midlife-crisis?

okay, some might say i'm a little, just a little too young for a midlife-crisis... but seriously, i'm too old for a quarterlife-crisis, so here we go.

again. "perspectivas" - that bold printed question on my desk...

furthermore:

"you stopped doing what you love for a salary of 27.000 dollar a year... how long did you want to do that job, 'till you get back to doing what you love?" clooney asks.

good question. the character on screen, some 50-something guy, does not know the answer. neither do i, 30 going on 18.

this is not my dying hour, still my life flashes before my eyes...

what i loved, what i loved to do... i don't know. i don't remember. did i ever have a concept of what i wanted to do? alright, i mean: really want to do, not those crazy dreams you have when you're 13 like marrying some famous actor. did i ever have a concept?

i figure the answer is no.

maybe that's why i dropped out of university and got a job. it payed the bills. gave some kind of security where i felt there was none.

yeah, that's the bitch: security.

and today... i check my life's account - and it's out of balance. security - yes. but happiness? i don't know.

alright, seeing your lover go never is setting the picture exactly straight.

but: what is the big picture anyways?

i see none. if you ask me: where do you picture yourself in 5 years? the answer would be: doing the same as i do now. and in 10 years: i don't know. doing the same i do now?

i should feel lucky to have the job i got and the opportunity to do what i like beside that, and i do, true! but...

there's always a but.

is this me in 20 years? sitting in front of a notebook after work, typing some bullshit-diary-entry? wondering where the hell i missed the right exit to "happily ever after"?

and what would that be? what makes you happy?

someone once told me, it probably was a movie: "if you had all the money you'd ever need - what would you do? and that is exactly the thing you should go out and do then..."

yeah, but there's not all the money i'd ever need, and the stuff you like to do doesn't pay too well.

but worse than that: i don't know. what to do.

or maybe i do and it's too late... too late to study, 'cause you know the comfort of security and don't want to live of hartz IV or bafög or are simply too old to work some low-paid shit-shifts beside your studies.

maybe it's fear. i've always been afraid in the dark. if i don't know where i am. and there's just no morning-star guiding the way.

except for that bullshit-question: if you would die right know - did you do all you could?

damn, i wrote a text about that... and still don't know.

what i want to do?

sleep long.
work out.
give workshops.
love.
write a little.
perform.
smile because of you.
love.
do yoga.
walk at the beach.
have my neck kissed.
love.
be with my friends.
all in one place!
love.
cook.
eat.
drink.
laugh.
love.
publish a kick-ass novel.
or play.
laugh at it and say:
"well... you know..."
love.
get married some sunny day.
some sunny place.
grow old.
singing songs.
love.
laugh.
at my grand children.
who recite my poetry.
and i tell them:
"well... don't take my word for it..."
laugh at my husband.
who laughs with me.
love.
die.
holding his hand.
rest.
in peace.

now, someone tell me: where does the money come from in this concept?

yeah.

"perspectivas"

i should trash that stupid brochure laying on my desk...