Oh baby,
Would you please teach them how to love me?
I’m terrified by the idea that no one would ever do.
Could you, please, tell him? Tell him that I’m worth it. Let him fall in love with me.
You know, I didn’t want to lose you in order to find myself. I mean, it’s ridiculous! Why should things go that way?
I can find my own self without all of this pain.
I already found myself in the matter of fact. I’m chaos.
And it’s allright. I’m fine with that fact. I’m a mess, a hurricane, a summer storm, a train running late.
I’m a chaos. And it’s allright.
I think I told you once, I don’t like perfection; I find it boring.
I’ll be that woman, drunk at 12:00 am, writing you words of love.
When you’re loving another, hugging her tight in a night full of everything, but both of us.
I’ll be that woman, writing words of love that’ll never reach you.
And I guess it’s allright too.
See, I’m so torn apart that each reality would make since. Even the one in which I’m drowning in my own craziness.
No. I’m afraid it’s just an overrated love. An action of a sick mind. Trying to hold in any emotion it could get, because of the fact that it’s such rare. To find a feeling in this cursed body.
I won’t try to analyse it. It won’t reach you anyway.
Stages.
Collapsing.
Standing at the edge, can’t look beyond.
Crushing.
Seeking for a relief. Finding non.
Drowning.
Trying to put my head out of the water, the waves pull me down. And down. Deep deep down.
It had taken too long. I’m sick. It makes me sick.
I desire it no more. I demand my coldness back.
I petty myself. Crying for you over and over again, finding no peace.
No feelings. This is all I want. No feelings towards you. I want to rip you out of my heart, to tear your picture to one million pieces so it would be impossible to put it back together. I want every whisper of you out of my head.
Going crazy.
Running down the road in a rainy afternoon with my underwear, calling your name.
Being outspaced.
Writing feelings with fictional effects. Not being able to recognize what part of them is real.
Mourning.
Looking at myself in the mirror and grieving me, or you, or even the mix of us both.
Going crazy.
For one more time. God. And emptiness. The devil. And one thousand forms of emotions.
Going crazy.
Maybe for the last time. Searching a way out. Trapped in a room without windows when I’m having Claustrophobia.
Smashed.
Trying not to forget to take a breath after every whine, and to take my hand away from my mouth. My roommate would have to forgive me if she hears any of this. If it was the other way around I wouldn’t judge her anyway.
Praying.
Screams. Madness. Worshipping. Feeling numb, while strange voices attacking my mind. Madness; and nothing more.
Flashback.
Flashback, few months ago.
I just started working in the kindergarten. I remember myself holding a small kid, trying to put him asleep. And he is crying.
I tried to calm him down, and he wouldn’t stop crying. I still remember how frustrated I felt, I was about to cry. You were in my thoughts the whole time.
I was wounded. I had bare flesh. It felt back then like worms are eating my wild open scar.
I was hurt. My bones ached. I was burning. Not able to breathe.
I’ll never be able to put my feelings down into words. I know how impossible it is to describe emotions into sentences.
I thought I will never have my coldness back. And that was terrifying.
But here I am, almost healed. Walking the path without you. Spreading my blossoms all over. Opening my arms, greeting life.
There I am, standing exactly where I wanted to. Achieving my wishes and desires, not letting your shadow to cover the sunlight.
I am what I meant to be. Free.
A comeback.
It feels so strange to have you back in my reality.
Well, it’s more in my daydreaming, or thoughts, or mind, or imagination.
Anything but reality.
And it’s even more strange for your image to knock on my door after I’ve been with someone else.
I mean, it doesn’t make sense at all.
And it doesn’t mean that I was with him in order to get over you, or to feel like I’m having a revenge. But that I can move on, that I’m ready to go on with my life. I’m not struggling with my past anymore. I left it where I should’ve left it.
Can you see what I’m trying to tell?
I was trying to say: I miss you.
Or perhaps, get the fuck out of my thoughts, make some room to others!
I’m I repeating myself? Have I written this before?
What was I trying to write anyway?
I quit. Blank.
Counting the time.
It’s almost 4:00 am in the morning.
Can’t go back to sleep; just because of the fact that I fell asleep at 17:00 pm and nothing more.
