Piinguine aus madagascar Mister Bin asterix

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minions film Dre arielle die meerjungfrau

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Walt disney filme Neu im kino 39

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What about us?

I've always known that God is just an excuse for all the evils in the world, my father taught me that. He told me that whenever something bad happens, something we didn't plan for or wanted, we can always blame it on fate saying "the lord works in mysterious ways".

Being certain of that is a mixed blessing. It means you can be in control of your own destiny, but also that there is no afterlife. And then what?

Yesterday S joined us as we were going out. Just looking at her I could see she's beginning to have the same insight, but without the darker side. She only wants to enjoy life and not be afraid of how she will be judged or rejected in heaven. She looked amazing on the dance floor, as if she had done it her whole life; flirting with the boys, moving like an angel in a twirling skirt. I hope she never starts thinking about what happens when we're all gone.

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Not a mean spirit, not a kind soul

I'm terrible at being mean to people, and I seriously consider that a weakness. I can be cold and distant but never openly unkind. On the other hand I'm equally bad at showing people my honest affection, no matter how much they deserve it. I sometimes come off as arrogant when I'm really just a little apathetic.

Mom came home late last night, I was still up when she staggered in around 1, crying and smelling of alcohol. Amidst the frantic sobbing I picked up a word or two and read between the lines to understand the context. Someone had called her "old" over drinks, a remark that's more than a slap in the face when it comes to my poor mother.

I really wanted to say something comforting, just because I had the upper hand, but I could only think of one thing as I buried my head in her white Givenchy overcoat and gave her a technical hug: this cashmere is so incredibly soft.

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Start spreading the word

My father found New York to be everything he ever dreamed of and immediately started fantasizing about his future life there. He had always thought he would stay there forever, but fate wanted otherwise. He never planned to fall in love and if he hadn't he would probably still be alive. But then of course I wouldn't exist. It's the little things.

He had wandered the streets looking for a job and a place to stay when he was picked up by a group of young musicians living in Brooklyn. They took him in on the promise that he would work as a manager for them, finding gigs and establishing contacts with people in the recording industry. For a foreigner who didn't know anyone in New York he wasn't the obvious choice for the job, but he didn't complain.

During the following couple of weeks he spent more time at parties than he thought was humanly possible. One had the theme "black & white" after Truman Capote's legendary ball, people walked around in heavy clouds of pot smoke in their underwear and elaborate Venetian masks. He had the time of his life.

At 3 in the morning, as he was spinning around in the middle of a crowded dance floor, someone came up to him from behind, put a light hand on his shoulder and shouted in his ear: Do you like Mick Jagger?

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Through the Haze

It's a late winter's night although you can't tell by looking at the skies or the moon - I just feel it underneath my clothes. New year's eve, my father and I are driving through forests that have yet to burn down. We're not going anywhere in particular, just away from whatever's behind us, whatever we left in those cold stone houses along the endless LA boulevards. He smiles, we close our eyes just to see how far we can come without watching the road. On the radio we hear reports from New York, the ball is about to drop in Times Square. Soon it's 2005, my father's been dead for 5 years.

I wake up in my bed, it's so silent. The air around me is on fire.

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