Hear me roar (..to be continued)

Hear me roar,
as it fades away between the trees and the falling leaves
Hear me roar,
as the late November rain covers the old soil
See me drift
Through the cold wind announcing frost and turmoil
See me drift
Through this woodland that greatly griefs.

....

(Flying over like the soul of a lonely falcon
That cannot see through the fog under
Starving, yearning, flying high despite the thunder

The wet fur of a wolf, sprinting through the foul wood
The stench of blood and fire drawing him
Anguish, you never look back even if you could

you never feel, never see, you.. lost.

Those roots are old but cut through the bark regardless,
let the tree fall, let it crash to the ground, helpless.
but hear me roar.)

Kurfurstendamm walk

The street lights shine as I walk without purpose
it feels like I'm drowning cause I can't reach the surface
There's people around me, in masses they swim
So I pick a small street on which lights are really dim.

Delighted that I'm not lost in that crowd
Oh how well it is when the streets aren't loud.
You followed me that night, I felt you close by
Sometimes I still wonder why you always try...

I stopped that one time and you tried to talk,
Instead you looked at me once but you didn't stop.
Your ways they confuse me, so that's why I wonder
Why your shadow vanishes when I look over yonder.

The crazy never admit, so don't think me insane,
My damage comes from the heart not from the brain.

Mending

Hello you,


I know you, you are there, the support, the understanding, the comfort, the secure, my home. You are home.

I've put this off for such a long time and I kept the blog on a sidebar clicking on it from time to time trying to write.. and I'd write a few words and then delete them again. It's what keeps happening for months and I know it's bad for me. It's bad not to write because this has always been my therapy.
So many things have happened so far that it's hard to place them in one post... because each thing had some different emotion and some different role to play.

I guess I keep putting this off because more than half of this journal is about him, most of my important years in which I have learned, changed, developed my character... they all had him as an influence so I guess writing about it would be like ending the journal. You know...when you've reached your destination, you get out of your car and feel the breeze and see the beautiful view in front of you. You take the best out of the trip and then you have to leave because there are other things that require your attention, other responsibilities.
I don't know what to take out of this, I don't know if I could live without him as well as I do now, I could but it wouldn't be the same, it would be missing something. Then again we humans are smart and we can find ways to fill holes and we can replace easily. Not completely but as much as we can - "that will do", because we are good at convincing ourselves of other things, we're good at inducing other emotions if required.

I'm here, I'm 23, in Berlin, I'm responsible, I've matured a little, I'm still a lazy ass like always but I found ways to get around, I found ways to make myself do things. I've failed miserably but I've also gained experience. I figured out what I don't want to do but I have yet to be sure of what I really want to do. I am a little lost but there wasn't one time in which I didn't find a way out somehow. I'm lucky and I have the support of my family as much as my family has my support.

Did you know? I managed to mend a few wounds, I am talking to my father more, to my sister, to my brother... we are making it work somehow. My whole life I never knew I had a sister and this summer we actually got to bond. We're alike go figure, we come from the same father and we both got his intelligence and we both never really open up quite like we should. You can see the damage but you can also see that we both managed to get up and fix ourselves somehow. I like that about her and I admire her. You know she actually hugged me at one point and I could see that we both were tearing up. It couldn't have been easy for her because I know the resentment she has felt for me all these years and it's remarkable that she moved passed it and tried to let me in. I thank her for that.
I remember all those times in which I was so jealous of her, of her being so beautiful and intelligent and always having good grades and kicking ass in everything she was doing. Then she became a lawyer and she married a nice, successful judge.. who ended up to be not so nice, but I never knew the story behind everything and I never considered her pain, only mine. I knew of the constant comparison - look at her - look how she thrives - do better cause look what she managed. Yes, it was this constant repulsion because that's how we were raised somehow, never with the intention to bond and always having too big of an ego to act any different. We didn't know any better, I was too little, she was too hurt. I never thought that maybe she resented me cause I had more time with our father, I was the favorite one, I was the one which had him until I was 12 and even after he left my mother he was still present almost all the time. So yes in her eyes I was the spoiled, ungrateful one that always got everything she wanted and never appreciated anything that was done for her. Yes, I was rebellious, I didn't have good grades, I couldn't care less, I always got into some kind of trouble and I always disappointed.But I didn't know better, and I didn't have anyone to guide me. Back then I didn't see these things at all, I despised my father for what he had done to my mother and for what he had done to me and yet again I didn't know the whole story, I never considered it. Because it's always easy to speculate but you should never point fingers if you do not know all the facts and if you don't hear all the stories. Truth is relative, there is no universal truth - each and everyone of us has their own truth which doesn't mean they are lies - they are extensions of truths seen in their eyes, their perceived truth influenced by the way they think, the way they were raised the circumstances in which they were placed etc. There is an essence, yes ... but that essence gets mixed with everyone's opinion and point of view so yes, to me truth is always relative. It might be silly to think this way but look - best example I can think of: the ultimate truth? You are born and then you die. Is that it though? Is that an universal truth? What if death isn't really death and the light at the end of the tunnel is birth itself? It's a stupid speculation, I realize this BUT it's a simple opinion and yes, by reading this again I made myself laugh. To continue with the story, because as usual I drifted away to a point of no return, this summer I have learned and I have matured and I am astonished. I found out things that I had never considered, I heard stories that filled the big picture, I started to understand where my father was coming from, I understood what my sister had to go through and I learned a little more about their stories. And yes... my God how easy it is to victimize yourself and blame others. It's retarded.

So basically things are going well, I get to make a difference in the life of a child, I get to work on fixing family issues, I help my mother in a modest way and I've learned what it is to love with all your heart. Sometimes I wonder how I still manage to wake up in the morning and not despise this entire world though. Not because of the good things of course, but because of the other bad things that happen around me and I can't do anything about it. It's the simple feeling of being powerless that brings me down a little but it gets better after a while. It's important to think that if you're being a good person at least you get to influence others maybe ...just maybe. Or at least you have a clean conscience that you did your part.

I think I'm done for the day. I'll leave him for another day or another sleepless night, inspirational night. See what I mean? I keep putting it off and I don't know why I am so scared of writing about it. It might be the result that I fear. I would give it a few more days, inspiration hit me recently and I think it'll stick around for a while.