The Same Deep Water As You

daily post: take care.

on a bathroom stall door at university,
someone scribbled a phrase that goes like this: “some laugh, only to not have to cry.” *

asking for help is all about the fine line between hiding away and baring too much.
one has to keep up appearances, after all. and it’s never safe to open up.

so, when someone around is unwell, do you allow yourself to take care of them? or do you prefer to stay out of it? what does it take for you to listen?

i think people should start listening more. they would find that many who seem to “soldier on alone” are just going unnoticed.


* in german, it actually rhymes and flows much better.

ps: it’s a shame, really. i would have liked to write more, tonight, but finals are keeping me busy and i can only do so much in a day. i’ll post the usual splinter of fiction, later, though.


You’ll Be Another One Before All Of This Is Done

“it’s almost two-thirty now, and the crowd gets nervous. a couple of minutes to go, a couple minutes of taking notes. it’s a whole new world that we’ve diven into. and no one seems to feel comfortable, yet. at least i don’t.

‘this desk is way too small’, i catch myself thinking rather loudly inmidst a mass of fashionable, fidgety iphoners. but my statement seeps away between mashed up noises from packing done too early. half an hour ago, the back of my wooden seat groaned with my every movement, and i heard someone giggle in response to it. my seat still groans, but it can’t be heard, anymore. that makes two of us, now.

university is different from what i know. i know high school and familiarity. i used to know my seat, i used to return to that very same seat for each class. this is different. this is frightening. the auditorium holds somewhat over 600 groaning, wooden seats. and each of them is taken. i believe that – judging from the time it took us all to enter the hall and sit down in evenly filled rows – we couldn’t leave the building fast enough in case of emergency. the doors are too small and there are few of them. plus, i noticed that people tend to switch to super slowmo, when entering a crowded place. the more people, the more they slow down. and if a panic breaks out, this simple structure of seat rows would most likely turn into a non-traversable maze. no one could fold back their tables and leave fast enough without stumbling over books or panicked people, before getting violently squished through proportionally narrow concrete doorframes… you know, in case of emergency.

the overall restlessness reaches a level where that tiny professor raises his voice to a maximum in order to be understood over the mic. some are already done packing their stuff and rush out. i wonder whether they were also picturing emergency cases. i might never find out. students don’t talk that much inside lecture halls. well, actually they do. but not to me. i’m probably a loner.

you see, last week, i’ve had an interesting conversation with someone i had barely met, and he said that university marks one of the few points in life where everyone can be the person they’ve always dreamed to be. i think everyone gets a free trial. but it’s not so easy – you see – changing who you are into who you want to be. some attempt, but fail. i do. most don’t even try it in the first place. and so, all those chances at becoming a better person pass up, and most of us end up the exact same person they had always been and will always be.”

i think the beginning of change is always hard work and for results, you have to see it through. change is like going against a tide; like that strange ache when untying tight braids and running your fingers through your hair. or like returning again and again to an uncomfortably overfilled lecture hall of noisy strangers.

you know it’s unpleasant, but you go on with it, anyway. because that’s where change starts. that’s what will hopefully take you someplace better.¬†

An Atheist’s Quick Thought On God

as i’m preparing to leave for classes, i’m often listening to a list of favourite songs, most of which are really melancholic (at least that’s what others keep saying. i enjoy them. i don’t get why others don’t.) and just now, as “say when” by the fray is playing, i catch myself singing along for the millionth time, singing “maybe god can be on both sides of the gun”.

but i’ve actually thought about this line for the first time, now. and i doubt it.

god is not on both sides of the gun. i’m no expert speaking, but of how i like to think of god, he wouldn’t be standing on either side. right? i mean, he’s not absent, he must be there, somewhere, but i think he wouldn’t be held at gunpoint. and he would most certainly not shoot. he has his ways, but he doesn’t need guns for them.

i believe that when a gun separates the world into two places, and if a god exists, god is there, like a single pair of watching eyes, triggering qualms.

what do you think? am i even making sense here?


when you sing / when you sing / stars fill up my eyes / galaxies pour down my cheeks
they flood the street / galaxies

this one is inspired by “galaxies” (who knew?), a laura veirs song that i currently like a lot. in fact, i have been picturing this scene whenever i heard the lyrics, and since they’re so extraordinarily beautiful, i thought i had to at least share them with you (plus the picture). unfortunately, the eyes didn’t come out the way i had originally planned – however, the message should be clear.

again, this picture was supposed to become “galactic”, but ended up half done, because it’s 2 am on a school night, i’m a busy student and frankly, i’m done with it for today. this is all i can give you, i hope you like it (or at least the song. now, you’ve got to listen to the song).

until next time, sleep tight, everyone!

You Are A Vapour Trail

first you look so strong, then you fade away / the sun will blind my eyes / i love you anyway
thirsting for your smile / i loved you for a while / you are a vapour trail / in a deep blue sky

to be honest, i got a little hooked on trespassers william, recently. as i go on listening to more and more of their songs, i just really hate that they disbanded a while ago. their version of vapour trail is my current favourite, and it has somehow inspired me to doodle a little bit, in the first place. i started with a circa-fifteen-stroke-draft of the above hand on my notebook, and then i just went on. i wanted the fingertips to be placed on a reflective surface – much like a mirror, or metal, maybe. but as i started developing an actual hand, i got terribly lazy (and a hand on a mirror is a little clich√©, after all). painting with only the average notebook touchpad and a free image manipulation program that i’m not even able to use properly can become quite time-consuming.

so, here’s my first actual visual contribution to this blog. it’s basically a sketch with some texture, but i liked the colours in the end and thought: well here’s a tiny piece of creation, and then there’s my blog, in lack thereof. so, do you like it?