words as photographs

Everything is dead silent. I'm still here trying to survive this crap. I think I've adapted to being home faster than the last time. It helps to walk into town. Anna is on holidays with her friend. As I expected, communication has dropped to minimal, rushed and of not very good quality. This time I am not banking on it for comfort, so I don't feel unsupported. But it is off-putting and creates some resentment. The work I intended to do yesterday has gone nowhere. The lack of stimuli, the discomfort of the place I am working in, the lack of contact with other people, these things make me medicate with Internet. I just lose myself in the digital world with absolutely useless bullshit. I have to escape these conditions, because I don't have enough willpower to turn it around. I have to be smarter and partner up with stimulating people so I stay motivated and on point. I'm not big into New Year's resolutions but next year I do need to follow through with a d...

I missed the last two days I was supposed to write here. What happened? I feel the typical thing happened. I start to get results and instead of doubling down and keep being successful at them, I start to lose focus and do things that bring me back closer to where I were. Almost as if mediocrity is this gravitational centre in my life that I keep feeling dragged back into. It's actually not like that. I keep recognising progress. But I am tackling, as per usual, too many fronts at once. In some of them I eventually lose ground due to lack of energy to sustain so much effort. But overall I feel I keep growing or expanding. It also didn't help that I had to fly home. It really throws me off, and caused me to make lots of packing mistakes. It doesn't feel like the dust has settled. in one week we'll be celebrating NYE, and from there flying off to Miami for one more edition of 70K. So I have this nervous energy about me. There's too much to do, not enough tim...

He is riddled with anxiety. He read an article online on how addressing himself in the third person can be useful to increase wisdom. At first instance, it feels incredibly weird, as if his life and his feelings weren't his own. Depersonalised.  But he'll give it a shot for at least one month. Can't hurt. Back to work. Yesterday he was going on about losing momentum and feeling like procrastinating a lot. He tried the following in the morning: work without music finish a task, or work for one straight hour, whatever came next walk and stretch at the end of each of these exercises This he attempted in the mourning, after journaling and it was effective. Then he went for lunch. That broke his stride. Just before lunch, in the small free time he had, he started looking into family pictures as part of a Christmas project. When he came back from lunch, he worked the pictures he selected, editing them. This threw him off, and getting back to work took much longer. At...

Here it is. Here I go again. Yesterday I procrastinated a lot. I was under slept and tired, and working by myself demands a clear head. There's no group energy I can tap into. I must generate all the momentum by myself. Today I am a little more rested. But because I failed to build momentum yesterday, today is also very slow to start. I feel lazy and despondent. I'm not concentrating easily. I am avoiding thinking of what I want to achieve today. I feel I have no energy to be what I want to be. So I must aim a little lower. I do need to stay engaged the whole work day. I'm particularly vulnerable to getting lost in distractions. I feel I don't have the necessary energy to sustain the whole work day. And I can't cut it short to rest. I can't go for quick restorative naps. I will try the following: work without music. Try to finish a task, or work for one straight hour, whatever ends first. I will get up and walk around at the end of each of these stretc...

Good morning. This is a very slow start to the week. The weekend was spent in Prague celebrating Anna's birthday. It was wild and fun and packed. Best friends joining up together for another congregation in Winter to keep the darkness away. But the going and returning take their toll. The drive is long, the weather wasn't kind, and here we are back from it, under slept, stiff and attempting to navigate this last full week together the best we can. We're so happy together. I keep thinking about 2019 and how it shook up to be one of the most profoundly transforming years of my life. A lot of personal, emotional dimensions matured and culminated in this year of accelerated growth. How I view myself as an individual and where I am in life. How I view myself as a partner. How I view my mother, and how I view myself as a son. Where do I want to live. How do I want to grow. What do I want to take away from life. What do I want to take away from life. This last one. T...

