for their time. I looked into her eyes when I asked if they wanted to do something or just get together should have lunch and I saw little, for excuses and ways out searching eyes. Then they shrugged and said it wüsse not, but rather not, because the little eyes very often very successful reasons found out why the answer was no. At this time began my Kries, I came home, numb with fear, for I knew that every night could happen again. A sad song, a shady corner of my room, one bite and the taste in my mouth, all I could bring down everything could drive me to the bathroom. On the ground, rocking her back udn screamed and bit and I cried in my own flesh. I could not concentrate more and nothing brought me back to reality, not even then, if such tests as queuing or if I had to do something else important. From then on I tried not going home, not to return to the silence of our white walls, I gave my best to break the circle. But where should I ever go? No one invited me spontaneously after school and I myself was tired of asking.

I started noticing that I was viewed at an angle. Yes, I can be very mean if I feel bad. And believe me, I was sorry. But what counted as time in which I tried, trembling like a newborn doe me your warm hug to planks? Do you remember how you guys are gone? And I was looking round for a companion, to whom I could hug me, but nobody wanted to leave me. Then, of course, I was angry and evil. I started to bite on. But now there were bright moments in which tried to be nice and courteous and was helped and made, and even laughed - just for you. But that did not count. For you are all one better and have something more important to do.
I tried my shabby facade to maintain, continue. But behind I started the pounding in my head to enjoy more and more, if this muffled against walls, sofas and floors struck.

At the time around my birthday, I began to understand that I committed against no one feels that no one thinks he would owe me something. I realized that nobody was to be as good friends with me that he would have needed to spend time with me to be there, to be there. I was the Alki because I wanted to have on my eighteenth (!) something fun, I was cocky, because I wish we could be left out, as we always were. I must have been common, because I resented you, as you have been watching me from afar all, as I tried to have some joy and failed.
And from then on I became a psychopath, for Sozipathen if you will.

Yes, I'm probably your fault, because after my Clock on my birthday so suddenly capsized from 22:45 to 23:55, I found out everything. I wanted to wallow in my pain me, I wanted hats every anchor that kept me in this life. And they took me sick. The blasphemous land flourished. They are always in a bad mood! Oh, if only that were ..
I was lonely and isolated. And the excuses for non invitations were really uncreative. Oh, we forgot, oh well you have it not only heard, oh we will not get you thinking eh, oh, we have agreed on Facebook and you've got none.

But where were you after 21 damn clock? Who of you saw me in the eye and asked about my feelings? Those who took time for my little battered soul? Who called on you to do without something? If any of you could share some me? Who was nice to be asked without it? You know maybe I have not even needed help, no really. Dennw he can always help me, but I know for themselves what kind of a burden. But I would have needed someone who is there. Someone who first reported, just like that, just because I deserved it. Just like that. But nobody did.

And you make me so very long to keep the pieces in the hands that once formed bridges between us. And I was so desperate that I do with all the love I had in me pushed me and pushed and pushed. Until my poor body was completely blended and I ponds around me filled with pale red blood.
And now I know nciht know what I should not have in me. My head seems to hold nothing more impressive, as loneliness, fear and pain. Therefore, I can not run after you. I have no strength to be the good person anymore. I'm so far down driven, that I no longer recognize the shore. And the next section will therefore be final for you. I want to get away from our past, which seems like eien exaggerated utopia and I want to get away from you, for you to heal just shards in my hands to prevent the wounds it.

And I will not hear what I had everywhere for help! Of course, all of you panic you had when I send quite desperate to 11:55 began warning signs, of course, did you panic that my blood could stick to you. But given; where you were before? Did I help only earned if I have already put the knife in my veins? If I want a half-hearted "suicide attempt" to start, only to scream a little too loud for help? And put all in a panic? And hurt? And threaten everything and everyone. I'm sorry, but I actually think something stupid. And to be honest, there are just certain people that I feel obliged why I'm still here. Do you remember how traumatic it was when Daryl killed himself? I may well be harsh, but do you think I wanted to do to you this pain? I myself am suffering today from the fact that she went from us, I still see her deathly pale mouth and the blue Patches around her neck.

But now it has become colder under my ribs, and if only I had the courage, I would yell at you and I would say here that if I were to die tomorrow, I hope that you feel guilty and I hope that it hurts you as hard as you have hurt me. And when I'm gone, will the same be stabbed for you, as they were for me when no one was there for me.

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A "Thank You"

I want to thank you readers for the many lieen comments in recent months. Unfortunately, I rarely had time to muse and nerve respond to me very much trotzdemhat affected. Especially a big thank you to the many anonymous are reflected in my stories: You confirmed my reason to run this blog. Thanks also to loyal readers who have become friends, just because the friendships dissolve in my real world right now. Have a nice Sunday!

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prozac nation. depression Iceland. suicide wonderland.

