And I'm so hot 'cos I'm in hell

you're never as alone as when surrounded only by those who consider you "different"... but you know what? fuck'em.

i really don’t like using such violent language against other women…

…but my partner’s mother is such a CUNT. 

she knows i’m in the city, she knows i arrived to the country almost two months ago, does not bother to say hi. she’s constantly complaining about how i “demands all of her son’s attention”, because we live together (preposterous, who would think of such a thing, two consenting adults living together), even though he spends one or two nights a week at her place and visits her two or three times a week. 

now, her latest stunt was to ask him to go with her on a holiday trip to egypt, just the two of them; which would result in me spending christmas alone, in a city where i don’t know practically anyone, in a country where i don’t have a single friend or family member… and what can i say? nothing appart from the fact that i don’t want to spend christmas alone. i don’t want her to be alone either (although she usually doesn’t mind, she goes on vacation to all sorts of “exotic” places about three times a year, has not asked him to come with her in years, so i know this is simply to fuck with me). wouldn’t tell him any of this (i know better than to mess with somebody’s mother), but i know it, she’s a complete and utter CUNT.



just like that.



things that probably shouldn’t piss me off that much, but…

i swear every time i hear someone slurping their food (not just soup, actual solid food too, disgusting), i cannot control myself and get these murdering impulses and stuff… shit. 



“Preguntas Hermosas” is a story about a time that was shared between two people, told through a combination of “Poema X” by Pablo Neruda and “Under the Harvest Moon” by Carl Sandburg. It unfolds in three parts; a fond remembrance, loss, and then finally acceptance.
Produced at Süperfad (www.superfad.com)



i’m going to milano!!! (with a very special someone) holy shit…

i’m going to milano!!! (with a very special someone) holy shit…





“we must begin to understand that a revolution entails not only the willingness to lay our lives on the firing line and get killed. in some ways, this is an easy commitment to make. to die for the revolution is a one shot deal; to live for the revolution means taking on the more difficult commitment of changing our day-to-day life patterns. this will mean changing the traditional routines that we have established as a result of living in a totally corrupting society.”

frances beal



don’t judge a -something- by its -something else-…? oh what ever.

is it completely wrong and incredibly shallow of me to find someone less attractive when they tell me they’re (going) vegan?



the “eye contact line” theory

so i went to this party, yeah another mistake in a long history of fails -that aren’t actually failures but understandable attempts of socialization and integration, but that are also subject to my inflated expectations so unavoidably end up as such (failures)-. so, the party, i go there with a couple of people, and well, didn’t talk to anyone-didn’t meet anyone, and i can’t help but pinned it to the excuse d’jour i suppose: germans, or more like europeans. these people will not talk to anyone, or only to each other, the people they attended the party with or who knows what, but the point is there was no socialization what so ever on my end (except for a really drunk guy who tapped me on the head and slurred: “love your hat”).

i am aware of the fact that i in no way make enough of an effort to meet people, go out, or have any kind of social life, but on the one hand that’s the way i am, it has always been difficult for me to approach people, now it’s even worse because i have thrown myself in an environment i know nothing about and where i have nothing to relate, so the feeling of “i’m probably blowing it” is constant. on the other hand, these people are just so different, i know i could’ve not expected anything else given that i’m in culture that is pretty much the complete opposite of mine, but flying spaghetti monster damn; it is hard. how am i gonna talk to people and meet people, if not even at a party they make eye contact with you? it is so frustrating, i feel as if people don’t know i exist, or worse, deliberately act as if they didn’t, and i hate it. and i’m not even asking for attention, some simple recognition of my human being status at an “international”, “multicultural” setting would’ve been okay… maybe i’m too short and therefore bellow their “eye contact line”, perhaps.