stammheim latest apparel videos pets and plants hello workshop store  

go
 


HELGA'S (NONEXISTING) FRAGRANCE

...Right as I am thinking
about giving up the quest,
I discover his worn shirt.
I take it, put my
nose deep into it -

- and while the fragrance of his runs through my nose, my heart and right into my brain,
I start remembering literally everything I ever did with this guy...




Online Store

Login | Languages

 

 

Petit Prince

 



Order online the brand new Style guide (priCe: 30 EUR) - just contact helgA












I try to remember his face. I try to think of his movements and gestures.
I can't, no matter how much I try. Everything got lost. There is only his
name and his t-shirt he once left in my Mercedes-Benz.


There are a billion things in my head, even things I try to forget about for ages. It is still
there. But what about him and his voice? I can't remember all this. What about the way
he pronounced "squirrel" and the feeling which was going through all my body when
my tongue touched his beard? I can't remember anything of this.









I wanted to keep all this and it seems like I failed. Everything about
him seems to have vanished.

I start digging in my brain. I find anything from how it felt when I put my right toe into
the Baltic Sea for the first time, to how scary it was to see Miss Pomfrey in her coffin. I dig
deeper and deeper into my thoughts and feelings. I see physical formulas right next to a
recipe of Black Forest cake. There's the list of all my friend's birthday dates and as I put this
aside I see myself confronted with a shopping list I made as a teenager. I put away my former
classmate's names and find a description on how to move my arms to swim. Right next to
Lady Gaga's Alejandro I find the taste of unripened bananas. And as I keep on digging deeper
and deeper into my memory, coming past french vocabulary, latin botanical names of plants
and all names of characters ever been featured on my favorite tv-show, I only find the ache in
my hand while touching a lightbulb when I was three. I put away the stinky smell of rotten
carrots, the pictures of bloody war scenes and all I find under a biblical quotation, is the sound
a Coke can provokes when being opened.


I can't stand all this. Where is he? I take a last effort and search for him far behind the feeling
of my first kiss and the smell of fresh baked beans. As I dig deeper and deeper I hear Katy
Perry's voice and vocals sound down there in my brain, and under a multiplication table, right
next to the feeling of wet sand on brown skin, I only find the feeling of being sick while sitting
on a ship for a whale watching trip.

Right as I am thinking about giving up the quest, I discover his worn shirt. I take it, put my
nose deep into it - and while the fragrance of his runs through my nose, my heart and right into
my brain, I start remembering literally everything I ever did with this guy.









2013 © Helga Hot - All rights reserved. Hotline: +49 711 6016626 | Webdesign: bareth.org| Helga Hot Online Store | Contact | AGB (Legal) | Login | Languages | Site Map