Is this the world we created?

At some places you can find the sun. You can feel how it warms up your body, how it gives energy to your heart. But it’s hard to find such a place. I’m looking for my place since months. Sometimes, I feel the sun far away. Where is the world we created?

I saw your smile, when I softly touched the tree, in which we engraved our initials. With that heart around it. It’s a small thing but every time I walk that street I have to look at that tree. One last memory for our time we spent together. Everything’s just lost. Everything has changed since I saw you the last time. Do you remember me at all? Do we know us at all?

The raindrops are crashing down like lightnings. The silence is gone since my life became that chaos. It’s hard to not look back. Everything seemed better that days. But times like these are gone, and no one every would be able to change the past.

Your love was unique, your callousness was excessive. You left a footstep in my life and you are the only one, who ever has got a part of my heart. Take care of it. And I imagine that we would met another time. How would it be? Who would you be? Where would we go? Would the sun be part of our way? And in the end I would wonder: Is this the world we created?

German version :: I wanted to publish that text at my main blog “Neon Wilderness”, but I’ve recognized, that I haven’t posted at Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind for a long time. Therefore I published it here first, and then I translated it into German. And I must admit, I find, that this version is far better.

Photograph by Ivan Zuber (flickr)

Twelve Inches Away.

I don’t know how to be with you
and I don’t know how to be without you.

You are so beautiful
across a table with sparkly things in your hair.

I want to be able not to want you so badly,
to just observe you, like standing in a museum staring for hours-

Longing to touch the texture of paint
or the coolness of a statue,

But knowing I cannot.
At night with the light of the street shining on your face.

You sleep, so I stay quiet and breathe gently.
Who are we when our lives interesext like this?

I think I know you thoughts because we feel so much the same.
I long for you to wake up and talk to me.
I muss you here, twelve inches away,

More than I could possibly miss you on the other side of the world.
So I travel with you in my dreams
to places we may never go in waking hours.

We can never own any of this.
I can’t demand your time or your dedication.

For sure I love you the most when I’m able to let it fly-
your soul, that is, which is where I love you the most.

André Schneider

Live Is A Sexually Transmitted Disease – ISBN 3-938262-17-6 – Amazon

Mirror.

The lake mirrors the trees. It’s dark, here at that place.

That lonely small lake. A place for many of my memories. Here, we, you and me, we spent so many wonderful days and nights. Here, we startet our relationship again, after that end, nobody really had wanted. Yesterday I sat there at that footbridge. The darkness walked around in a soften, silent move. I saw the sun went down. I saw the ducks swam away.

The mirror became darker and darker and everything, that’s mirrored at that lake, is something like my own memories. The memories become darker and darker. Since days it’s harder than ever to think about you. You made my live complete and you smashed all my hopes and dreams. The mirror distorted all my memories.

I sat there at that footbridge, and I waited. Waited for you. You only live metres away from that place. But I didn’t try to call you, I didn’t ring the bell. I wanted that place to be alone. Alone with my memories, with that darkness. Alone with me and the ghost of you. You were wonderful. In that mirror.

If that mirror could talk. What would it say. Wouldn’t it be nice, to hear all the stories of ourselves? Wouldn’t it be nice, if we spent some time here together. Wouldn’t it be nice, if we tried to be friends? But that mirror couldn’t talk. And down by the lake, I waited. Waited for something new.

Restless.

Time has come to change my mood. But time’s still unreliable.

You choose the pain, that crushes down at me. I’m here. In that small bureau. At that desk, the monitor in front of me. The radio plays the wrong music. And my mood mirrors the weather outside. It’s cold and it’s snowing. Winter hasn’t gone yet. Spring hasn’t got enough courage, to show its sun and its warm breeze. The weather is freaky cold and I don’t really know, what’s happening inside of me.

You are that girl, I can’t get out of my head. I thought, that everything will be alright. Will be alright, when you’ll meet me the next time. Nothing’s alright. Everything’s a mess. I don’t know, how you can do that. You have to power to make me small, to shut my eyes. I don’t want you to do that. But I’ve no possibility to change you. You won’t change. Nothing’s gonna change.

And I laugh. As it all comes crashing down. All comes down and I can’t save myself. Why can’t you just leave my life. Why can’t I just forget people I’ve known. Well, maybe, I don’t really want to erase you. That would go too far. Too far. Far too far. I don’t need you, but I don’t want to lose you. That would be horrible. As horrible as you are. You, and all your thoughts and feelings in my head and heart.

A Single. Looking For A Longplayer.

Walking through my very own, little world, always with music in my head. So today it will be a nice metaphor. I myself, 19 years old, a single, am looking for a longplayer.

When you go into a record shop, surrounded by thousands of plastic covers. The Top 40 of the single-charts. The Top 20 of the LPs. Since nearly seven years a guy named “Ikarus” is ranked first. Nothing seems to be changed in the next weeks. Ikarus has a top-ranked single. He stays cool, remains true to himself, recurs sometimes. But hey, he’s a star. He should be happy, being on the first rank. The Top 40, no …  not of the most popular, but of the longest singles.

What’s so special with Ikarus? He only sings of feelings, full of pathos and hard-tried to sing profounded words. Hasn’t there ever been someone, who wants to catch him, and bring him down from that first place? Sure, there was someone. If you’ve read the NME, you must know, that there has been such people. But he believed in his feelings and tried to give those people a place in his herat.

He will be there for … some time. Yeah. And he will sing songs, full of self-pity. Nobody can change it. But the single will be bought though. Because he isn’t the only one. Everybody knows his feelings. Yeah, he should be famous, why not. But he waits. Waits for the possibility to be part on a good LP. He loves longplayers. They are great.

On the top ranks of the LP-charts, there are samplers. Something for everyone. But he doesn’t like samplers, doesn’t like compilations. They don’t have any style, any personality. He loves the breath-taking longplayers. Which catch someone and you’ve always these songs in your head. The symbiosis of the parts. The music and the voice. Two essences, combined in something so wonderful. And he wants to be part of such a longplayer.

But he can’t. He had the possibility to be on a very good LP. For a short time. It was a great LP, wonderful, nearly sold out. After that he tried sometimes, but it seemed, that he isn’t able to make such beautiful songs again. Therefore, he waits. Maybe, there will be a comeback. Or the definitive split-up. But he doesn’t want to be on a normal, trivial LP. No. Not Ikarus

And therefore he’s on top. At the olymp of the music. Maybe a One-Hit-Wonder. Or a prodigy of the post-apocalyptic music scene. To sum up, Ikarus will always be one thing. A split personality. A happy guy, deeply sad. A funny guy, melancholic. Self-confident, doubting. Keep loving his music. And if you’re going to a record shop, look for the new LP publications. Maybe there are some news.