BOXES

i started to pack. it is funny how much a shelf can hold. i definitely own too much stuff. and what's worse ... i own too much heavy stuff. did you know that the complete asterix collection alone weighs over seven kilo? what's 14 pounds if you are not willing to calculate ... and it's the paperback version. and not my only collection ... *sigh only thinking of saturday makes my back hurt.

but there are good sides too ... i mean besides getting your own space, where you can do whatever you want, whenever you want ... as loud as the neighbours allow ;D while i was sorting out things that i don't need anymore i found some treasures. two to be explicit. in the farest back of the topshelf of my entertainement-rack i found two dusty tapes ... the two long missed, often searched and never found precious cora frost movies you cannot bye anywere. i am talking about "l'amour fou - the incredible world of cora frost" and TA DAAAAAH "tigerstripebaby meets tarzan" a movie that is as extraordinairie as it's title, it's about alien invasion, love, death, and woman kissing woman ... and i will have to wait another two weeks for my tv *sigh

but who cares, i found a treasure =D, i think i'll take it to bed with me tonight ;D

and because i will fill some more boxes tonight (books are nearly stored, i think we can pack the dvd's now) the song of today is obvious

artist: simon and garfunkel
song: the boxer
album: old friends. live on stage

i am just a poor boy.
though my story's seldom told,
i have squandered my resistance
for a pocketful of mumbles,
such are promises
all lies and jest
still, a man hears what he wants to hear
and disregards the rest.

when i left my home
and my family,
i was no more than a boy
in the company of strangers
in the quiet of the railway station,
running scared,
laying low,
seeking out the poorer quarters
where the ragged people go,
looking for the places
only they would know.

lie-la-lie...

asking only workman's wages
i come looking for a job,
but i get no offers,
just a come-on from the whores
on Seventh Avenue
i do declare,
there were times when i was so
lonesome
i took some comfort there.

lie-la-lie...

then i'm laying out my winter clothes
and wishing i was gone,
going home
where the New York City winters
aren't bleeding me,
leading me,
going home.

in the clearing stands a boxer,
and a fighter by his trade
and he carries the reminders
of ev'ry glove that laid him down
and cut him till he cried out
in his anger and his shame,
"i am leaving, i am leaving."
but the fighter still remains

lie-la-lie...