let it go

One of these moments.
I cannot cope with no reaction.
It makes me want one even more.
Just some reaction, to know I am still here as a being that is related to YOU more than on a basis of "I knew this person once".
 I hate to force people to interact with me.
I hate to force people whom I love to interact with me.
What comes back are echos. Whispered echos of my own desperate jokes.
Sure.
 People have other things to do than to respond to me immediately, because the world is fucking big.
One gets distracted easily in these days. At least that is the excuse which I have been hearing and I hear it more often and the days pass by as my childish romantic ideas do, too. I refuse to play with myself although I am kind of damned to do that rather than sitting with coke zero in cinema Regina in Reudnitz, "my hood" now, which I chose as a place to dwell without knowing why. It is a border region. When I walk through that huge supermarket Kaufland I come out on the other side of the border and the wind blows harsher, the houses are abandoned, the people are so weak, they sometimes can hardly carry their plastic bags full of raw meat, old pralines and bitter beer. I just dream that it is a harsh reality in those border land streets, it is a reverse romanticism, because what shall I do? Am I part of all that? I am not part of those intellectual mid-thirties Berliners that stopped putting on mascara, at least the women to go back to purity and "keep it real", that gather in the bar next to their flat in Neu-Kölln because it is kind of more local, more rough, more authentic. They transform an unimportant bar into their living-room, drinking cheap sparkling wine, being nice to each other, mediocre congratulations. I am over-dressed, I feel like the one who did not get it right in the wrong moment. I am not part of the social losers of Reudnitz. I am not part of the Erasmus students that travel through, sleep over and see every city as another waving flag which they can stick into their world map. I am not part of the ones who claim they don't know "yet". But maybe I am part of those who are waiting more than they should. Because for what? For whom?
Message in a bottle. Message on the cel. Message in my letter box. Let it go let it go let it go.
As the song  of Desire goes: "I won't give up. I won't give in. Don't call. Don't call. I don't care. I don't care about winning."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJqhUbHEpGM&feature=related