One monkey with a typewriter

If you seat a monkey in front of a typewriter for an finite amount of time the chances of him actually writing something with an inherent novelty are slim.


The real tragedy in life is how you have to choose between sadness or sex. I know this sounds bitter. But this is also a little bit funny.

So I Hope this is an okay introduction.

No really. I am aware I am vaguely dressed like an Elton john impersonator, but no I am an original.

I really wonder where society is going, but I have to say it: It really looks like fun. I met a really nice Doja kitty at a bar tonight.

After I met a really nice group of people that are all kinda down because of relationships.

One of them I went to the gym with.

It was fun. Why is going to the gym fun.

I don’t know but this girl is Christian lara croft.

And she smokes fat cigars. No she doesn’t, but she is involved with the anti tabaco union in Germany,

I wanna go grilling tomorrow but I don’t have meat.

I am also a vegetarian or DO I JUST EAT TOO LITTLE.

A diary is supposed to be fun to read not scary. But I promise you I know magic.

I started reading this book about psychedelics and then things began to make sense.

I still don’t know if I am up because of the guy I met or because I am just a writer.

What form does a text even have to have to make sense. I also just wanna go to bed. I could smoke a cigarette and drink. But I honestly just wanna brush my teeth.

Argh. Almost fell asleep here.

I do this every day. I don’t really do this every day.

But I would say I have dibble debbled in sleep deprivation. I will write a morning update first thing in the morning. I have things to do. What are they again’?

Yeah, really lost myself in someone in the first time since forever.

Does Jesus and love have something to do with each other. There are so many relationships going on. I don’t even have to care about any singular one.

Love is a dog from hell. How the fuck did I grow up on Charles Bukowski. This is not meant nostalgic, but really it really is similar to Spanish being the language of love is. Learning.

Oops wanted to play criminal minds for a second, so I understand what was going on during my childhood. Of course I am a performer than that was forever taught to lie.

I am in aw of lifes beauty, but I don’t feel fresh. I think I might take a shower.

German has become the symbol of making things.

I think that’s 4. Reich.

Some is trash, some of this ripe.

If this counts as poem I disagree. Am I talking to myself. Or to you about my problems.


I am a broken person. But I see this as good. I want to have scars. I want them to heal. It´s a bit like kintsugi but without the golden shimmer. I want to suffer through it all. Because living without pain does not make living worthwhile. I want to feel at my limit and even break down. Then I know how far I can go. It takes a lot of perspective to see the good in the bad. It takes a lot of ignorance to see the bad in the good. But as cliché as it is the ying and yang applies. So don´t ever expect to feel happy without a little bit sad, and never forget to smile when you have tears in your eyes. And live your life in a way that your tear sacks go dry. Mine have dried out a long time ago and I never understood why. I´ve not suffered nearly enough. I´ve not nearly had it hard enough. I need more suffering, even in vain. I cannot explain my strength, maybe it is my weakness. People call me out for people pleasing, so who am I pleasing? When I talk to myself, I justify it by saying it is all just for the greater plan of fucking you all over one day. For a long time, I never could say no, nowadays it is pretty much all I do. I sit in my chamber. It feels medieval. Just replaced the candles with screens, cigarettes and meaningless sex. We have given up our search for meaning, as it wasn´t good. Now we just wanna be here. Live in the moment. But all I do is make the moments pass by faster. As if I feel scared of getting stuck in time if I rest. And when we rest we don´t really rest anymore. We try to make time go by faster in a laying position. I think a lot of people misunderstand repression. It´s not like everything you´ve not been thinking floods your mind in the very moment you are alone with your thoughts. You´ve put your processing on hold. You only see the people that seem important to you. You cannot control yourself. You can only control that which controls you. Romantic gestures were sold to us. They´re still nice. Be nice to your neighbours. Be nice to strangers. You have your people. You have an eye for them. Don´t ignore them when you see them. You can get over anything within a month. Trust this. The people who you let surround you will decide whether you feel miserable or content. Be afraid when you leave. But be excited. There is no such thing as a natural truth. All truths arise from humans. Choose your own. Your morals have to most importantly serve yourself. I have never met anyone who honestly wanted to do harm. I´ve met many that do harm out of desperation. Today I woke up with a purpose. A purpose is not something you can put into words. It is one of those feelings that almost all people feel and someone could not resist and tried to catch it. But some feelings are wilder than any animal out there. So see purpose more like a caught feather of a bird to big to be caught by anyone. Even if it can´t be caught the feather is impressive by itself.