Friday the 13th. People say it's a day for bad luck. I feel pretty good myself. Having adopted regular exercise, better task prioritisation and a more relaxed attitude, I've managed to bring myself to a happier place. This all goes in tandem with being so happy with Anna. Being with her infuses me with a great golden energy, which in turn I channel to take the necessary actions to better my condition, which in turn improves the quality of the time I spend with her. It is most definitely a virtuous cycle. Onwards to more pragmatic thoughts. Yesterday I managed to be more productive than I have been in weeks, if not months. I managed to concentrate deeply in the work, and meet the objectives, albeit small, that I have set to myself. Speaking of the objectives. There's always this looming pressure that I'm not doing enough, being good enough, proactive enough. If I take it full on, it is paralysing. By putting some effort into viewing myself as a little less capabl...

I'm back. And what to talk about? This is yet another experiment in order to get me going. To get me motivated. I have ten minutes to write about the fuck I want. I plan to do this every weekday, before work starts. Hopefully, the pressure to be engaged will unlock my mind from the stupor caused by my demotivation. This has been going for a long time. I thought at first to start a new blog, detailing the pivoting of my life onwards to a different career track. Nowadays  I'm not so sure. Again I feel like I'm down a path that's hard to step away from. I have to follow through and live out my choices, and make better on them. I'm very demotivated with work. It feels very lonely, very boring, very lacking. I've resolved the problems I could resolve and the deficiencies I know find are touching points about myself I can't really change. Or don't want to. I don't want to be the person grabbing others for attention. I like to be doing my own thing ...

I feel abandoned, alienated and unsupported. I don't complain nor ask for emotional comfort. It is something that is very difficult for me to gauge, accept or process. It always feels abusive, as if I'm using my pain to draw others' attention. Therapy that has always worked has been distracting myself long enough for the pain to subside, writing about it, or a mix of both. Me breaking down in front of others is scary and pathetic. However, unless I start moving towards that direction, I'll always be afraid of it.

Crows caw in the distance. The sky is of a bright, cloudless blue. In it, a blazing star blasts the landscape with searing heat and blinding light. It's midday. No hint of shade to be seen. Sun-stricken he walks forward. His armour threatens to boil through his skin. Gleaming, enamelled plate that he got from his parents. A legacy that did him well in his many years of campaigning. That he can't just get rid of. Bloodied, dented and unbroken. A little like him, he observes. He could use a drink. He feels for his wine-sack, and it's a little lighter than he'd like. Still a lot of way left to walk. In his mind, the memory of her kiss. Her parting lips summon a shiver to his spine and a memory of a heat far greater than the one now threatening him with unconsciousness. He adjusts his grip on his bag, swallows dryly, and focuses on thoughts of her green. Out of the desert and into her green eyes. A hot wind blows at his tanned face, heat waves shimmering off his armour. Out...

my skin erupts in sparks when she whispers in my ear a challenge issued and the chase is on my tongue like fire ravaging her skin she's wet desire in my hands I'm hard possession in hers snuck inside her alcove but not patient enough to hold still following instead a primal call to accelerate and penetrate rupture and puncture again and again our bodies crushing against each other and I'm crashing into her I'm crashing into her God help me I can't stop crashing into her I don't want to stop I'm sinking I'm smiling and I'm sinking deeper deeper going under

I wanna hold you in a cage of arms and kisses. Pressed deeply against my chest, my foot sliding on yours, your head nested in my shoulder. I fall asleep to the faint smell of you in your t-shirt and joy engraved in my mind. Sleep takes over and I dream of us at the start, laying in the morning sun, somewhere off a coast in the Caribbean.

Infused and suffused with dark vibrancy Ol' Camden town agitates and invigorates Our creed, our tribe, our family Many are degenerates, some are tourists, A few innocent still, but truly only one Is dead set to make you feel The same one to slam and rock Thrash and throw in the pit Only to then take you down And in fiery emeralds lit Burn in ol' Camden town

24 hours...a bit more or less Until my head rests on your chest Anticipation, how sweet you are You last so long, and go so far Those seconds with you So precious and cherished Will be gone too fast... So just grip and grasp Those golden colors And stop the time, in 24 hours - by Anna Reichel .

in the big screen colours dash and explosions this and heroes that and all that's missing is catching your look of wonder at something cool as the reflection of the film plays off of your face in the dark

