"You made this. You are a prisoner to yourself. Not me. You don't love yourself. I love you." S_______ M___ I_ S___ [stonecell] finished by Wolfram Winterfuhr in January 26th 1009. Being suicidal. Is. Sexy. I love some of my ideas, but everybody else seems to hate them. " Ihmiskunta tulisi vain yksiselitteisesti tuomita väärämielisen pahuuden äärimmäisenä ilmentymänä " Goethe didn't get it... An intelligent person finds almost everything ridiculous, a sensitive person hardly anything. 1. The Winterfuhr Idea It is me and it is one thousand and none More letters? I stopped writing them You are not close, so instead I kiss my gun And then... and only then It is the summer one thousand and nine More numbers? Twenty, thirty-one You are very close to me but not mine I did run, you did overrun It is one thousand and seven and the sea wind's blowing Will I get flu and cold, become cold, like you? I'm there, planting a tree, later seeing it growing But how I felt and it just grows, that I couldn't prove It is the past and I am hitting you while drunk And saying stupid things "There. What did I tell you? When romance meets the swords of reason; when you awaken from a beautiful dream... There's cruelty." It is me writing of stupid heart-shaped wings I am painting you sweet The same are to draw and to paint It is the end of summer and we bleed The same is nine as is eight I am there and you aren't there of course Not with everybody I wanted to rot But not everybody dies alone, that is because Not everybody stays this unloved It is one thousand and ten and then We make dead fun of the woods nearby Stupid "then i wept" things again Stupid idea, stupid dear you and even I (December '08) 2. Discarnate Gargoyles "Mutta entä xxxxx?" xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx, xxxxxxxxxxxx oli näkevinään... roskia tämän silmissä. "...xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx: "Oliko se suhde koskaan muuta kuin platoninen." "xxxxxxxxxxx..." "Anna olla." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx, tunsihan hän ystävänsä xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx hänet kauemmas. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. "Anna nyt vaan olla... Olen pahoillani." hän sai sanotuksi, istui xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx paljastivat mitättömän pienet sadepisarat, joista ei jäänyt pian jäljelle muuta kuin aavistus puolen kuun valossa. Pitkä hahmo jäi kadulle yöhön yksinäisyyteensä tajuamatta koko tilannetta, eikä osannut itkeä. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx loppunsa, uusien tarinoitten alku kaikille muille. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. Oliko tämä masennusta? Selitettävissä vain sairaudella? Mikä hänestä oli tullut, xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxx ja niin neuvottomalta mikään ei ollut koskaan tuntunut kuin nyt, joutuessaan kohtaamaan päänsä sisällön. Hänen päänsä, hajosiko se? xxxxx... Ei, xxxxx... Ei... Ketä kohtaan hän todella tunsi, vai tunsiko enää itseäänkään. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx ja lähes sairaalloisen mielihyvän ajatuksesta, että pienellä sormenliikkeellä kaikki olisi paremmin. "xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx, "mutta ei tämäkään, mitä tunnen". (Fragments, whatember '08) I noticed a note next to me. It said "When you wake up, you will regret". And then I woke up. 3. Kill Me If You Want "Yes, but though I'm free and single... here" I point at my forehead, then slowly bring my paw down "...I don't feel free at all..." Sadly I place my hand over my chest "...here..." Over my heart Tosin eläinmaailmassa myötäelämiseen viittaavaa käyttäytymistä on havaittu villiapinoilla, koirilla ja mustavariksilla. (What) "Quid pro quo, leopard." "No." "Always been a thrill seeker, no?" "No." Be still, my beating heart. Very still. Nonono, not good enough. She forced my paws point awkwardly starhigh and I have to admit I dreamt about flying a lot Suicidal mind - Yours - Is sexy. Be very still... (unless you want it to hurt more) Not everyone hates, so I guess not everyone loves, either She was no lover, no enemy to me, but there definitely was some untold spark of a minor paradigm shift in that air Right there "Will you see Chiyoda?" she asked and twisted her pointing hand still further more "No..." I replied, courageously adding "...but I'd like to", cowardly not adding "with you"... We didn't believe in the same heaven. Meant not to get the Pack of Morley expression yet what to expect from a starlight-burnt zashiki-warashi with russet grudge and lots of lots of decemberries for a bitter panacea (better than ibuprofenum). Under Szomorú Vasárnap (where's mine comfortless main title?) I hear "Then... come closer, please (or I might miss)" It was not the staring into the rifle barrel, getting scraped with a tajima, getting raped with a tajima, stealing my sleep, burning my stories nor adding crushed dextro to my cyanide (to make it taste worse), but something most evil I've ever heard. Evil because she said in the way that made me believe (for true it was): "I don't give a fuck if you Love me" I sighed and thought to myself that I never believed in love after death anyway. And still, I did also hear something evil-in-a-very-best-way too from her while she was over me, I overpowered and lying on my stomach, feeling the same rifle pointing at the back of my head, "paws behind your back!" in a lucid dream earlier today. 