A guy just wrote me an E-Mail that I could name this blog easily into „suffering blog“.
Tell you this guy:

I was wondering why I could cry. I never cried in my life beside of movies (asshole Hollywood with it’s blockbuster music and the scenes where no fucking one has dry eyes, beside the ones who are just to stupid) before. Never. When my earlier relations broke I wondered why for gods sake I wasn’t crying. It was (clichee) like in this romantic movie (Hollywood again, here we go)  The Holiday. I was sitting there and crying the shit out of my motherfucking head. A friend took me, like a child, and pressed me against his shoulder, mentioning: men are so most cruel beings when it comes to suffering. They suffer like hell.

Well. Another thing is: I am quiet a nice guy. Not a nice guy if you get it, some may me call asshole. Well, fuck off, fuck it. BUT: I don’t cheat if there is a person I found I think it’s worth not cheating, you know. I’ll give up motherfucking everything. And so was she. Gave it up. Fell. Happy fell on the face.

But this won’t end up like the 100.000.000st Blog in this god damn internet where a user cries: OUUUUUCH, IT HURTS SO MUCH.

Yeah. It hurts. So much. The pain-you think- will neeeeeeeeeever go away. You can’t believe to not see the persons face everywhere. Until you start to see so many new faces that you get bored by those old, odd faces. This old face. You start to force yourself: FORGET!

Then you forget to force yourself to forget. BINGO. Here you go.

But this „bingo“-thing didn’t happen to me jet.

Most of this tiny life I am searching, living in so many god damn cities, travelling so many times, seeing so many things that I was so god damn lucky to have the first step into settling..first time felt..something like love. This warm feeling, this colorful-emotionally experience.
And I figured out: it is more than that. More than your fantasy. For this little time.

Even this feeling is egoistic, but the first time I thought I could share. You know. Not this sensless fucking around -feeling so free because of the many times of different partners you have. No. It was that there was just one coitus I wanted to have. There it went. And this is S-H-I-T. Painful. Dirty.

The fucking around stories fill this blog far too good.

So stay online.

Keep on writing me.

And keep on experiencing yourself in every way.

Drinking, writing, reading, crying (as I figured out).

Cheers all of you.