I slip in between the green of your home. A gold morning light in a cloudless sky gives presence to my essence. My mind is where my body is not. Between breakfast and the rush out of the door, teasing you again.

tired muscles and heavy lids try to drag me away to sleep. the company and laughter of friends is but a shy balm to this dull ache. I go back a day, or maybe four, or maybe something in between. I'm there and I barely remember what was before. I can hardly see what's next. It's you and me, riding up that hill. You and me, smiling happy. You and me, looking through the cracks, brave enough to see a world outside our heads, brave enough to take the necessary steps and shake the foundations of our lives hard enough so that we keep finding our paths into each other. It's your warm body against mine riding Joan. It's a kiss under three blooming trees. It's naked bodies in warm Spring nights holding each other weightless, timeless . It's Arabic fire. It's a glass of wine in the rocks. It was but only a weekend. I want more.

on the brink of meeting you again excitement is difficult to contain with heavy load I ride out to show what's all about this land of mine this love of mine let's ride!

Through the flames, through the fire Through time, and then through space Carry your green to me Let me once again fall in it And feel myself disperse and coalesce Like I did that night in the bar in the boat Like I did that morning in Prague Like I did that afternoon in Ulm Like I keep doing it Run and rediscover.

shafts of light illuminate your home as you wake from a peaceful sleep. there's some waiting still left to do, but as the smell of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air, you smile knowing this last stretch is easy. at the end of it your scoundrel awaits smiling with fiery browns, keen to take you on adventure towards an oasis of existence, a celebration of Spring. you smile more, eager to enjoy the day, these last curious hours

Safe and sound I'm home But only with you Can I claim I'm where I belong

a last grain of sand then a moment stopped the beat intensifies still and under my fingertips I feel your heart beating I break the hourglass and make us timeless

the air is hot and humid there's a faint smell of salt water and the droning distant sound of the sea you're sitting naked next to me opposite me, so we face eachother over white sheets soaked with sweat reeking of sex my hands on your thighs my fingers wet with your juice on your face a post orgasmic bliss on mine a self satisfied smirk as my fingers continue to relentlessly give you what you whispered to me before more

on and on we go hotshot trailblazer follow me and you'll agree it's a thing of wonder sharptongue deepeyes follow me and you'll be bathed in golden light sweetsmile bigheart follow me and you'll free your joy into me biglove incarnate follow me and you'll see I'm the one chasing you on and on we go

It's ok. I give in to it. I let the gray soak me to my bones. It's ok. The ache gives it a sharper definition. Urgency and vitality. I breathe in your faint smell in your t-shirt, one, two times before falling asleep. Making way for dreams of loving smiles and deep sighs. Memories, sounds of kisses, touches of skin, warmth of touch, smoothness of skin. Green, fiery morning stars. My spirit is sore from all the jumping and stretching inside my rib cage. I smile for it. Because of it. With it. Light and dark. Yin and Yang. It's one day less.

you and I made up a magical moment of desire and love exchanged over ones and zeros and now looking at my bed it's again bitter sweetness for that one high I just had with you does zero to fill the Anna shaped space next to me

it sizzles, the remembrance of your naked ass walking away and I knowing you'll come back packing a wonderful something maybe a kiss? maybe a dance? maybe a trick? a fuse that burns so fast the green spark that blinds me pull you down close to me spin and twist and bite your lip smile into your eyes and slide my fingers inside you searching, slipping, touching, tantalising, heating you up wetting you down on me, all on me and under I go and stay and out and in I go again and out and in I go again screwing tighter, out and in I go again your breath heavier fanning my cinders making them glow red hot inside you feeling a wonderful something so that I grab and pull your hair lock and rock your body grind and grind to climax a little deaf light ahead and down and under we go and stay there afloat in oneness for an ethereal eternity

in the middle of the Mediterranean my love sleeps now and I look to the sea in front of me and wonder not without some insanity how hard is it to build a raft? so I reconsider and ask how hard is it to build a sail boat? and how hard is it to sail it well? certain, so certain that with time moving this slowly I'd easily build and learn and learn and build and captain my ship from here to her in the dark of night slip us away in the rocking of waves under a waning gibbous moon both smiling all embracing we again would be perfect together

