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the end has no end

i believe in forever, because when things end, they end forever.

i need someone to believe in things with me.

happy endings don’t exist, that’s what the pollitically correct ones tell us, the ones that want to destroy the fairytales. that we aren’t able o believe in religions, but we want to believe in the eternal love from our childhood storybooks. we want some candy to our souls, not the eternal curse, thank you.

there’s a crisis in every fairytale, just like normal life. let’s pretend you have a shitty day and get fired. in a fairytale, you’r poisoned by the evil witch’s apple and fall into a deep sleep, just like you’re dead. ok, fairytales are clearly more poetic than life itself. anyway, in both cases your prince comes, gives you a kiss and you finally wake up. in the real world, you still don’t have a job and won’t be able to buy that book you’ve been wanting for ages. it makes you think “ok, maybe things aren’t that bad”, and you don’t live ahppily ever after. you go to the bedroom or just hook up in the stairs, where the PG rated movie ends. but the moral of the real story, and of its “once upon a time” version too, is that when you top following the story, the characters are happy and together. and that’s what matters. that’s what i want.

‘cause i don’t have a reason to wake up every morning, knowing that i have this routine to stick up to, if i don’t have anyone with me. no one waiting for mw to come home in the end of the day, eaiting to know if we’re going out for dinner or just staying in and having sex and ordering some pizza. because you know, when it ends, it’s the end.

depression.

are we ever going to be satisfied? isn’t what we have enough? why do we have to insist on waiting for complete happiness when we don’t even believe it exists? it’s the forever they taught us to believe it’s eternal as it lasts, but without “buts”. it doesn’t exist. when nothing’s wrong, nothing’s right either. if it is, it won’t last long that way. a lot of people may think it’s depression, but it isn’t. sylvia plath once said it was just staying under the glass. air doesn’t enter, air doesn’t get out. unbreathable, rarified. everything ouside is blurried to the one suffocated in its own breathing.

it came closer. i couldn’t believe it yet. that’s the sensation, right? but why?

trent reznor said: i focus on the pain, the only thing that’s real.

to me, it’s a feeling of insignificance in the eyes of the world. a feeling of a grain of sand in the beach, a person before the planet. being small, when the magnitude of all the rest is there, mocking you. but at the sime time, knowing that if you blow softly, it would cause a hurricane on the other side of the world.

all my life, i felt i was half of something.

i’m something that doesn’t exist without the obvious. peanut butter, that doesn’t exist without jam.

the emptiness in my stomach every time i have to leave.

i’m the eggbox. without me, they break. without them, i’m useless.

and that’s it. pieces. fragments.

because that’s the truth. i was trying to end it, but it has no end. they always tell half of the story.

because we don’t know the end. and we’ll never know.

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stelzer's rock star crushes [the best ever]

brandon boyd
bon jovi
kurt cobain
bono vox
brett michaels
robert plant
everyone in van halen
sebastian bach
tobias sammet
axl rose [on the good times]
elvis presley
bruce dickinson
david mustan
eddie vedder
chris cornell
jack white
morrissey
kevin jonas
nick carter

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carô's rock boy crushes

william beckett
brandon boyd
john lennon
kurt cobain
nick valensi
travis clark
george craig
jeremy bryan
jeremy davis
andrew vanwyngarden
chuck hypolito
quinn allman
mitch walker
dallas green
johnny borel
elvis presley
daniel johns
aaron gillespie
jack white
derek bloom
caleb followill
jared followill
jared leto
max green
craig nicholls
carl barôt
nick hodgson
tegan and sara
alex turner

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rock boy crushes

brandon boyd
kurt cobain
thomas conrad
nick valensi
martin johnson
paul mccartney
conor oberst
jeremy bryan
jeremy davis
andrew vanwyngarden
chuck hypolito
mitch lucker
tom delonge
robert carmine
jay vaquer
paul banks
jack white
jared leto
tiago iorc
synyster gates
craig nicholls

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10/4
it is winter and the flowers are struggling to grow. i have forgotten how to tell you i love you i love you i love you i love you.

you are making fun of yourself, making me laugh at your own expense. You keep checking on me, looking back and smiling. I want to feel myself in your arms.

10/5
the streets are wet and empty. things are starting to smell of mildew and that doesn’t make me want you any less.

time is passing quickly but the months last forever and i lose track of the dates.

10/8
i am not in love with you, but i miss what we had. i miss you because you were such a big part of my life and i still care about you. i hope you are better than the last time i saw you. i hope you are on your way somewhere good. and yes, i hope you miss me or at least think about me from time to time.
your birthday is coming up. you will be an adult then, but you probably will not have grown up yet. that seems to be how things work.

- via love notes

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“

i can’t sleep.
i don’t like it.
i used to be able to sleep.
i’m worrying about it.
so i definitely won’t be able to sleep.

there are songs in my head that will not stop.
ever.
i’m serious, they never stop.
i mean, there it is - it’s there now…

they are there all day long but
they get worse when i go to bed.
i lie there, i try not to hear them, i end up tapping my foot - literally.

i visualise taking the needle off the record (because i am quite old so i think in vinyl) but it doesn’t stop.

eventually i do fall asleep but the second i wake up…
there it is again.

it’s not always songs i even like either. that’s worse.

a few years back when i gave up smoking, i couldn’t sleep a wink.
a song i liked was stuck in my head so badly that i ended up sitting in the bathroom in tears at 4am - it was on a loop and i couldn’t make it stop.
and it was so loud!

night night.
xx
”
— via http://stringbeanjean.blogspot.com/

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“i miss my past life.
i miss the swans on the lawn and the terribly amusing parties that father used to throw.
when i awoke today, i was overwhelmed with the feeling that i was living someone else’s life.
i could not find my favourite day dress this morning, the pink one with the accordian pleats and the leg o’ mutton sleeves. i was quite cross. i shouted for alice and quickly realised that, that was then and this is now and there was no point calling alice for she no longer exists, indeed, nor do i.
there was no breakfast set out for me so i made toast and ate it alone, in the garden. cook would turn in her grave.
i fed my cats and put on some music. i listened to ‘nuit provencal’ but it only reminded me of my holidays with aunt kitty..
‘parlez nuits sans rivales,
les belles nuits d’ete,
la la la la!’
it didn’t cheer me at all.
some days, i feel very confused by television and shopping centres.
some nights i awake in a fright, longing for my canary, the piano or the comfort of the servants.”
— via http://stringbeanjean.blogspot.com/