"sometimes knowledge is a shock."

das ist der letzte satz, der aus meinen kopfhörern durchdringt, durch irrsinnige mengen an likören und zeug. schon wieder geburtstag gefeiert. das...vierte mal dieses jahr. oder so. gestern abend meinte ich noch zu andré, dass ich es begrüßen würde, jeden tag geburtstag zu haben. mein kopf und mein körper denken heute anders darüber. aber das grinsen, das ich sogar in wehmütigen momenten an geburtstagen nicht wegbekomme, das wäre es wert. für den post hab ich mir schon gestern noch tausend überschriften ausgedacht. die meisten waren aber aus einem song namens "bad scene, everybody' fault":

I went to a party last night.
What sick things I saw.
Makeout sessions and bicycle messengers,
punks and art school dropouts.

I ran into this guy I knew,
but hadn't seen in years.
We went into the neon kitchen
and stole a couple beers.
He said his girl had dumped him
but was there with another guy.
He said that he still liked her.

All I could say was,
"Why, why, oh why, oh why,
Why is it always like this?
Either you're too mean, or you're too nice."
He said, "I even cooked her breakfast."

So we went into the living room.
Someone was blasting Zeppelin.
It sounded good. I felt ashamed.
I knew every drum fill.

Anyway, there she sat,
Totally kissing this guy.
They looked good, I mean like in love.
Then I remembered my friend.
He said, "How could you do this?
You said that you needed your space.
He's wearing the shirt that I gave you."

Then she said, "Why, why, oh why, oh why,
Why are you always like this?
If I'm having fun then it's breaking your heart.
Besides, you said I could have it."

Then the cops showed up.

say hi to glitter-hitler.