4. Ephemeral Lives I thought I once loved you right Wrong I was with no love to give I still reason and not let touch blind And this I just said, did you believe? For I lied. For three moons I burnt roses And apologized to no one Two years in hypnosis Madness shared by two, fun shared by only none Dissociation and all gone in a flush Crow sex, equidormex for dissociety Begotten rain, left is mere milk-plus Because "it never meant to be" And the phrase never meant to me. My tiger was made of paper It was a wolf who scared me a lot My heart wounded of love's labour But that's just a paper cut ...Really. Really, really really really not. (Winter 1008 - 1009) 5. That Will Stop Our Hearts Tragic nitrous irony Or bad poetic justice You tell me My sex drive is actually very high but it's not sex high I'm after (I can almost fly when I'm just near you) To be able to stop so many hearts Yet to choose to realize not The keemun tea water's sour and acidic these eves Don't they understand that it is the same rain? When justice's poetic, it's always written awfully And never rhymes But great endings are often sexy (and sex is often ugly) My will to die is actually very high but it's you I'm after As for other endings She was very poetic once, when sex was otherworldly Like from an era that no longer exists She died and then she came to me as a ghost It was the last time I had sex. Yes, it was the last time. Yes, I have had sex with a ghost. And no, no more. I only wanted to be high near you again. The sunset is so pretty. And so far away, just like you. I have never hated love this much I love you right now. My ghost? No... You. It's you I'm talking about, half little wolf shit. She is dead, and though I'm still looking for her, I'm after you. Don't you.. Don't they know, don't they understand what is happening? I curse or kiss and swear that this shall be the last time. Don't they understand that it is the end of the world? (It ended when you stopped saying you'd take anything I'll give) Go be with your loved ones.... Don't you just care or don't you comprehend that the world we still share is about to end... (January '09) 6. Not Everyone Loves i was a wolf, but now defy cat love is worse for sure i know but have no lead just why not everyone loves her i'd pour chianti, kir and korn wet whiskers, lips and that's for all the vicious feline porn not everyone loves cats i make rare whisky of pack ice and everyone approves me drunken get these wonder-whys not everyone loves wolves so many mahjong mask is cruel they speak of death with friends but when it all comes pretty-true not everyone loves ends but i do love and that is why i don't want love to be how lucky her and so am i not everyone loves me she's far, impossible to reach soul sick and failure so hurt but even when she bleeds not everyone loves her (Sowhyme '09) (enkä ymmärrä täysin mikseivät. kiitos hyvistä pienistä hetkistä. minulle ne olivat parhaita. koskaan.) 7. Drawn in Cold Blood I'm staring at the winter sunset. The sky's all shades of light blue and pink and the snow the colour of shadows. Everything's covered in that soft, cold beauty. I just wanted to witness all this with someone on a cliff, us slightly drunk with endorphin and good absinthe to keep us warm, and with death talk to keep us somewhat sane, she drawing an icy painting in cold blood and... and not having to see this from the window of my apartment, alone. I wonder how did I become so sad. How did I let emotions affect me this badly? In some circles I think I have a reputation of a "bad person", as in tough and heartless. Makes me laugh when I think about it, for they should see me cry. They really should, for I don't want to be called "tough", for that's what I'm not. I can act evil, though, and I even enjoy it very verymuch, but I want to be sure it's also what the other wants. I do enjoy blood art and see beauty in violence and melancholy and death, but I am very sensitive. Delicate even. Frail. Easy to get mentally broken. I'd need good retrograde amnesia. Too much of this recently. I can't handle it in my head. I'm the kind of person who just keeps staring at sunrises and sunsets and the shadow-blue snowy trees and drink, because solitude's never suited me. But I've got company... I hug the arctic fox plushie of a dead girl every day. Last night she slept next to me on my mattress. She listens to me and understands, but she never, never hugs back. Getting darker. The blue's getting darker and so are the two-day old scars. A good moment to imagine about things so impossible before I pour myself another havrestout. And yet I realize: Better alone (with the fox or not) than in some random company who wouldn't understand the scars, physical or mental, and have scars of her own as well. 8. (Olit melkein kuin) Puumahlaa Pitipä kirjoittaa kaikki... Jos ei nähdä Valhallassa. Kauan kesti, vaan nyt annan vihdoin olla.