Where decision Mimosa proliferate, grow more no love fern
Midnight in Prenzlauer Berg, helmet lumber yard, back of House – in my bed tindere I me once again to sleep. It’s like counting sheep, eventually fall to in the monotonous swipe the eyes then. Nope, Nope, Nope, Nope – ah what with animal – like – MATCH – good night. Hit never I have me with one, even though I was already often close but just before what -? Just before coffee? Shortly before sex? Just before fall in love? Or just before complete disillusionment? I’m telling you, the dating of the streets are paved with misunderstandings and sensitivities. The art to get single-Berlin, is as hard as the tight dance from the neighbors fully sweat. So almost impossible. But tell who this time to establish a few rules, to classify urban phenomena, to cut off old romantic braids and tear down incorrectly constructed walls of sense of. And for what? For the love! The real, motherfucking eternal love – of course.
Today I tell you of a Un(moglichen)Kraut
For some time, especially in the single State of Berlin a disturbingly stinking flower is wide: the so-called decision Mimosa. Their delicate, rolled-up leaves and their inability are characteristic sense soil and actually also everywhere else set to have an opinion or to take some position dig. As soon as she is confronted with a decision question, she flinches and makes tiny – which rolls up and crawls away. You is rampant everywhere where actions are required. “Come on, jump – we drive to the sea!”-a decision Mimosa has in any case never ever said.
The other day I met as a Mimosa. A simple being open to new, friendly, excited and sensitive. We were even love one another and sowed feelings all over town. At the end of the summer I, somewhat exhausted but still happy heart, counted how often this plant had intended something for us and was the answer: never. Me dawned, i’ve become the involuntary relationship bellwether, had decided by then every single time like our dinner, our sex, our weekends, our dispute processes and our reconciliation playlists. In the end I was who took our break in the hand.
Where is rock and roll gone? Only the hard get reminded in the garden of Eden, because none? I wate like with friends by the Modder, and with starting as long as we do it together. “Love is made of courage”, a sticky Nena song begins on this point. All I want to say: I thank you, dear decision Mimosa for as much space for the own development, you give me this. That of good and makes me grow – makes in the long term but also terribly tired and somehow lonely. Sometimes give I the watering can is likes you from. So come on, switching to attack mode and wow – with you! Be spontaneous, weird, crazy, or so boring as you want. But with conviction and let me not constantly tell you that you’re supposed to be something of it. “I’m going with you where you want to go whether at sea or only to the Falafelmann on the corner of”, here’re chirping again igendeine Nena voice.”
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