November 24, 2025 :: 22:18:51 :: Little leopard on the swing
“Actually, can you stay standing?” The dermatologist’s assistant is going to take the stitches out of my hip. I like this person, because she pronounces my last name right and recognizes me when I come in the door. Pfk, pfk, pfk, the stitches come out so easily, she just yanks at them and they break out of the skin. Frankenstein hip is no more, now I can finally roll around and around (i.e. lay on my right side) to fall asleep again. And I can visit Voluptua! Pfk, spllgfh, “Oops!” One stitch got a little greedy on its way out and now there’s a bright red button of blood, like a wet ghost where the birthmark used to be. I keep watching...
Dr. Lovely stabbed me with a needle and gave me my B12 last night. I had gone to visit him + Everie + Onesie + my boyfriend. Everie and Onesie are preparing a big show, which is why they’re in Cologne. I had brought my paraphernalia with me: the B12 ampoules and all my needles and syringes. Dr. Lovely’s inspection revealed that I had everything I needed—when I had visited V, I had only brought the comically long and large needles, which are supposed to suck up the B12. Dr. Lovely showed me how to do it and it was so unbelievably easy and painless. I watched him do it the whole time. It was much less freaky than I thought.
But now I’m in the dermatologist’s office, running off of five hours of sleep and the calories of one single cookie. Hmmm... I’m staring out the window, amazed at how gray the room and windowframe and sky outside all are. That’s when the dermatologist comes in, hello, hello :), and puts a bandage on the bloody crusty smear where a unique and beautiful birthmark once proudly stood. Its renowned asymmetry was a symbol of its steadfastness, its ventures into the third dimension a sign of its aspirations to achieve. And for these virtues it was condemned to death. “Everything came back fine with your birthmark, have a nice day.” Thanksssss, you too :) hehehe
I go into the drugstore to get the special lotion they recommended to me, and it happens again. I fall into my special world. Who am I, why am I here? What am I supposed to get? Everything is colorful, everything smells like something. Watermelon sparkle shampoo, oh my. Two gay men are arguing with each other right next to me. Two ladies gossiping or is that…? Ointment, ointment, that’s what I need! What a horrible word in English! And in German: Wundsalbe, Heilsalbe if you like, damn, why not even Wund- UND Heilsalbe? Who am I and what am I doing here? Oh, I haven’t eaten anything today.
These last few days I’m doing intermittent fasting except on accident. I wait until I get to the library in Kalk to open my crinkly bag of LBG (Lidl Baked Goods. Lyndon B. Gohnson?) … Crappy grocery store coffee in hand, mood very good for some reason, God I’m so confused though, I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing here. Sauerkraut, need to buy sauerkraut
I waste about three hours reading about vitamin B12. It ruins my mood and I try really hard to pull it together. I listen to the same song on loop and it motivates me to write a whole lot. Music can have such interesting effects on the psyche. The whole time I’m so confused, who am I, what am I doing here? I try to look away from my laptop… NO! Mama let’s focus. Mama let’s research!! Mama let’s write, please, God, let’s fucking write! I force myself to look at my .docx and, yes, I get it, I get it! I remember what I was writing about.
At some point I decide I’m done for the day and close my laptop. What the hell!? I’m the only person older than 16 years old in this whole library. I was so lost in my special world I didn’t notice that school was out. I take the metro home and get off at the stop right across from Aldi. Wait, yes, I need sauerkraut, I need to buy sauerkraut. I walk into the Aldi and it happens again. My legs are heavy, someone is tugging on the string again and pulling my head down, who am I, what am I doing here? I have to breathe… Yes, I get it, I get it! My name is Tigerlily, my mission is dinner, I’m here to find… Sauerkraut… Sauerkraut… Sauerkraut, aaand breathe out… Sauerkraut…
Everything is so confusing. OMFG, Gingerbread, no you didn’t, rice pudding for only forty eurocents, IJBOL!!!!! I’m so confused... I know who I am but I don’t know how to find what I’m looking for. I look around, I remember I’m in the Aldi in Aachener Straße and that soon I’ll be able to eat and chat with my roommates. A jar! Sauerkraut is in jars – yes, and already I’m heading there to the correct aisle, and I’ll be free and I can eat and breathe and drink tea and not be confused anymore, sauerkraut, canned goods, I don’t want to be so confused all the time, but in the end I get it, I get it!