What to say, so drunk, so tired, so early in the morning That all this fun And all this revelry Has had in it the shape of you I miss how you feel next to me Not only in space, but in time The joy of nights like these Pale in comparison with Falling to slumber holding You saudades tuas

want that sass and want that kiss   and stagger through this land want to sway with you   and search this city want to once again grab that green spark   and feel it struggling to leap out of my chest, hard and acute want that naked body pressed against me   and know you're not here yet want the chance to make you laugh   and suffer the absence want those fingers interlaced with mine   and ache in the distance want to throw you in bed  and remember your presence want to fall asleep  and bear the whole of shadow want to feel you  and here in the dark, now

I sit in a plane with Portugal ahead and you behind. I try to draw a smile, but the lines come in faint, the teeth don't really show, the eyes don't really shine. The longing has come to roost and it weighs my features down, slows my steps, lowers my shoulders. Then... I look only but a little deeper and already I can see the golden glow. The memory of your slightly-embarrassed-but-not-really smile, your laughter rolling under me as I hover over you in bed, the touch of your hair in my skin, your taste and your scent and your warmth. Your head in my shoulder. Fuck, it's a difficult Thing to snap out of. It's a price I gladly pay. There's a little sadness to my eyes, but the smile now is genuine. It's the best pain to have. tenho saudades tuas

On and on she rides And rides me hard Borderless Boundless Bottomless Colourful Flavourful Love full On and on we go

It's simple, you see? My woman is friendly. My woman is fun. My woman is happy. My woman is loyal. My woman is strong. My woman is funny. My woman is dead pretty. My woman is deadlier sexy. My woman is adventurous. My woman is curious. My woman is smart. My woman has teeth that bite. My woman has heart that screams. My woman has eyes that hold me still. My woman has me holding. My woman has me living. My woman has me loving. My woman has me. My woman has me. My woman has me. Thrice said. Thrice true. My woman. It's simple you see? My woman's name is Anna Reichel.

My chest is jet engine loud My throat roars with excitement Like a screeching celestial body So aware and full of feeling I fall into you And although I sense You bracing for impact Geared for necessary division There's no escaping I fall into you Oh Mulher Tremenda

words are made defiant facing oh so much excitement so he'll keep it short and he'll keep it nice he'll keep her close bring her paradise he'll kiss her tight and fell her heat eyes alight unison hearts beat

her naked hands (saudade) holding his hopeful heart (saudade) fueling a fiery engine (saudade) bearing his burning desire (saudade) of her great golden smile

tick tock with dangerous charm tick tock I hold you by the arm tick tock and light as a feather tick tock we sway together tick tock in the dark of night tick tock lovers hearts alight

en garde, I hear someone say as I see your wolfish smile glint from behind the face guard. floret raised, you wait for me to lunge. I smile back and grip the handle of my weapons. I refused the high class of sword play, and instead opted for the worksman tools. the axe that splits the logs. the dagger that skins the deer. it's the lady and the woodsman here. I take a step.

a smile nested in a secret question. goosebumps. a rising wave of energy. a city of legend in the night, of writers and drunks. I swallow the amber and remember one smile of yours that put me right hard in groin, rumbling softness in the chest. Primavera and then a dullness, a longing and a soreness. one day less and it's still so long. it's just me and the hauntings before sleep tides me over. for now I whisper to the pillow, light on my right shoulder

I breathe in  missing you I breathe out  teasing you I remember the taste of your lips  kissing you I burn at the memory of  holding you Your smell in my mouth  eating you Your eyes holding mine  loving you

he's home, but only for a moment. he rises (rises) into the air, spins so that his stomach faces the sun. saltwater glistens from his chest as he smiles at the apex of his bound, just before turning another half turn and landing ready to pursue you with singularity of purpose. you are away, intent on good times at a still parade. time goes by, still like.

something remains hidden. I see it, sometimes taste it, rarely but most especially, feel it burning in my face. but you take it away, hide it behind provocations and dangerous eyes above lascivious smiles. the hunt continues.

one foot in comfort, the other in strangeness. the undertow threatens to slam me against the shores of this new found land, but I stand ready-steady. I look into the green and while lost there, I try to reconcile how something so new can at times feel so familiar. the smile almost hurts. almost. the sass.