Trying to reflect my birthday although I meant to not make an issue out of it.
Bottom line: thank you for your heart warming wishes and greetings. I do hope you see me the way you described.
Between the lines: the silence is driving me crazy.
Here, maybe some music will make it better.
Or maybe not.
I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m doing good. I’m capable of this all.
What is it all about anyway? Everything is temporary.
Our existence as well. We’re just passing by, struggling our whole life with stupid meaningless conflicts. Trying to make a tower out of polluted air. Fighting the logic and the most basic physics rules.
Fifteen minutes have passed. The silence still blowing in my ears. Somehow the music makes nothing.
Can’t force my thoughts to line up. I’m losing control, they’re running all around the universe and coming back smashed to me. What am I supposed to do with smashed broken thoughts? How do you deal with them?
I wanted to say things; that I lost the words for.
I’m wondering, how would it be when I go back home?
And can’t even understand why I want to, when all my life I was seeking for a way out.
I guess I might be afraid. I ripped myself out that I can’t belong anymore.
And it’s not that I did belonged.
I’ll be walking at the edge, praying to keep my balance. I don’t want to make a call.
An hour almost passed.
My heart is numb. You’ll be damned if you ruined it.
Inner chaos.
I was invited tonight to a dinner by a super lovely old couple.
They had this nice apartment; everything designed and organized pretty well.
While we were sitting at the table, I couldn’t but to notice this amazing chemistry they had between them. At some point, she interrupted him somehow when he was talking. And the moment she realized, she touched his arm and said „sorry“.
I could see us in them.
Us, as an old loving couple, stealing few touches and kisses; ignoring the entire world.
After that, I walked into the mall with a friend. To see the perfume you were using. I couldn’t hold myself from pouring few drops on my wrist. I was breathing it as if I tried hard enough I could have you here.
I’m still inhaling it. Letting it spread all over my lungs; polluting and tearing them apart.
I want to inject it in my veins.
This is where I want you.
Infecting each and every cell. Corrupting and beating them.
I want you inside me.
And it’s time now to wonder, how is it that I still want you. Just to forget about it tomorrow morning, to write you again.
See, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m just going insane.
A bottle of wine.
Morning. Birds singing.
Nostalgic feelings which I can have only here.
Laying down in my bed. Not ready yet to start the day.
I’m home. Wish I could have a bottle of wine to think clearer.
I’m empty; I have nothing inside me. It seems to not matter at all anyway.
I had lots of lots of feelings, I had the universe in my heart. I had the ocean, and the stars. I had all the symphonies, and the beauty. I had god, shaped as your smile attached to my heart. I had the nature. The mountains, the waterfalls, the shiny fields.
I had love.
It didn’t matter anyway. I’m empty.
I have a hole in my heart. The sunshine can only pass through, but never stay in.
I’m empty. Terrified to have feelings once again. I don’t want to go into that hell for another round. I’m not fully healed yet.
I had love. I might have the greatest one ever.
Apparently, it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t make you stay with me.
I’m looking for the day when I can replace my heart with a new one. The one I have now is way too damaged.
I’m empty. Nothing could ever help.
A goodbye.
I’m leaving this beautiful city tonight.
I’m spending my time now by laying down on my bed.
I’m taking every sun light inside into me. Trying not to miss any of them.
It has been a great year. I can say it now, it was the best decision I’ve ever made.
I’m grateful for the things I’ve achieved here, for the people and the great friends that I met, for every step that I took walking the streets of the city, exploring more and more beauty, for the air I breath every second, for the cold nights and the bright days, for every view and every star, I’m grateful for every butterfly kissing the rose, for letting myself to open to myself and others as well, for every bird’s song and every whisper, for the great emotions and the laughs, for each smile and each hug.
I’m already aching for everything here.
My life are packed into suitcases. Waiting to be transformed back home. Would it feel like home I wonder?
Shamya Taun, 23 Jahre besuchte Deutschland das erste Mal im Rahmen eines Jugendaustausches, als sie noch zur Schule ging. Seit dem hat sie an einigen Austauschprojekten teilgenommen und machte einen einjährigen Freiwilligendienst in einem Kindergarten in Deutschland.
