Broken Alice's blog: "“ἈNΆГKH"

I know the poem by Dorothy Parker about her for some time now but today I got the first time the chance to read something about her (I got a new book today with 300 portraits of important women). One thing amazed me the most: After the birth she gave her children to the father(s) and never bothered with motherhood. Born November the 10th 1620 in Paris I think she was the first real emancipated woman. She never married and remained all her life financially independent. She was beautiful witty and smart read a lot realized what nonsense religion is and was famous for her “Caprices” (as she called it). She dies on the 17th of October 1705 although she was 85 she still had some quite young lovers and never lost her charms. Quote: “Feminine virtue is nothing but a convenient masculine invention.”

Ninon De Lenclos, On Her Last Birthday So let me have the rouge again, And comb my hair the curly way. The poor young men, the dear young men They'll all be here by noon today. And I shall wear the blue, I think-- They beg to touch its rippled lace; Or do they love me best in pink, So sweetly flattering the face? And are you sure my eyes are bright, And is it true my cheek is clear? Young what's-his-name stayed half the night; He vows to cut his throat, poor dear! So bring my scarlet slippers, then, And fetch the powder-puff to me. The dear young men, the poor young men-- They think I'm only seventy! -Dorothy Parker

He left me again with this hopeless feeling of loneliness and longing and dreams of those dresses… and not just because I knew I was lonesome although not alone. It’s just me and this silent wordless passion is maybe what really separates us in all our similarity. I am not as loud and more mind than body I guess that’s why I am here at home where the words are everything. In the old days, if someone had a secret they didn't want to share they went up a mountain, found a tree, carved a hole in it, and whispered the secret into the hole. Then they covered it with mud. And leave the secret there forever. So he left me and still I will be back in this hotel room in Honkong waiting for days of being wild. I love him so.

War Song Soldier, in a curious land All across a swaying sea, Take her smile and lift her hand – Have no guild of me. Soldier, when were soldiers true? If she’s kind and sweet and gay, Use the wish I send to you – Lie not lone till day! Only, for the nights that were, Soldier, and the dawns that came, When in sleep you turn to her Call her by my name. Dorothy Parker

I am sick and looking at my PC screen really hurts my eyes at the moment so you are rid of me for some time.

So the first day is over... it was better then I thought it would although I didn’t look as good as I could have. I bought me an amazing Art Books with pictures from the new Cthuluh TCG and the Arkham Horror board game. Oh and a sweet doll I must make a photo of her and post it when this weekend is done. They had Totoro and the Catbus there too but awful expensive. I hope I can get me another other doll from the series I saw and some new fangs I think I lost my old ones.

Funny how happy it made me to read it, you know sometimes when this feeling overwhelms me I am not sure who I am missing, and most of the time it’s your face. Maybe it’s strange but all the time I looked at your pictures far more often then on… well you know. Maybe that’s why your face is far more familiar to me. The two big events of the year happen on one weekend this year and I still can find no joy in it, maybe when I’m there. At the moment this feeling of hiding myself somewhere is bigger then everything. I read your old thoughts the other day, and suddenly I felt so much older, such a long way and I wonder if you still strangle with your tears. Maybe you cry them now and maybe that’s why I don’t have enough anymore lying there with that hot dry feeling in my eyes. PS: And you’re right (as usual) I still haven’t found a way out of here, but I’m getting more and more used to it.

Tripped A Beauteous Down a winding pathway In a garden old Tripped a beauteous maiden But her heart was cold Came a prince to woo her Said he loved her true Maiden said he didn’t And so he ceased to woo Came a perfumed nobel Dropping on one knee Said his love was deeper Than the deepest sea But the whimsed maiden Said his love was dead And the perfumed nobel Accepted what she said Came a dashing stranger Took her off by force Said he’d make her love him And she did Of course... by Boyd Rice

A strange feeling when public suddenly gets more public then expected and I can’t even find it yet I’m sure it’s somewhere if not where is it from? I still need a vacation but instead I think I will have to look for a job since my plans vanished. One day and it can really make me sick, that’s the main problem isn’t it? Saying one thing yet doing another. What a wonderful place it could be if people would just stick to their word, but then do I? I try but it’s not enough and I lie you know… no you don’t and if I told you, you wouldn’t belief it, would you?

So it’s official my external hard disk where all my photos are is broken and the only way to get them back will be a data recovery I can not afford so the work of the last six years is… gone. I just finished the shop I created for posters and postcards made from the photos I took but now I have no versions that are good enough to be actually printed so all the work in vain. I feel like sleeping for the next weeks…

Nobody has enough rope. No I mean it not in the English books on Amazon.de nor uk damn. So I guess I will have to play the 15 Euro shipping and get it over abebooks if they let me pay via PayPal. It was her birthday yesterday… at least I think it is the 29th sometimes I am not sure and think it’s the 27th pretty embarrassing not to even know the date. But then I can blame it on the pain and supersession. The present is still here and I am not sure if I will really bring it over… maybe I can give it Anna to hand it over. I feel weak about all this I don’t even know if I should do it at all after such a long time.