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Ramaeu and "Castor et Pollux"

Jean Philippe Ramaeu, only a few known, played there in our little houses, even in France was only discovered by Debussy again. For a long time he was regarded as a composer of the Ancien Régime, which would not appreciate the revolutionary France. The entirely wrong. His Music enchanted us today, and the wealth of his composition would have been enough for a second night at the opera. Ramaeu revised his first opera "Castor et Pollux" Years later, this release was taken to Vienna for the performance. Thanks to

As first-time performance at the Theater an der Wien, particularly the first-class musical performance of the orchestra "Les Talens lyriques" with Christophe Rousset. Rousset, who feels the old music and especially the composers of his country required, and can demonstrate first class. His orchestra is not to be compared with the symphonic power of later times, but which offers good performance and implementation of old compositions. The small, intimate part in the Theater an der Wien was the "Les Talens lyriques" very accommodating.
The second driving force in this production was the excellent vocal performance of Arnold Schoenberg Choir. Many pieces are composed for chorus and an important element of French Baroque opera. The choir sang and played with enthusiasm, and because there was not ballet, was the great performance of "Arnold Schoenberg Choir, the optical surface for this opera.
on ballet deposits were waived for "Castor et Pollux" in its entirety, the ballet music was as pantomime flashback presented purely in concert. This idea was timely and consistent. The ballet music to Castor et Pollux would alone can fill an evening.

on the production of Mariame Clement is absolutely nothing wrong and we can only hope soon to see a performance of it. The stage and equipment by Julia Hansen was a good feeling for the complex action of Greek tragedy, and Ms. Hansen showed their skills even at Ramaeu "Platée.
sang The four major roles, Christine Kark as Telaire, Anne Sophie von Otter as Phébé, Maxim Mironov as Castor, tenor, and Dietrich Henschel as Pollux, baritone. Furthermore
Nicolas tests than Jupiter, bass, Pavel Kudinov as Grand Pretre, Enea Scala as Mercure and Sophie Marilley as Cleon.
Some of the soloists were struggling with their performances and that was audible to the audience. The language was not always perceived as beautiful and powerful.
But I would not be too severe, that few of the soloists had to do with the French opera so far and would like to conclude called on the magnificent Pierre-Montan Berton "Le Breton" point.
-known and famous tenor of his time, and head of the Paris Opera in the 1770igern, directed 1780 "Castor et Pollux, and died in May 1780 a few days after the premiere of exhaustion, as some theatrical voices. If not true, but good for posterity told, and thought as a model for future generations to approach Ramaeu with more reverence.

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b as well






last saturday. It is already dark. theater as usual. But then strange. I am going home. showers showers showers. For your own enjoyment put something nice. go back and do theater people, film look with the others. but then sit on the train to stay. First to Lucerne. then bern. then buy village. and in an ultra-fucked up the restaurant to listen to favorite bassist. then will be discussed and bio crazy dancers. then realize that (n) the piano hardly homecoming brings. now what? wander through the capital. . Freeze stomach ache again have this strange, where I could not tell doctors where track. bend pant, are faint from pain. musicians to be musicians with. . Lie drink tea. have to feel good. not just the belly. little laugh. in the freezing cold clouds of burnt herbs follow. Explore a cat. . Laugh back into the warm office. chocolate feed. make ready for bed. all asleep. be very sensitive. 4 clock says my wrist. 8am to awaken says the head. sluggish after rushing back and forth on the train. landscapes through sun-drenched world. with the tongue, the pulp orange juice from the filter and to chew. tired eyes tired. a sad farewell, because a short. be home. criticism of me, oh. howl at the lunch. be almost-honest. fast-baring be. desperately groping for clothing. sleep and sleep, so both. once wildly beating me, then dreaming. half past four. and appeal to the ever-popular where you live ask. all rushing. dorfttheater. and come to feel embarrassed. Watch and find good, even without glasses. eat cake sweet, sweet words. with the poor mother in poor and have no memory because, when we exchanged roles. I was always the lady and the lord. Now it hooks up with me. oh grief grief. simultaneously connect to the door with him, which is like black leather. punch drink. all feel that way. the glasses are together there, rattling plastic to plastic. one talks seriously over the shopping and cleaning. for I did not manage to make him forget the time. on to the Access point but no you have to pay. and the black motorcycle, it's too cold. he will not be driven. wishes to my father. and he will. and then we are back where we were 24 hours ago. anticipation. and rushed from a to b. darkness enveloped in a exceptionally warm. and it smells like pepper and adventurous when we fall back into the fever. be

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fear is a strange word


fear to leave. afraid to lose my last non-compulsory interpersonal contact. fear of not being good enough. anxious to finally be down by. afraid of the so-called forward. fear not the words to . See afraid to be eccentric. fear not to find the damn green tree. I am afraid that too much. nothing to be afraid.

fear that it is too late to turn back.

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Japanese lacquers of Marie Antoinette

Marie Antoinette had a look at collection of Japanese lacquers. A passion she shared with her mother Maria Theresa. Between the two ladies were exchanged gifts and much is found in the paint room of Schönbrunn Palace or remained in the collection of the Queen of France.
The equipment of the famous black paint rooms in Schönbrunn shows exquisite pieces in the manner and form similar to the pieces collected in the Marie Antoinette at Versailles. The figure of
Vieux Laque Room how wonderful shows the wallcovering is achieved with the Japanese lacquers. Unfortunately on the image of the Schönbrunn Palace, not shown, the small interior.