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November 23, 2025 :: 16:19:53 :: Clinically proven effectiveness
I get the appeal, now, I understand a little better why apes and gorillas and other primates sit around and pick the bugs out of each other. It’s quite soothing, in a way. Naked as a jaybird in the bathroom, cold as fuck, it’s finally winter, nit comb going up and down my legs, it’s fun, kind of like a quarter of a hug. A fifth of a hug. Cold, slimy, insecticide all over my body and reeking, no one touch me, or do it anyway, feel the burn of my chrysanthemum juice!
A lot of primates get their B12 from eating the bugs they pick out of their colleagues’ hair. I receive a flashbulb vision of some other life visits me: me, a filthy sort-of-vegetarian with fatigue, professional delouser. I secretly break my commitment to my plant-based lifestyle to nibble at the bugs I take out of my clients’ hair, wait, no, what the fuck, that’s disgusting. And apes eat dirt, apes eat shit and poo, too, at least according to the vegetarian propaganda website. They recommend 50 mcg/day or 2000 mcg/week. I’ve thought about just eating sardines more often. Delicious, oily (for the vitamin D intake), lovely shades of green. It sounds so easy. Why did my doctor give me scary giant needles?
I was at Davis and V’s house a couple days ago. I came in, I felt guilty and awkward for not having stayed in better touch or being more proactive about making plans. They asked how I was doing – the decisive moment – do I lie or beat around the bush or what? Something weird and incoherent mumbles its way out of my mouth and the idea comes across that I’m “doing just fine.” How’re y’all? Except in German. Wie geht’s euch denn so?
That day I had brought my contraband with me, the 10 ampoules of rusty colored B12, the different needles and syringes. Epic. V freaked out. He had been more than ready to show me how to shoot myself up, but something wasn’t right – something about the needles being too big even for an intramuscular shot, having to reuse them. I gave up! I bought the generic B12 from German CVS. Way back when, after the doctor gave me an injection [quite suddenly and unprompted, lift your shirt up!] I felt a little normal for the next two weeks. Then I started falling down onto the floor and being confused and getting headaches behind my eyes after eight hours of sleep again.
I fear I might just be sick in the head. This is what everyone says, if it’s B12 it’s probably only part of the problem, do you see how badly you’re doing? Yes, in the end everything will come back to my mental health. When I see a louse on my body, I think: Maybe I should bring this up to my therapist. I often think I should talk to everyone about it a bit more. My mental state, not the lice. Well, maybe both.
I had visited Davis and V because I wanted to see them one-on-two before their birthday party last night. All day I was stressed and frustrated, we still didn’t have a gift, I was up until 3am learning how to use a nit comb, I was afraid of going to the party and having to dance and talk to people and of what might happen if I couldn’t take it again, and of the stress, and of the days of exhaustion afterwards, and and and. I managed to open the door for my boyfriend when he made it home. I had the feeling that I couldn’t walk or move. My head hung down as if it were attached to some string that went down through the floorboards into Hell and some kid kept yanking on it. Teeney was concerned. We talked about whether it actually made sense for me to go to the party.
I have commitments to my friends and myself that I’m simply unable to fulfill anymore. As I texted with my dad today, I felt like I’d been hit over the head with a very dull object. Everything was a little blurry, rushing past. I fell asleep on the floor again, a bit classier this time, on the air mattress. My dad called me, luckily when I was awake again. My glasses were off and everything was a little blurry, but I could still see that it was snowing big fat wet flakes, so joyful and weightless.
Eventually I admitted that I was sick. I texted Davis and V that I wouldn’t make it. The party had already started. Teeney and I got some records for Davis, we came back home and watched a movie sitting on the floor, not TOO MUCH cuddling, just to be safe. Then he left to go to the party himself. He kissed me goodbye and I was on my own again.
