What Nicholas and JoJo (Not the Singer) Taught Me About Real Life Relationships Part I

What the fuck am I doing?

Usually there’s an enormous sense of pride attached to my lifestyle. That includes never going to bed before the clock displays those four magical zeroes that made my mom call me night owl ever since I was too old to be sent to bed for sitting in front of our living room computer once again at 3 am.

Back then, in what must have been some year in the vicinity of 2008, I was just super excited researching all things Bapesta, Baby Milo and Ice Cream to see what stuff (read: fakes) I could get shipped to my area via eBay. In the meantime those (ahem … mostly) innocent nights of colorful hoodies and sneakers got traded for mainly two things: US-Sports coverage whenever something appealing is on and love songs that inspire and fuel my nightly writing sessions and amount in nothing less than a very presentable Power Trip on steroids. Got me up all night …

This time — some 13 years later — I can’t shake the feeling that my night-time adventures finally backfire big time as the cloudy darkness out of my window warped me straight into Rabbit-Hole-Land.*

Picture me way after midnight, a humid summer vibe cloaked around the city, laying sideways on the way too small and not really comfortable IKEA couch I found abandoned in my apartment when moving in. Thank God I didn’t carry my own sofa all the way from my hometown because nobody told me … That would have been … unfortunate …