Glance into a restless mind

Marius Block

Glance into a restless mind

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Inhaltsverzeichnis

Titel

Zitat

Glance into a restless mind

Vorwort

1

Impressum neobooks

Zitat

No pressure! – Things will start moving on their own. Be happy!

Glance into a restless mind

Poems inchronologicalorder: 2011 Love & Lose Broken True Friends Distance Shards Weather 2012 Teardrops on my Keyboard Still Fighting Valentine’s Day Mask of Makeup Beauty 2013 Quiet Riot Just Quit! This Life 2014 Mayday Decay 2015 Dawning of Day

Vorwort

This book is dedicated to anyone who cares, anyone who has got feelings and is aware of being careful enough not to hurt somebody else.

You are not going to have the easiest of times on this planet and might have already experienced quite rough ones.

Such times will be coming back – over and over again – but surviving them you are going to make it so much further in life and live way more intensely than every single one of the closed-minded, ignorant non-believers walking around, harassing sentient beings.

1

I grew up in a small town.My early years were rarely spent in the presence of other children my age.Most of the time I was inhaling the content of all the books my parents and grandparents were reading out to me.Especially the relationship to my mother I found extremely important.

She used to shift-work back then and often had to leave exactly at the time when I came home from the kindergarten. I remember myself sitting on the wall of my grandpa’s frontyard every day - still waving into the direction her car had left minutes ago.At the age of three I broke my arm and was forced to spend an unendurably long period of time inside this strange building, called hospital, so far away from the only person that I thought could help me. I have never been quite like anybody else in my surroundings, kindergarten or school, but according to what my family members told me, I still was a happy kid, in my own happy little world.

Later on I noticed, that I wasn’t really able to make contact to human beings of the other sex, who I was interested in.Neither talking, nor writing to those creatures ever seemed to work out as expected.So instead of taking girls out on dates, I took my skateboard out for a ride every day, and for several years it made me happy enough to push my other longings further away.

After I had come home in the dark, I often felt kind of an urge to give something back to the piece of wood that made me feel so whole and alive.If I had not known for sure, that my companion had no feelings at all, I would not only have stared at its contours at night, but would have taken “her” to bed with me.Again, I felt alone in a way, where I had so much love, that I wanted and needed to share with an actual person so badly.A constant struggle of telling myself to wait for the right time to come and not understanding the world around me had started to develop.

At around the age of fifteen I rediscovered my passion for playing music, which I had left resting for a couple of years. A strong force pulled me into the direction of a way more alternative style of music than I have been into before.Combining these two things, I started my first band with a few guys from school. Quickly I realized that our understanding of the style we wanted to play wasn’t really the same.An ever-present potential for conflict, paired with our sheer inability to discuss problems properly, kept us from writing own songs, so that we nearly only performed heavily distorted cover versions of radio hits in front of roughly twenty people that would not have come to our show, watching, listening, if they hadn’t known us well enough to provide that kindness.Despite that, I was still proud of what we did. So I felt frightened by the capability of the other members to tear the whole project apart and destroy my only opportunity to be creative, express myself musically and, for the first time in my life, do something that could possibly impress girls enough to care about me.After less than a year I got kicked out of the band for not sharing the musical taste of two of the other guys and didn’t have much luck finding musicians that shared mine, afterwards. So I simply hung my bass onto the wall and started learning a new instrument to distract myself and to convey that I was still doing something.

I finished school, thinking, that I finally knew, what kind of profession I wanted to get, so I went straight to vocational college and started a four-year-apprenticeship to become a social care worker for the disabled.On my first day I went there scared to death of unfamiliar people and alien situations but glad that I at least had a clear perspective.For three to four weeks I kept sitting alone at my desk and didn’t take the initiative to make contact to all these new classmates.I turned seventeen and slowly began to get interested in the Punk- and Hardcore-scene with all its energetic, love- and peace spreading, alternative thinkers who I had so many parallels with. I had never thought that such ideas existed within any human being I would ever meet in my life.

As I started to feel a bit more comfortable after the first year had passed, one girl from my class asked me to sit next to her during the second one.

We became friends pretty quickly and from that point on it didn’t take long until I hopelessly fell in love with her. She was twenty-one years of age and took that as the absolute only reason for giving me anything but a chance. “Relationships can never work out with the guy being younger than the girl, because girls are at least two years ahead of them for what concerns maturity.” - Kind of bullshit.

It was definitely not the person I fell in love with it was just the factor of when and how we had met, that blew me out.The mixture of unreturned feelings and the certainty that words can have a huge impact, a lot of power and energy, as I had experienced myself while reading all those deeply honest lyrics from the bands I loved, made me want to write a poem for her to possibly make her understand my point of view a little better.Just the title itself shows how thin the line between loving and losing can get, simply because the only difference between these two words is the first letter of her name: “S”. Love & Lose