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Nov 17, 2025 :: --:--:-- :: My secret world of esoteric mystery
When the end of the day comes and my boyfriend kisses me goodbye, I turn around and slip back into my secret world. It’s a secret because people usually can’t see it, and I don’t know how to talk about. If you saw me while I was in my secret world, you would just see me sitting at a laptop in the library or lying in bed in the morning. I don’t know what’s happening in my secret world. It feels like a lot. Everything is so bright in my secret world. There are sounds coming from everywhere, images and memories and feelings. Just one word, just write one word, just write one sentence of the cover letter, come on! Motherfucker! I don’t know where I am. I’m trying to get home, I’m in Aldi, looking for sauerkraut, I don’t know where I am. I’m making the wrong decisions, I’m gonna get kicked out, I’m in an Aldi, but I don’t know where I am or what’s happening, when do I see the Vegetarian Chef again? I just need one song, I just need some music, then I can wiggle my big toe, count down, get out of the loft bed and back into the world. Just one song, a favorite song, just some music.
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October 9, 2025 :: 11:26:39 :: To dream in the silvery moonlight
Music can have such interesting effects on the psyche. When I hear this song, it reminds me how I don’t want to spend time rotting in my room, and how I want to have hobbies and friends and a full life and a good relationship with myself. I cram the day with meaningless activities because it’s too painful to sit with my thoughts.
I jump out of my chair and away from the laptop. In one fluid motion I take down my very tragic excuse for a curtain (it is, in fact, a ********) and open the window.
Outside it’s as gray and friendly as ever. A wasp is sitting on the outside windowsill, the small and dainty kind that likes to fly directly into your face or get stuck in the sugar containers at cafés. It sits there for a while wiggling its butt, one little yellow dot amidst the gray of the sky and the brown-rust-red of the bricks of my neighbors’ balconies. And then it flew away.
I’m making an origami amulet with instructions inside on what to do when I have a scary thought. For context, I’ve had this idea for five years already. Sometimes it takes a while for it to surface up from the dark water of your brain and become real.
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October 6, 2025 :: 22:53:43 :: Waiting for something oily
Every morning when I wake up, I have a feeling like I’m surfacing up from a pool of dark water. The consciousness comes back to me slowly. First, I remember I’m a person, then I remember I have things to do. Then I feel my neck and wrists aching and I remember I have a body. Sometimes when my eyes open everything is blurry and smeared as if I really were underwater. The world outside my window is gray and calm. I look down from the loft bed and see all the friendly and familiar things in my room—the old rug, the new rug, the colorful books on the shelf, the messy desk covered with papers. It gets harder and harder to crawl down the ladder and out of bed, I feel like I’m made of cement. My trick is to count down from ten, and hitting zero is enough to motivate me to prop myself up on my right side, and that’s enough to motivate me to get out of bed.
Now the world has officially cooled down. The skies are gray and drizzling almost every day. The baby geese and ducks are all grown up and hanging out with their families. Over the weekend the sun officially started setting around 7 PM. People complain about the winter because it’s cold and dreary and dark, and the fall is just the drawn-out colorful-leaved introduction to the winter. I’ve always been partial to overcast days, though. And I like the feeling when I’m bundled up in a jacket and sweater and moving somewhere, especially on a bike. The cold part of the year is full of so many secret pleasures—including vitamin D. It’s a fat-soluble vitamin and thus the perfect excuse to eat something oily before you glurk the little yellow pill down. I could just take the pill every morning with my muesli but instead I wait every day anticipating the oily something that will cross my path. Today it was lentil chips.
Today was my first day trying to get into a productive lifestyle. I have again fallen into a black hole devoid of the spoken word. I let two kids into the library because the doors wouldn’t open and the apologized for bothering me. But otherwise I was just left with my thoughts. That gets exhausting very quickly. I wonder what it’s like for other people when they sit in the library all day. The stylish and perfumed law students in the uni library seem to be quite spirited and focused. For me the future is a very bright light and I have to force myself to look at it, every day, but from the outside anyone would just see me sitting at a desk. I often think it shouldn’t be so hard. Every day just takes immense effort to get through for me, because of psychological reasons that are extremely unpleasant to explain in detail.
After I got the lentil chips and my ABG (Aldi Baked Goods), I walked through the park and asked myself what “giving up” would actually look like. I think it would be something like letting myself lie there in the morning, not getting up, just being the cement man for a while longer and ignoring the daily cycle where I try and fail and try and fail. I could have one day where the goal is to listen to a good song, or find a really pretty leaf, maybe, then I could come home patting myself on the back. I would write paragraphs about the different colors on the trees instead of how tired I am. But if it’s a decision between finding a pretty leaf [painless] or sending off two applications [painful], I think I still have to choose the applications.