Your invisible presence in every beat

Sitting in the most quiet…and cold…corner of the library, I realize again why I quite enjoy techno and house music now and then…listening to Shaun Baker’s Explode 2. Sometimes my mind forgets what it is like to dance inside and house is so nice for writing poetry…on the verge…between monotony and insanity.
Last night in my usual three hours of being-awake-before-I-fall-asleep, I remembered several dreams I had of you some months back…kissing you in a tent…feeling how I closed my eyes (in the dream!) and I felt your lips so close (guess it cant get more surreal in life). In fact, it was the first time you ever had a face…and the other dream when I thought I saw you in a bus…but there…your presence was invisible.
I feel you travel.

You will be the only one I ever dance with.

In this mood I will never get done with my poem of Joan of Arc…but anyway keeping myself in the mood with Camelot – Joan of Arc. I read some psychologist really believe that, as a virgin, she freed France only to get sexually aroused by so many men around her. Quite a statement, isnt it?…

Since a friend back in Germany gave birth to her child (well, what else) I am psychologically so out of order…checking for children books – with the excuse my mum might need them for her English lessons. Is it wise to found your own family when you yourself never really had one (or when you emotionally do not know what the word ”family” implies?)
Maybe just a natural need that we strive for company closer than to global individualism in each social act.

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