EM THIW EMOC IT ROP ODRA AJGF

two weeks later and I'm flying again, jumping cities to get to you. drowsy I look down the window. it's daytime, but the experience reminds me of Prague at night. of descending into a mysterious weekend, all nerves and excitement. I feel the same. walking down the Parque Del Buen Retiro, missing you and feeling connected to everything, dragging such a profound sense of contentment, the near reality seems to warp around me a carpet of clouds covers Düsseldorf. we begin descent, I feel it in my ears. diving and dying a little, to fall again inside those dangerous eyes. no more distance. I'm here.

You're still in the meadow, still smiling. I'm standing in front of You, but I'm carrying a serious countenance, heart all roar and thunder. with Your eyes You ask Me what's wrong. I point to my chest. in it You see a million colours contorting with themselves, struggling to form something clear. But as soon as You start glimpsing a definitive figure, they change again. You smile intrigued and look Me dead in the eye. we stay like this for what feels like two, maybe three eternities. the colours quieten and coalesce into an arrow shaped figure, pointing to You. I follow it, hungry for You, hungry for You, Anna.

winter fades before a late March sun. thick clouds in heavy skies have dissipated to small puffs of white in a perfect blue sky. you're sitting in a meadow, smiling that big smile of yours topped by brightly lit, fiery emeralds. ideas and plans spinning in your head, I can almost hear them clicking into place. I look at you from a distance, and smile and let go whatever I'm holding, and start walking to you, steps accelerating to the beat of my heart.

the crisp morning air caresses her face. in the pit of her stomach there's a duel between nervousness and excitement. she's ready to step forward and shine brightly, unleashing all that preparation like so many arrows being fired by the Huntress. sharp, she smiles, eager to get it done and done well. in the distance she sees smoke, she knows her scoundrel is up to no good, setting fire at the edges of what she sees. she'll get to him soon enough. after. now she smiles more and the room is lit.

when we talk we subtract time, when we flirt we subtract inhibition, when we plan we subtract distance so that when we meet we add colour, when we touch we add charge, when we kiss we add bliss

I eat You swallow I ravage You rake I lust You take I hunger You feed I rock You roll I push You pull I bounce You throw I pump You get I lose You give I gain You exhaust I burn You glow I freeze You moan I scream You smile We come again We start again

my exhausted body remembers yours and there's an ache and an yearning. my eyes seek the green where they swam and there's longing. my mouth begins to whisper to you but there's silence. and yet, this Anna shaped space is suffused with a tremendous energy, a seemingly perpetual motion inside a golden bliss

cool tiled floor under naked feet and you can't see my fingers brushing your skin ever so slightly as my lips almost touch the side of your ear sensing me moving away so that in the distance anticipation wells up in the pit of your stomach as I come back again and water drops make shivers detonate the desire that my tongue hurries to follow and nest below and inside you. more.

Drunk. Dizzy. Displaced. Remembering your smell nested in mine. A spasm. A shiver. A shake. Your tongue parading round my neck, your hand caressing my hair. A feral grin. An endless sigh. A divine hard on. Wanting to kiss. To get drunk in the green of your eyes sustaining me into the next wave. I look at you. I crash into your warm shores. I'm adrift. I miss you. I seek you.

there a presence in the darkness, but it's not scaring you. there's a warmth next to you, holding you close. there's life in the flesh and the sinew, in the hair and to the bone. there's a light in the eye and a glint in the smile, even though nothing can be seen. you breathe in, you breathe out, and you breathe in and you breathe out heavier this time, and I feel you there, sliding happily into slumber, my heart roaring.

From months, to month, to days. I hurry to see you, to talk to you, to touch you, to feel you. These are now outside of the realm of anxious possibility and inside the realm of future reality, right where they belong.

