mitt hjärta
jag fick ett brev.
ett riktigt brev.
ett handskrivet brev.
från en riktig vän.
min finaste.
i'm fucked forever
ikväll lagade jag och frida en trerätters middag och drack rosévin
det skulle egentligen avslutas med spy bar men jag kom fram till att jag inte riktigt pallade det.
you can't run away from what's in your head
i carry you
imagine what loneliness
will drive someone to do
now multiply that times me
and multiply that times you
now imagine what it would take to make
this all happen again
and just when you think you're gonna cry
multiply that times ten
you
are distracting me
from all other activities
and i know the fact of your presence
will dominate my memory
of this restaurant this table
this day and this town
cause i carry you,
i carry you around
will drive someone to do
now multiply that times me
and multiply that times you
now imagine what it would take to make
this all happen again
and just when you think you're gonna cry
multiply that times ten
you
are distracting me
from all other activities
and i know the fact of your presence
will dominate my memory
of this restaurant this table
this day and this town
cause i carry you,
i carry you around
jag minns det som igår
va ont det gör.
love is like falling, falling is like this
you give me that look, that's like laughing
with liquid in your mouth
like you're choosing between choking
and spitting it all out
like you're trying to fight gravity
on a planet that insist
that love is like falling
and falling is like this
the slant
the slant
a building settling around me
my figure female framed crookedly
in the threshold
of the room
door scraping floorboards
with every opening
carving a rough history
of bedroom scenes
the plot hard to follow
the text obscured
in the fields of sheets
slowly gathering the stains
of seasons spent lying there
red and brown
like leaves fallen
the colors of an eternal cycle
fading with the
wash cycle
and the rinse cycle
again an unfamiliar smell
like my name misspelled
or misspoken
a cycle broken
the sound of them strong
stalking talking about their prey
like the way hammer meets nail
pounding, they say
pounding out the rhythms of attraction
like a woman was a drum like a body was a weapon
like there was something more they wanted
than the journey
like it was owed to them
steel toed they walk
and I'm wondering why this fear of men
maybe it's because I'm hungry
and like a baby I'm dependent on them
to feed me
I am a work in progress
dressed in the fabric of a world unfolding
offering me intricte patterns of questions
rhythms that never come clean
and strengths that you still haven't seen
little plastic castle
in a coffee shop in a city
which is every coffee shop in a city
on a day
which is every day
i picked up a magazine
which is every magazine
i read a story
then i forgot it right away
and they say "goldfish have no memory"
i guess their lives are much like mine
and the little platic castle
is a surprice every time
and it's hard to say if their happy
but they don't seem much to mind
i like it when you call me big popa
hoho. nu är jag "hemma" igen. stockholm suger, när man är ensam och ska plugga till ett prov.
mannen och jag tog farväl idag efter typ tre veckor på varandra. sämst.
emmaboda var najs. mina njurar dog dock och jag missade sista kvällen. SISTA. sämst.
fick en puss av snygga snubben i hoffmaestro. ingen såg. sämst.
jag sitter i ett rum med endast lådor. lådor med alla mina kläder i. sämst.
it is, isn't it?
sov tre timmar i natt.
för mycket att tänka på helt enkelt.
he's coming home
mitt hjärta kommer hem om några timmar
imorgon åker jag hem till det (den.. han)
WOHO
JAG HITTADE DOM
BILDERNA!
hehe
(nattmacka nununu)
BILDERNA!
hehe
(nattmacka nununu)
PANIK
jag råkade trycka någonstans så alla mina bilder på datorn försvann
då gick jag in på papperskorgen för att ta tillbaka mina bilder
jag tog tillbaka allt som låg i papperskorgen
men allt jag fick var bilder som jag tagit bort förut
MED FLIT
så du sitter jag här med gamla, bilder som legat och möglat i papperskorgen
damn you datta
I stand corrected
ikväll har jag gått på bio och ätit/fikat på bögstället med jeanette. det var najs.
it is you
and we talked it out and we talked it down
but your eyes were not listening
and my ears were looking around
for another song to sing
but it was you each time
it was you
the answer to each moment must be yes
and the question: can you live with that?
becomes the test
so you weigh it against that aching in your chest
and that secretly relentless emptiness
outta me, onto you
don't talk when i'm around
watch out for my mum
be fine, define
kiss my ass
black my eyes
take my hand
shut up
don't grow up
please grow up
don't be mad
dream
live, lie, die
close your heart
"det är kört för dig"
sjuk natt igår. jag, nicki och jossan bestämde oss för att vina och öla lite i tanto. vi fick sitta ifred i tre minuter sen kommer ett gäng spanjorer på led, dansandes och spelandes. gitarrer, gurkor, trummor, munspel. you name it. En snubbe lyfte upp mig (bokstavligt talat) och jag och tjejerna joinade ledet. till slut hamnade vi under en bro, med najs människor och jävligt najs musik. Kvällen slutade med ett nattdopp.
idag har jag struttat runt med frudling. vi har dragit bort hår från benen och sugit på glass. och druckigt kaffe såklart.
jag saknar dig
there's an aweful lot of breathing room, but i can hardly move.
it's time to come home.
can't tell you what i've learn from school but i can tell you a story or two
jag har hittat en sånt där ställe
ett fint ställe
mitt ställe
and then you'll find out where it all went wrong
är det bara jag som undviker solen?