Hab vorhin in kleinem Eifer (der gerade rapide durch Müdigkeit ersetzt wird) auf einer US-Seite gepostet. Weiß noch nicht, ob ich daraus mal eine Tradition mache, aber dies hier ist eine, würd ich sagen. Daher kopier ich den Text mal hierher. Wer weiß, entweder versinkt dieser Versuch schon bald wieder in der Vergessenheit, oder hier kommt jetzt öfter mal was auf Englisch dazwischen...:
it's midnight, and i'm wide awake. haven´t had this in years. they had to drive me home today, said i was much too pale, even for my own standards. said i shouldn´t drive a car. i didn´t. not until later. i guess that´s what it´s like when they take my blood away after all.
what stupid rubbish, opening a diary at midnight, in a foreign language, on a foreign country's site. let's see where it gets me. maybe there is intelligent life on this planet somewhere. not that i would assume it to be in the US - i just thought english is the only universal language i can speak a little.
i guess tonight i don´t write for myself anyway. i write for whoever might be reading this. i seem to be too stupid to post pictures here, so i´m here, only writing. i´m not in my bed because i´m sleepless for the first time in years. i never had a sleepless night, but this one is killing me. i´m wearing my bathrobe, my fingernails are green, my hair is red and greasy, sorry guys. i can´t focus on my studies right now, i do not have a tv set, and i´m not in the mood for one of the thousands of illegally downloaded film files on my pc (yah, sure...whatever). i have no book i haven´t read before. not here. not in paper with actual pages.
what do you do with sleepless nights? telling the part of the world that is awake about yourself? i can't say who or what i am, and people who can are usually stupid and simple (yah i know it's the same), in my humble opinion. but it's easy to say what i'm not. i'm not funny, nope, no entertainer here. i´m a cynic, and i make use of sarcasm once in a while, but if you think that makes me funny, you have completely misunderstood me. i'm not sexy either, if that's the reason for anyone to read all this crap in here... i'm a good-looking woman, and i'm sensual, but i won't tell you much about that, so no hopes up, please. i'm not one of those creepy little overrated psychos that tell you about how cool they are if they are only lost and in pain and suicidal members of some subculture, and melancholic and vain. bullshit. i am a working-class university student with studies, jobs and a kitchen i share with nine other women. i don't have time for teenage stupidities. am i a world-hating maneater? no, of course not. i don't hate the world, just the people in it. I love nature. and i wouldn´t eat men. they only taste good if you swallow them with love, and i don´t have much of that to offer at the moment.
usually i sleep whenever i have a free minute. my bed is my best friend. i have four alarm clocks and a straying cat who wakes me up quite regularly, and sometimes all of them are making noise in the morning, and i just don´t wake up until somebody comes in, shakes my arm or my foot, sits down at my desk, messes up my impeccable order and shouts some sentences that end with "... and can i have a cigarette?". why am i awake tonight? i have no idea. could be the moon. or my cycle. or my bad health today. or the new pills. for two weeks i´ve been having them now. they kill me. hopefully not literally, but in any other sence they do. my psychosis is vanishing, but at some points during the day i just sit there and i'm too tired to even lift an eyelid. usually when i'm attending a seminar. or when i'm working. i must talk to the doc, must get out of that pill-deal.
mon ami, my little straying furry black friend is back. he`s all wet; it`s raining outside. he's already in my bed. i'll go with him now and try my best...