Sorrows of a Young Man

I made a lot of aquaintances, but no friends to hang around with so far. I don't know what monster some of the people see in me. And then there's other who stick on to me and then it makes me sad when we only hang together for a little while. If you're asking me what the people here are like, I have to tell you... just like they are everywhere else. Humans are one of a kind. Most of the people are working the whole day, and what little is left for spare-time is scaring the hell out of them, so they do everything to get rid of it. Destiny of mankind.

But nice folk, too. If I hang around with them, forgetting myself, joining their little free time left... talking up to them in a restaurant, dancing along with them at night in the club, walking in the park, stuff like that... that's giving me a lot. Just sometimes I need to remind myself of all the energy inside me, the energy I have to hide, unused and trying to get out. Yeah, that's keeping the heart small, I'm telling you. Still, being misunderstood is the fate of guys like me.

Oh, my sweetheart from back then, she's gone away, I pity myself for ever knowing her. What a fool I must have been even wanting to know her. We are looking for the stuff we can't get. But I once had her, I was feeling my heart, my soul in her presence, becoming more, and all it can be, all I could be. Jesus. There wasn't a part of my soul not being put to full use. With her you got the feeling of being one with life and everything. We were weaving a web of subtle connections, fine humor, modifying it endlessly up to the point of sheer genius. Or so I'd like to think. And now? She was older. Those years she was ahead of me put her into depression and her grave much sooner than me. I won't ever forget her... her strong sense of everything and her angel-like patience.

Some days ago I met young Vince, really open-minded, great looks too. He finished studies and thinks of himself as the wisest kid in town. He was really behind university, doing everything, and now he's like this intellectual with the power of knowledge kind of guy. After he got to know that I'm speaking French and know about those beatnik authors he's sticking to me, trying to get all kinds of wisdom out of me. He pretends to understand dada, surrealism, chaos and relativity theory, and all and everything about the Greek. I'll leave him with that feeling.

Then I met this other loyal and truthful old-school gentleman slash corporate guy. They're telling me you should see him around with his family and kids (six kids, can you believe it). And they're saying he got the sweetest daughter, his oldest kid. He even invited me around for dinner. Since his wife died he's living in this palace-like apartment about an hour from here. Living in the city is too painful for him these days.

And then I met a bunch of people, you know, those where their most annoying characteristic is that they try to be friends with you.

Well, that's all for now. This post might become dusty pretty soon.

Some of the people of this town start to like me, especially the kids. It's a bit sad though. At the beginning, when I was walking around and chatting with the folks, asking them about this and that, they thought I'm making fun of them. They seemed a bit annoyed and acted all rude. That didn't stop me. I got this feeling again that you just can't connect to people of a certain kind. They seem to think if they share their life with someone, they're going to lose it. And then there's the funny folk seemingly liking everyone, yet they just pretend for a while how good they get along here and there, only to let their arrogance run down on them even harder next time.

Not that I'm complaining or anything. Some people, you just can't change. And we don't want everyone to be the same, and all-connecting. It's not possible. But let me say that those with fake friends everywhere are just as scared as the loner next door, who's always hiding from his enemies because he's afraid to lose once more.

I was hanging out in the mall again, up in the retro European coffee house thing reading my mags. There was this girl with a new hand-phone standing there next to the fake palm tree, waiting for someone to come along trying to show it off, apparently. I walked up to her from my little spot, mumbled something to her about the phone, and she was like, "What? You know about tech stuff?" I was like "That's easy, no problem", and helped her with getting new sounds and pictures and stuff on it. She was like, cool, thanks, before she went down and out of the place, leaving me to do some more reading. (I tipped the waitress, as I usually do.)

My friend was mailing me, asking if he should send along all my books. Sheesh, keep them away from me! I don't want to be lectured, motivated, taught... my soul's got enough fire on its own these days. What I need are lullabies, which I found glancing through old magazines I bought last weekend on this flee market. You've never seen me as hyper as lately, but those mags keep my blood pressure down. I'm going from sweet melancholy, to stress, back to deep thoughts and weltschmerz again. He never saw me like that. Also, I'm treating my poor heart like a sick kid... every of its will is granted. Don't spread the word, there's people out there who take offense in that attitude.

I've been thinking. I don't know if those are deceitful spirits living in this street and its buildings, or if it's my heart in ecstasy creating all those wonderful day-dreams. It can't be the fast-food junk I'm eating. It's like with this deserted small shopping mall five minutes away. You're going up some steps, and they got this littel fake pond there. All the shops around, the air-con, the plastic trees surrounding that pond... it's all so freaky. Not a day goes by where I won't find myself sitting there. The girls from downtown come by and go shopping for all their... little things, some of them important, some of them not. It's like this old idea of a patriarch society where the men sit around the village well, trying to check out the women, trying to score. If you never experienced this kind of relaxation after a hard day of work, you probably never tried!