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Finding myself.
Oh baby,
Would you please teach them how to love me?
I’m terrified by the idea that no one would ever do.
Could you, please, tell him? Tell him that I’m worth it. Let him fall in love with me.
You know, I didn’t want to lose you in order to find myself. I mean, it’s ridiculous! Why should things go that way?
I can find my own self without all of this pain.
I already found myself in the matter of fact. I’m chaos.
And it’s allright. I’m fine with that fact. I’m a mess, a hurricane, a summer storm, a train running late.
I’m a chaos. And it’s allright.
I think I told you once, I don’t like perfection; I find it boring.
I’ll be that woman, drunk at 12:00 am, writing you words of love.
When you’re loving another, hugging her tight in a night full of everything, but both of us.
I’ll be that woman, writing words of love that’ll never reach you.
And I guess it’s allright too.
See, I’m so torn apart that each reality would make since. Even the one in which I’m drowning in my own craziness.
No. I’m afraid it’s just an overrated love. An action of a sick mind. Trying to hold in any emotion it could get, because of the fact that it’s such rare. To find a feeling in this cursed body.
I won’t try to analyse it. It won’t reach you anyway.
Stages.
Collapsing.
Standing at the edge, can’t look beyond.
Crushing.
Seeking for a relief. Finding non.
Drowning.
Trying to put my head out of the water, the waves pull me down. And down. Deep deep down.
It had taken too long. I’m sick. It makes me sick.
I desire it no more. I demand my coldness back.
I petty myself. Crying for you over and over again, finding no peace.
No feelings. This is all I want. No feelings towards you. I want to rip you out of my heart, to tear your picture to one million pieces so it would be impossible to put it back together. I want every whisper of you out of my head.
Going crazy.
Running down the road in a rainy afternoon with my underwear, calling your name.
Being outspaced.
Writing feelings with fictional effects. Not being able to recognize what part of them is real.
Mourning.
Looking at myself in the mirror and grieving me, or you, or even the mix of us both.
Going crazy.
For one more time. God. And emptiness. The devil. And one thousand forms of emotions.
Going crazy.
Maybe for the last time. Searching a way out. Trapped in a room without windows when I’m having Claustrophobia.
Smashed.
Trying not to forget to take a breath after every whine, and to take my hand away from my mouth. My roommate would have to forgive me if she hears any of this. If it was the other way around I wouldn’t judge her anyway.
Praying.
Screams. Madness. Worshipping. Feeling numb, while strange voices attacking my mind. Madness; and nothing more.
Flashback.
Flashback, few months ago.
I just started working in the kindergarten. I remember myself holding a small kid, trying to put him asleep. And he is crying.
I tried to calm him down, and he wouldn’t stop crying. I still remember how frustrated I felt, I was about to cry. You were in my thoughts the whole time.
I was wounded. I had bare flesh. It felt back then like worms are eating my wild open scar.
I was hurt. My bones ached. I was burning. Not able to breathe.
I’ll never be able to put my feelings down into words. I know how impossible it is to describe emotions into sentences.
I thought I will never have my coldness back. And that was terrifying.
But here I am, almost healed. Walking the path without you. Spreading my blossoms all over. Opening my arms, greeting life.
There I am, standing exactly where I wanted to. Achieving my wishes and desires, not letting your shadow to cover the sunlight.
I am what I meant to be. Free.
A comeback.
It feels so strange to have you back in my reality.
Well, it’s more in my daydreaming, or thoughts, or mind, or imagination.
Anything but reality.
And it’s even more strange for your image to knock on my door after I’ve been with someone else.
I mean, it doesn’t make sense at all.
And it doesn’t mean that I was with him in order to get over you, or to feel like I’m having a revenge. But that I can move on, that I’m ready to go on with my life. I’m not struggling with my past anymore. I left it where I should’ve left it.
Can you see what I’m trying to tell?
I was trying to say: I miss you.
Or perhaps, get the fuck out of my thoughts, make some room to others!
I’m I repeating myself? Have I written this before?
What was I trying to write anyway?
I quit. Blank.
Counting the time.
It’s almost 4:00 am in the morning.
Can’t go back to sleep; just because of the fact that I fell asleep at 17:00 pm and nothing more.
