hyped.

it's sunday night, and me, i'm hyped.
like: totally.



i'm drinking cabernet sauvignon merlot from south africa in an effort to calm me down.
it's nice, this cheapo 5€ a bottle wine. it's most definitely been chipped, but who cares. i want to feel that barrique between my teeth, no matter how, and i do, with this one. if i still smoked, i'd be very much longing for some moods cigarillos now, and for some deep kissing, too.

but i don't smoke anymore. and there's no one around for any deep-kissing. unless i'd want to be next in line with thomas, the med-school freshman, and i'm not feeling like that today. at all.

to complete the scene: i'm listening to the playlist of a cd i burned last week, a cd now playing in paris, france, and i'm humming along to sepia playing "tuvalu". you can hear thomas's lisp, and it's cute.

it was a strange weekend, this one.
my mind-set right now is stranger, still.

saturday night turned out to be rather disastrous.
it was supposed to be a couply-hanging-out-at-home-kinda-saturday-night with that bottle of cabernet sauvignon merlot that i'm drinking right now and enjoying the company of pierre cosso on the telly, followed by things couples do on weekend.
yes, i know "la boum". so uncool. but i love it. shoot me, then. i never claimed that i was cool.

the first few hours were fine.
we went grocery shopping (great photo op, that), walked through the city, had dinner. halfway into the wine and the first movie, however, dirk got extremely restless, whined for an hour, and then went home.

so much for spending saturday night in company.
it was alright, this, really. if he's restless he should rather hang out at his place than mine, do something that makes him feel better, and not ruin my mood. which he unfortunately did though, by whining and being undecided for almost an hour before heading off.
it was frustrating, this. no fun, no. even pierre cosso couldn't lift me up after this.

i slept poorly, and dreamt strangely, about thorsten and meeting him, and it was pleasurably strange, that dream. it involved emails, and cameras and the pope, too.
meeting thorsten in my dream was wonderful, he looked great, didn't do his usual be-my-audience-routine, and as i realised that i was waking up, i very much wanted to dream on. dreamer.
i should get in touch with petro again: lucid dreaming would come in so handy in a dream like last nights'.

today passed by quickly.
slept late, got the kuschel-sonntagszeitung, had breakfast, got narcisstic with the camera, wrote.
a little later, dirk came over, wanting to make up, and we did, somewhat, somehow.

we ventured the 200m to the main street where the idiots were out and about, celebrating fasnet, rattling their rattles and ringing their bells and pretending to be having fun.
appalling, this, but fun in its weirdness, too.



i like the pagan element in fasnet: scaring winter away.
the rest of it sucks though, especially down here. if you need 5 days in february to let out the inner you while drinking beer and wearing a wooden mask (so that you can grab butts decades younger than yours whenever you feel like it), you're doing something wrong the other 360 days of the year.

after about an hour watching the crowds and having beer, we headed over to the cathedral, and spend hours taking photos, sitting in the sun (up on that floor right under the spire) and drinking tea.

manogamo at flickr had asked whether i could take some shots of the gargoyles at the cathedral one day, and this was the excursion to get that done. - now i just need to find a way to crop the photos and put them together so that they'll be presentable. - not easy to make things hanging from walls look exciting.
but it was great, this:
i could finally channel all that nervous artistic energy i'd had for the past days. the results were satisfying, yes, and the process was oh. so. very. enjoyable.
am quite pleased with the results, too.

it's also good to be using someone else's camera.
i've come to so many realisations today as to what i expect from a digital camera, mainly by realising what the shortcomings of dieter's were. yes, i keep whining about wanting a d70, but truth be told, i just won't be able to afford one (or any other slr) for at least another year, so i need an interim camera, one that's extremely portable and does things the way i want them done. one step closer to being able to define just what i want exactly.

anyway.

so if today was so relaxing, full of channeling artistic energy and listening to music and drinking wine, why am i still so hyped?

it's all this communication.

really, it's making the hairs on my arms stand up, this.
sharing ideas. communicating. as simple as that.
i'd almost lost interest in the internet and in writing completely, and now it's back, and i'm just now starting to grasp how much this is me. this writing. this photo-narcissm. this everything.
i've missed interacting with people via this medium so much, and now it's coming to me from every direction, just like that, toppling me over with its intensity and sincerity and fun.
and it's mind-blowing. and funny. and just wonderful. and making me oh-so-totally-non-cool.

i wonder where this will lead, eventually.

i've got this odd feeling in my stomach because of it all.
now just what exactly are you trying to tell me, subconscious?

i don't get you, yet.
for now, i'll write another email. and finish that wine.