Youth - Daughter

one suicide victim who committed suicide by jumping from the golden gate bridge left behind a note saying:
"i'm going to walk to the bridge. if one person smiles at me on the way, i will not jump."

sieh es endlich ein...

es ist debil, wenn du denkst, du hättest es endlich geschafft. du könntest nun ein normales leben führen. ohne abhängigkeiten, ohne deine alten spleens und ohne den kleinen wahnsinn, den du so oft drauf hast. der dich sonderbar erscheinen lässt. anstrengend für einige. völlig unakzeptabel für andere. ok, du rauchst nun nicht mehr. bis auf ein paar winzige ausreisser. kleine ausreisser in deine alte raucherwelt. aber sonst bist du fast clean. du hast sogar abgenommen, damit du wenigstens in neue  klamotten reinpasst, wenn dein altes leben schon nicht mehr zu dir passt.

aber warum heulst du im schlaf? warum bist du gottverdammt nie glücklich? du hast es doch geschafft, oder? du hast dich endlich weg gemacht, dein altes anstrengendes ich. warum kannst du nie zufrieden sein? warum kannst du es nie schaffen, endlich ein normales leben zu führen? weil du nicht normal bist, mein schatz. und für's normal sein ist es jetzt wirklich zu spät. gewöhn dich dran.

we glow

zero

irgendein kind
läuft durch glatte strassen
vorbei an stahlbeton und glas
ignoriert euer starren, eure gesichter fliegen vorbei
liest strassennamen nicht mehr
liest eure gesichter nicht mehr
es verlässt eure stadt
und erwähnt sie nicht mehr

"What if, on a crowded street, you look up and see something appear that should not, given what we know, be there. You either shake your head and dismiss it, or you accept that there is much more to the world than we think. Perhaps it really is a doorway to another place. If you choose to go inside you may find many unexpected things."

-Shigeru Miyamoto

Which Historical Lunatic Are You?

Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.

Which Historical Lunatic Are You?

You are Charles VI of France, also known as Charles the Mad or Charles the Well-Beloved!

A fine, amiable and dreamy young man, skilled in horsemanship and archery, you were also from a long line of dribbling madmen. King at 12 and quickly married to your sweetheart, Bavarian Princess Isabeau, you enjoyed many happy months together before either of you could speak anything of the other's language. However, after illness you became a tad unstable. When a raving lunatic ran up to your entourage spouting an incoherent prophecy of doom, you were unsettled enough to slaughter four of your best men when a page dropped a lance. Your hair and nails fell out. At a royal masquerade, you and your courtiers dressed as wild men, ending in tragedy when four of them accidentally caught fire and burned to death. You were saved by the timely intervention of the Duchess of Berry's underskirts.

This brought on another bout of sickness, which surgeons countered by drilling holes in your skull. The following months saw you suffer an exorcism, beg your friends to kill you, go into hyperactive fits of gaiety, run through your rooms to the point of exhaustion, hide from imaginary assassins, claim your name was Georges, deny that you were King and fail to recognise your family. You smashed furniture and wet yourself at regular intervals. Passing briefly into erratic genius, you believed yourself to be made of glass and demanded iron rods in your attire to prevent you breaking.

In 1405 you stopped bathing, shaving or changing your clothes. This went on until several men were hired to blacken their faces, hide, jump out and shout "boo!", upon which you resumed basic hygiene. Despite this, your wife continued sleeping with you until 1407, when she hired a young beauty, Odette de Champdivers, to take her place. Isabeau then consoled herself, as it were, with your brother. Her lovers followed thick and fast while you became a pawn of your court, until you had her latest beau strangled and drowned.
A severe fever was fended off with oranges and pomegranates in vast quantities, but you succumbed again in 1422 and died. Your disease was most likely hereditary. Unfortunately, you had anywhere up to eleven children, who variously went on to develop capriciousness, great cruelty, insecurity, paranoia, revulsion towards food and, in one case, a phobia of bridges.