Your upside down face framed in cool, cold blue and my back stiffens, the hairs in the back of my neck rise, my mouth dries. I try to whisper something to the photograph. And I do. And nothing happens. And I look at the clock. And nothing happens. And time passes. And something will happen. And we know it.

I'm here early and alone looking at the water and thinking of you. There's warmth in my face and I don't know if it's the sun or the memory of your laughter still rocking between my ears. Two out of three will be here, and many others, our sisters and brothers, but that does not make this whole.  Still there's a joy in the longing. Someone great is missing.

zipping down the mountain, a dark spot moving fast amidst the white, the sound of snow being quickly ground, the only "next one to three seconds" mattering. all other internal dials and levers set to "not care". unburdened, risen high on the wave of adrenaline. sharp, cold intakes of oxygen, a brain thrumming with activity, a body relaxed, a spirit laughing, all centred in one thing: " how fast can I go with perfect balance? "

absentmindedly and a little tired we talk our day to days. we feel it nipping at the magic of the moment a little. your finger slides the side of your neck, my shoulders tense, the curve of your smile grows, I can almost taste you again, that memory flaring bright, the room rumbles, the light pulses. freeze it. freeze this now. time and distance. second by second to step by step, we cross the distance with muted desire.

the sky is of a muted grey. maybe it's just hard to hear the clouds passing by as you explain how to say ruměnec, erröten, rougir, blush

The wind rustles your hair, the bite of cold sharp on your cheeks, biting. The sun describes a languid arc through the sky and you wonder about the northern lights, remember a closeness. You feel the bite of the wind sharper still, as a smile draws in your face.

  This is unbelievable. I've been up since 4. Slept 90 minutes. I've caught a plane and came to Lisbon. I've spent the day working in an amazing office overseeing the river and the concert arena where I'm coming to see Tool in Summer. The next two days are brimming with wondrous colours and possibility. In a few hours I'll be flying off to Prague to see Anna. The journey here has not been without a little pain. But god damn if this doesn't give me vertigo. This is probably the happiest post on this blog, ever. I can always be proven wrong, though. What a rush! High highs, low lows. It's just a ride.

It's about all these different artists and their relationship with their dream. And... The health of their relationship that they have with their dream, with their art, right? (...) The metaphor for the dream is the seagull. Treplyov falls in love with Nina, calls her his seagull, that's his dream, to be with her. And... When she won't love him, because she's in love with a more successful, older writer, what he does is he goes and kills... fucking... he shoots a seagull and gives it to her, right? And for me what that play is always about is that the way to have a healthy relationship with your dream is like a seagull. There's no such thing as a seagull that you can have as a pet. It needs to be wild. It needs to out in front of you. You need to be chasing it. It needs to be going in different directions and you can't... The only way you can touch it or attain it, is you gotta kill it. And by killing it it's over, man. Like, you have to chase it. You ...

ruptura. estou só em verdade de novo. a vida muda de novo. de novo, cansado. amor, amor que mato. sou cinzas.

Balanced by a gyroscope until like a boomerang, an ever present ache sends my hand hurtling towards the bottle. Class fades as the wine sings a song of madness and I can't stop too long to look at you or I'll fall so I run and I'm trying to be elegantly wasted ending up looking deep into the danger of your eyes in stop still motion, my downfall signalled by the perceptible trouble felt in my mind, my muscles, my heart. Everything invaded. Hands around my throat, making me gasp for air, enticing me to continue the dialogue, to dig in and keep talking until I can't do more than beg for you to give me shelter in the pink of your lips. We turn it on. We are looner. We fall prey to the avarice of our desire. Morning comes and we have to push the sky away.

Chegaste desviaste-me a cara. Durante o jantar tentei interagir contigo olhos nos olhos, mas olhavas para onde eu estava ausente. No concerto dei-te pus-te a mão no colo, não me tocaste de volta. Quando nos deitamos na escuridão do quarto, fiquei frente a frente a ver se querias falar mimo, mas foi outra porta fechada outra janela fechada uma escuridão mais escura. Houve um pouco de calor esta manhã, mas eu já ardia sozinho. Na despedida desviaste-me o beijo outra vez.