Trying to reflect my birthday although I meant to not make an issue out of it.
Bottom line: thank you for your heart warming wishes and greetings. I do hope you see me the way you described.
Between the lines: the silence is driving me crazy.
Here, maybe some music will make it better.
Or maybe not.
I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m doing good. I’m capable of this all.
What is it all about anyway? Everything is temporary.
Our existence as well. We’re just passing by, struggling our whole life with stupid meaningless conflicts. Trying to make a tower out of polluted air. Fighting the logic and the most basic physics rules.
Fifteen minutes have passed. The silence still blowing in my ears. Somehow the music makes nothing.
Can’t force my thoughts to line up. I’m losing control, they’re running all around the universe and coming back smashed to me. What am I supposed to do with smashed broken thoughts? How do you deal with them?
I wanted to say things; that I lost the words for.
I’m wondering, how would it be when I go back home?
And can’t even understand why I want to, when all my life I was seeking for a way out.
I guess I might be afraid. I ripped myself out that I can’t belong anymore.
And it’s not that I did belonged.
I’ll be walking at the edge, praying to keep my balance. I don’t want to make a call.
An hour almost passed.
My heart is numb. You’ll be damned if you ruined it.
Inner chaos.
I was invited tonight to a dinner by a super lovely old couple.
They had this nice apartment; everything designed and organized pretty well.
While we were sitting at the table, I couldn’t but to notice this amazing chemistry they had between them. At some point, she interrupted him somehow when he was talking. And the moment she realized, she touched his arm and said „sorry“.
I could see us in them.
Us, as an old loving couple, stealing few touches and kisses; ignoring the entire world.
After that, I walked into the mall with a friend. To see the perfume you were using. I couldn’t hold myself from pouring few drops on my wrist. I was breathing it as if I tried hard enough I could have you here.
I’m still inhaling it. Letting it spread all over my lungs; polluting and tearing them apart.
I want to inject it in my veins.
This is where I want you.
Infecting each and every cell. Corrupting and beating them.
I want you inside me.
And it’s time now to wonder, how is it that I still want you. Just to forget about it tomorrow morning, to write you again.
See, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m just going insane.
A bottle of wine.
Morning. Birds singing.
Nostalgic feelings which I can have only here.
Laying down in my bed. Not ready yet to start the day.
I’m home. Wish I could have a bottle of wine to think clearer.
I’m empty; I have nothing inside me. It seems to not matter at all anyway.
I had lots of lots of feelings, I had the universe in my heart. I had the ocean, and the stars. I had all the symphonies, and the beauty. I had god, shaped as your smile attached to my heart. I had the nature. The mountains, the waterfalls, the shiny fields.
I had love.
It didn’t matter anyway. I’m empty.
I have a hole in my heart. The sunshine can only pass through, but never stay in.
I’m empty. Terrified to have feelings once again. I don’t want to go into that hell for another round. I’m not fully healed yet.
I had love. I might have the greatest one ever.
Apparently, it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t make you stay with me.
I’m looking for the day when I can replace my heart with a new one. The one I have now is way too damaged.
I’m empty. Nothing could ever help.
A goodbye.
I’m leaving this beautiful city tonight.
I’m spending my time now by laying down on my bed.
I’m taking every sun light inside into me. Trying not to miss any of them.
It has been a great year. I can say it now, it was the best decision I’ve ever made.
I’m grateful for the things I’ve achieved here, for the people and the great friends that I met, for every step that I took walking the streets of the city, exploring more and more beauty, for the air I breath every second, for the cold nights and the bright days, for every view and every star, I’m grateful for every butterfly kissing the rose, for letting myself to open to myself and others as well, for every bird’s song and every whisper, for the great emotions and the laughs, for each smile and each hug.
I’m already aching for everything here.
My life are packed into suitcases. Waiting to be transformed back home. Would it feel like home I wonder?
Shamya Taun, 23 Jahre
besuchte Deutschland das erste Mal im Rahmen eines Jugendaustausches, als sie noch zur Schule ging. Seit dem hat sie an einigen Austauschprojekten teilgenommen und machte einen einjährigen Freiwilligendienst in einem Kindergarten in Deutschland.