Talking Inspiration

I was spending the afternoon with two friends, a girl and a man. And while we were talking, it occured to me every now and then that this might be worth writing something about it.

Am I getting a bit weird(er) now by screening conversations for blog material? Maybe. But I think a few topics do have potential: 1) A compliment guide for men and women, 2) Things (not) to do when you just started dating and 3) umm .. err.. I forgot but will add it in case I remember later.

Perhaps I should take little notes when talking to people. Now that would be really weird, wouldn't it? ;-)

11 years later

13 June 1998, Turin. I had been studying in Geneva for about four months now, with the visit of my friend here finally met the right people at the right places - local headbangers from the city and the bordering France - don't ask where you meet those ;-).

And so we reach Turin in the late sunny morning after a three-hour-journey in a bus full of metal-heads (metal fans are perfectly nice and polite, believe me). Destination: the Monsters Of Rock festival, one day of finest hard rock and metal of all kinds and colours.

And the second last act (the concert having started with lesser known acts as Hammerfall or Uli John Roth - remember, we are talking 1998 here - and according to schedule ending with the great Deep Purple), opening with a red red light show, is DREAM THEATER.

Leap in time: 18 October 2009, Frankfurt, Jahrhunderthalle, 10 p.m. The three supporting acts Unexpect, Bigelf and Opeth have finally finished (not that I didn't like them but: I WANT DREAM THEATER!!!)

Guitar sounds and drum beats are permeating the black curtain which is removed suddenly. A Nightmare To Remember begins: an instrumental intro before singer James LaBrie comes running on stage and starts singing with piercing intensity.

A video screen on the back of the stage shows films and scenes from the stage - I don't need that, I'm standing in the third row, two metres away from the stage, just separated by two fans, one security man with a poker face and a low fence.

One and a half hours of pure bliss follow in which all five musicians show once again that they excel on their instruments and - especially Mike Portnoy, John Petrucci and Jordan Ruddess - fully enjoy themselves and what they are doing.

My favourites of the evening? Hard to say but I would go for Sacrificed Sons and the encore The Count Of Tuscany.

And oh yea, I had to have this shirt:

Shades of curiousity

I see them passing by
not knowing where they go
nor when they're coming back

They stumble in and out my life.
I'm well allowed to ask them,
am not entitled to replies

I have to twist my words
- if you offend the shadows
they punish you: they don't come back

Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SISTAHHH!!!

I'm very lucky to have you in my life. You make me see that growing up doesn't have to go hand in hand with becoming sensible or having an answer to everything. You don't have to be all serious and normal but can remain silly, smart and foolish.

Love you lots and wish you a rocking day and an awesome year ahead with tons of hugs and kisses!

PS: This thistle is like you - a beautiful vibrant wild growing thing :-).

Speed

Remember that movie Speed where they couldn't go below 50 mph? Well, for me it seems to be 130 km/h when I'm driving on the Autobahn. Even at dusk, even at night, even with rain and wet roads.

What am I afraid of? That a bomb could blow up my car? Not very likely. That speeding is the only way to escape an accident? Err.. Traffic jam maybe? The boredom of a 300 km drive? Do I have to prove to myself that I can set new records for that distance and that I can catch up those lost 20 minutes during rush hour?

Either way, I won't change because I don't want to change and I think that I'm a good enough and rather reasonable driver (no risky overtaking manoeuvres, no microsleep, no headphones) to allow myself the need for speed.

Imagine if I had a bike...