Wallungen

我们谈到了 Netflix
我们谈论战争
乌克兰的武器
和我冰箱里的蘑菇
我们谈论我们的病骨
衣服、荷尔蒙、维生素
我们的事业和伴侣
人工智能和所有危机
我们今天读到的

but what is it with the hate in the world
and what is it with my flowers
they are dying, it’s too hot
but there’s nobody to water them
during my Ayurveda retreat
I compete with the time, and how are you ?

let me have a sip of wine
and I’ll tell you what I think
about the elections, the stars and tanks
I’ll tell you how I see the future or the past
through James Webb Space Telescope
how I cope with not having hope
for the world
as long as it gives me comfort
and the feeling of importance
I’m informed, and how about you?

there’s an olive in my mouth
mixed with quinoa salad
and the fruit
strange fruit, bitter touch
a sip of a french wine,
intertwined with words like
strike and mother and all the other
less important people
but have we ever spoken about NATO?
the kids in Yemen or Plato?

我口中的全球化
自给自足的味觉、听觉和思维的混合体
毫无新意
总能证明生命在此
幸福与成功的准三维童话
我很充实，你呢？

她不请自来
金色长发
她的美丽在我面前尖叫、
她眼中残存的自然
在那双彩虹般的眼睛里
伪装成信任，因为她会认为

under those layers
I imagine her short past
her future
and the answers
to why the heck does she think
I’d be happy to get her advice

I hope she’s not planning
To talk to me
with only 20 years of being here
in this world

there is a perfume wall between us
sweet – flowers dung on my tongue
I do not breathe
I hope she won’t talk
I hope she won’t instruct me
about the needs
of my mid – forties face

然后开始
坚持不懈，多言多语
我奔向那失聪的心境
唯一能避免
她关于如何重新定义
年龄，我的皱纹
黑斑和松弛的脸颊

ah, she knows so well what I need
reciting the lyrics of that Douglas Lied
thinking – I’ll be happy to get her guidance
about the demands of midlife crisis

恩典不是我的感觉
潮热才是我的感受
需要一个出气筒或尖叫声、
在这充满文字的隧道尽头绽放曙光

I need a solution for my mood
not another reason for being rude
if I only could…
I’m shrinking, I’m thinking
whether to buy
the most expensive thing in the store
or nothing at all
I need a solution for my anger

恩典不是我的感觉
潮热才是我的感受
情绪波动
脑雾
缺乏动力
头痛
盗汗
乳房触痛
潮热
月经停止
消化问题
体重迅速增加
性欲减退
阴道干涩
骨质疏松症
关节僵硬
肌肉酸痛
信心下降
头发稀疏
皮肤干燥
粉刺
眼睛干涩
皱纹
口干
腹胀
疲劳
失眠
焦虑
尿痛
潮湿感
口腔灼热
面部毛发
头晕
注意力不集中
抑郁

她不请自来
金色长发
她的美丽在我面前尖叫
她的名字是：把你的一切都卖给我

我知道那个虚无之地
皇室的懒惰和神圣的绞刑
一个我从不打开天气应用程序的地方、
并为各种场合准备睡衣的地方

a silent protest of the dust spread around all the floors
like grey blow-balls dispersed around the summer afternoon
but I don’t care, I let them live their dusty lives

而我是我时代的女王
在沙发和厨房之间巡游
点菜，发出快乐午后的感叹

I make a list of all the things I won’t do today:
I won’t try
I won’t let the guilt to sneak in this light room
only sunlight in the room
I won’t…

I won’t plan, or… I will
It’s nice to spend a minute or two
thinking about me do
nothing else but making blue
like that German girl I knew
she was the best, the master in blau machen
she would be able to make the whole world easy
like Sunday morning,

easy like the feather lost in that baby – blue sky

Everything starts with a cloud.
from big bang to the cloud
to the little big bang of the birth,
to bean stew every Friday,
from hating it to loving it,
to getting sick of it over the years,
to becoming nostalgic about the familiar, and missing that stew again,
working on it until it tastes like mother’s, then passing the recipe to the first friend that visited.

有意识和无意识行为的微妙结合
炖出完美的豆子。

entropy of my will,
longing for the Friday’s bean stew in my family home,
a bit of stardust,
technology,
infinite procrastination,
hunger, 400g of white beans planted by some Stephan in Oyten,
and extra time that social distancing gave us to start missing the things.

meanwhile the snow stopped,
that tireless boy from downstairs is turning the building upside-down
the universe is still expanding,
my neighbourhood sounds busy,
police sirens acting like Munich is a metropole,
and I’m trying to get my head around this chaotic thoughts,
eager to make an order of this disorder of a system.
all turning towards transformation,
as Greeks would translate.

There is no end. there is only the process that is happening in uncountable Nows.
Now now now…

at the end there can still be some dancing with the dead,
ashes turned into shiny colorful beads,
or what I would choose – sitting on a chair, in the fanciest of clothes,
with a lit cigarette in my lips.

始于云，终于云。