zeit des scheintods

 
Gefühlslos.
Teilnahmslos.
Antriebslos.
Motivationslos.
Regungslos.
Empfindungslos.

Leer.

Leere.


Was für mich immer der grösste Albtraum gewesen ist, meine grösste Furcht, nämlich dieser Zustand fehlender Anteilnahme und Empfindung, ist eingetreten.

Und ich geniesse es.

Denn, zum ersten Mal seit mehr als zwei Jahren, treibt mich nicht mehr die Verarbeitung der Traumata an. Und so geniesse ich dies, auch wenn mich nun rein gar nichts mehr antreibt. Wenigstens jagd nicht mehr ein Gedanke den Nächsten. Und endlich habe ich nicht mehr dieses Gefühl, ständig agieren zu müssen um nicht zu sterben. Denn nun...

Nun bin ich gestorben.

Doch nicht als Ergebnis von Malträtierung meiner Seele meinerseits, was zum grossen Dilemma der Eigen-Vergebung bringen würde. Nein... Ich gehe davon aus, dass dieser vorläufige Tod Teil der Verarbeitung der Ereignisse ist, im Sinne von dessen Auflösung. Die Verarbeitung der Traumata löst sich nun auf, und wie jede Krankheit fördert sie Rekonvaleszenz. Ich hoffe dies ist die grosse Erschöpfung am Ende der Krankheit. So Gott will.

Und so flimmern vor mir Bilder aus der Welt, die mich normalerweise Bewegen würden. Nun empfinde ich, wenn überhaupt, winzige Gemütsregungen. Das Leben draussen berührt mich fast nicht. Und das innen um so weniger. Doch dieser Zustand versetzt mich nicht in Panik, wie es sonst mein Leben lang getan hätte. Ich stelle ihn schon fast mit Genugtuung fest. Denn, im Gegensatz zu früher, weiss ich dass es zumindest diesmal nicht nötig sein wird dagegen anzukämpfen, mich diesem Zustand um jeden Preis entziehen zu wollen. Ich weiss genau, ich fühle, wie er von selbst gehen wird. Wie er Platz für Erfreulicheres lassen wird. Platz für mein Leben.


Mein Leben.
Ein Leben in Fülle.
Zu seiner Zeit.
So Gott will.
 

fall close to me

 
Stay Close  ==  Basement Jaxx
Featuring Lisa Kekaula

Pull back the chairs, let's lie down low, lie down low
Let your fingers curl through mine, through mine
Those sirens in the night, in the night, in the night
Let's light the zombies outside, outside, outside

Oh what, oh what?
Stay close to me, stay close to me, don't go nowhere
Let's lie down low, let's be forgotten, stay, stay, yeah, stay
Move close to me, let your eyelids find each other

Stay close to me, let me soothe you, stay
We got all the time, unwind, let your blood find your veins
Let your fingers kill, curl, curl
Find that something else that they cannot reach

Stay close to me, stay close to me, don't go nowhere
Just for tonight, stay close to me, oh
Stay close to me, don't go nowhere


 

dritto fino al mattino

 
L'Isola Che Non C'è  ==  Edoardo Bennato

Seconda stella a destra,
questo è il cammino
e poi dritto fino al mattino
poi la strada la trovi da te:
porta all'isola che non c'è.

Forse questo ti sembrerà strano
ma la ragione
ti ha un po' preso la mano
ed ora sei quasi convinto che
non pu+ esistere un'isola che non c'è.

E a pensarci, che pazzia
è una favola, è solo fantasia
e chi è saggio, chi è maturo lo sa:
non può esistere nella realtà!
Son d'accordo con voi
non esiste una terra
dove non ci son santi né eroi
e se non ci son ladri
se non c'è mai la guerra
forse è proprio l'Isola
che non c'è...che non c'è...

E non è un'invezione
e neanche un gioco di parole
se ci credi ti basta perché
poi la strada la trovi da te...
Son d'accordo con voi
niente ladri e gendarmi
ma che razza di isola è?!
Niente odio e violenza,
né soldati né armi
forse è proprio l'Isola
che non c'è...che non c'è...

Seconda stella a destra
questo è il cammino
e poi dritto fino al mattino
non ti puoi sbagliare perché
quella è l'Isola che non c'è!
E ti prendono in giro
se continui a cercarla
ma non darti per vinto perché
chi ci ha già rinunciato
e ti ride alle spalle
forse è ancora più pazzo di te!


 
 

more or less synched up

 
Wie viele Male, in den letzten Jahren? Wie viele Male hatte ich Menschen vor mir und sah, wie sich ihre Lippen bewegten? Ich sah, wie sie zu mir sprachen, ich hörte die Laute die sie von sich gaben und ich verstand diese Laute auch. Doch, wie viele Male hatte ich das Gefühl, diese Laute würden gar nicht aus diesen Menschen kommen? Wie oft habe ich gedacht "Die Hülle die vor mir steht ist nicht die, die gerade zu mir spricht"? "Diese Laute, diese Gedanken, diese Welten, stammen aus einer anderen Hülle. Die durch diese Hülle, die hier vor mir steht, spricht. Wie in einem schlecht synchronisierten Film...

Call me seek, if you'd like.
If it helps you.

Aber wenn du das durchgemacht hättest, was ich am durchmachen bin, würdest du vielleicht etwas behutsamer mit deinem Urteil umgehen. Und vielleicht könntest du dann auch eher etwas von deiner eigenen Stimme hören, von ihrer Poesie.

And you may.
Realize how.
Paradise is where you.
Arrived now.
Only much much.
Better.


Language Is A Virus  ==  Laurie Anderson

Paradise
Is exactly like
Where you are right now
Only much much
Better.

I saw this guy on the train
And he seemed to gave gotten stuck
In one of those abstract trances.
And he was going: "Ugh...Ugh...Ugh..."

And Fred said:
"I think he's in some kind of pain.
I think it's a pain cry."
And I said: "Pain cry?
Then language is a virus."

Language! It's a virus!
Language! It's a virus!

Well I was talking to a friend
And I was saying:
I wanted you.
And I was looking for you.
But I couldn't find you. I couldn't find you.
And he said: Hey!
Are you talking to me?
Or are you just practicing
For one of those performances of yours?
Huh?

Language! It's a virus!
Language! It's a virus!

He said: I had to write that letter to your
mother.
And I had to tell the judge that it was you.
And I had to sell the car and go to Florida.
Because that's just my way of saying
(It's a charm.)
That I love you. And I
(It's a job.)
Had to call you at the crack of dawn
(Why?)
And list the times that I've been wrong.
Cause that's just my way of saying
That I'm sorry.
(It's a job.)

Language! It's a virus!
Language! It's a virus!

Paradise
Is exactly like
Where you are right now
Only much much
(It's a shipwreck,)
Better.
(It's a job.)

You know? I don't believe there's such
a thing as TV. I mean -
They just keep showing you
The same pictures over and over.
And when they talk they just make sounds
That more or less synch up
With their lips.
That's what I think!

Language! It's a virus!
Language! It's a virus!
Language! It's a virus!

Well I dreamed there was an island
That rose up from the sea.
And everybody on the island
Was somebody from TV.
And there was a beautiful view
But nobody could see.
Cause everybody on the island
Was saying: Look at me! Look at me!
Look at me! Look at me!

Because they all lived on an island
That rose up from the sea.
And everybody on the island
Was somebody from TV.
And there was a beautiful view
But nobody could see.
Cause everybody on the island
Was saying: Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!
Look at me! Look at me! Why?

Paradise is exactly like
Where you are right now
Only much much better.