the posts are getting worse, i know.. but so does life..
Demolition woman, can I be your man?
der letzte Pfeil im Köcher
Schwermut, noch und nöcher
wo bist du, wo bleibst du, wo warst du?
der verirrte Gedanke kehrt zurück
ein Versuch seine Lippen zu lesen
scheitert kläglich am trägen Wesen
was lange währt, wird endlich schlecht -
du hattest recht
you know I don’t spend days like this, caught up in lost times of youth that I miss
i watched him eat
i wasn’t hungry
i gave him the money
he kept talking
about his plans he has with me
asking me about my family
what does he know?
born with a golden spoon up his ass
i’m not your friend
i’m not anybody’s friend
i don’t need anything
i don’t want anything from you
luckily the train came
just take the money
and shut up
orospular, pezevenkler, bıktım sizden
when i was a kid, i had this wart on the back of my hand. it was somewhere between the ring and little finger. i remember one day i was sitting in a bus, grabbing the seat in front of me and i noticed someone was looking. it’s funny that it often takes someone else to make us realize the obvious - so i was looking at this shapeless little thing, that was growing on my hand, even some hair was piercing through and it made me feel something.. i can’t exactly recall what it was.. but when it fell off one day, i missed it.. like i miss it now, among other things that fell off.. i.. i forgot where i was going with this.