hmm

1,2,3 Too many details!!!

Thinking of David again. Pretentiousness, and boring never-ending details: unintelligent published diary. No excuses. Watching Legally Blonde was somewhat helpful. I should probably go all the way. Here's some extreme - girly writing.

I am high. I was so sad from the health insurance situation and life that I got high. people might say a "bitter sweet" feeling. I can try to describe it forever because it feels infinite.
I even enjoyed breathing other people's cigarette smoke. In love with the night.
Its a Friday night a very smooth warm and dry night. I am not wearing a coat today, just this nice big guy dark blue sweater with a zipper. it has a very nice big sweater-collar, the kind that goes up and stays up even when you open the zipper at the front - like Elvis. i like it. everyone else is still wearing coats, scarves and even winter hats. I guess that I'm the only one who feels this warmth.
21:00
on the train back from work. No mobile phone, I forgot it at home.
I'm so lonely tonight, but that's why I'm high, and why I feel like a teenager. I didn't have this secret-lonesome escape feeling since then.
Escape from everything. Quitting everything. Its very close to death, truly.
I had just finished M.'s journal (a published diary) from the 1880s. The ending is very strong. It ends just 11 days before her death. She was 23. She never had a love relationship, but at the end she started to visit B. who was at the verge of death himself. Also very young. Both were painters in the 1880s in Paris. B. is quite famous. Anyway they had a love relationship towards their deaths, even though she says its not romantic, you feel a love relationship through her writing. They took turns in visiting each other daily in their fatal illnesses!! Each one of them with their personal assistant, practically carrying them. They couldn't keep away from each other!
21:15
Ah, this Friday night is so sweet and gentle. I am sitting now on the seats in Jannowitzbrueke Ubahn station surrounded by red velvet rose petals, next to an equally beautiful girl. Now she left and a man took her place. he has a closed bottle of red wine in his hand which he is examining. he's dark, Turkish looking, but then he cannot be a religious Muslim, with gentle big dark eyes, the kind that are beautifully outlined by long black eyelashes. I'm going to the Vietnamese near Hermannplatz.
It has become my hummus place in Berlin. a place where people are waiting in line for a free spot to sit, just like in a good hummus place. and people come to eat there alone, like I will, like they do in a good hummus place, and they are seated at the same small table with other strangers. I like to speak with the stranger that is sitting with me at the table.