Discord - Freundesbrief

Dachte früher echt, warum bekommt sie keine Antwort im Discord.
War ja nie im Discord und wusste nicht, das dort nicht viel Los ist, trotz das so viele dort online sind. Mir tat sie in diesem Zeitpunkt Leid. Heute weiß ich selber, das vielleicht mal eine Antwort kommt im Discord oder auch nicht oder in 5 Stunden oder mehr. Aber wenn man "Neu reinkommt" weiß man dies nicht :/

Ich Denke An Alte Zeiten

20.10.24 ::  Trägheitsdämpfer

Nur Noch Schatten Auf Dem Bildschirm

Tech für Fortgeschrittene 
N bissel derber als gewohnt…
Was n Spaß!!!

03.06.25 - Durch & Durch verspult (Floooh & Tapir in Deppo).mp3

05 - Let Them Burn

Lines in the Dust - Piano

Golden Rush

Alternative rock mixed with some classic rock elements and rap vocal flow

Sweltering angst  toward shallow or corroded human interaction

Strange.
Everything he knows is
strange.
Everywhere he goes feels
strange.

He holds her hand
no wedding band
just a photograph.
Strange.

He looks up.
She turns away.
Both in motion
lost that day.

No final fight,
just two hearts
folding into night.

Can’t be broken.
Can’t be proud.
A promise
barely said aloud.
It’s
Strange.

Maybe peace is not a crown
not something worn,
then handed down.
The ache that still survives
is just the proof
they tried.

The map looked better before the mend.
The story worked
just not the end.
Love, in draft,
gets left behind
unfinished
by some grand design.

Time moved on,
the way time does.
Another love
took root because
there’s always space,
though never quite
the shape
of one that was.

Maybe peace is not a crown
not something worn,
then handed down.
The ache that still survives
is still the proof
they tried.

Strange
how sorrow lingers long,
when once it made
something so strong.

Strange
how joy can feel like risk
but we reach for it,
even like this.

Strange,
we try
even if we’re wrong.
Even if we don’t belong.

Sometimes
we feel seen,
find some hope
for in-between.

And if that’s all,
then let it be.

Surely peace is not the crown
it’s something grown,
then handed down.

The tired truth that tries to hide
we weren’t wrong
just not the time.

Not the time.
Not the time.

Golden Rush

Johannes Vieth

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