Different Dark

I think you raped me
I think I never gave you my consent
I think that it never occurred to me to say no
I think that it didn't matter to you
That you never thought of it,
from my point of view

So go on then, do it again
You're welcome to hurt me
To rape me, to scar me
And make every little flame of life
Slowly die, deep inside

I think you stabbed me
when I wasn't looking
when I thought I was in safe hands
And you were everything but safe
How could I convince myself
you weren't dangerous
How could I convince myself
everything was fine
when it wasn't


So go on then, do it again
You're welcome to hurt me
To rape me, to bruise me
And make every little flame of life
Slowly die, deep inside

I'd love for you to tempt me again
To grab onto me and lure me in
As I've always loved to be run over completely
I've always loved to be scarred that deeply

So go on then, do it again
You're welcome to hurt me
To rape me, to bruise me
And make every little flame of life
Slowly die, deep inside

I want you to know that I'll be secretly laughing at you
Are so you pathetic that you have to force your love on others
Were you always forced to those extremes
Treading on everyone else's will and dreams

I think you raped me
I think you betrayed me to the descent
And now I'm the one who's become decadent
I'm the one who can't even focus on daily things
You've forced yourself further, you're in my head
And because of you I can't even think

So go on then, do it again
You're welcome to hurt me
To rape me, to cut me
And make every little flame of life
Slowly die, deep inside

I'd like to think that it didn't have that big of an impact on me
But who am I trying to fool when it changed everything
It even changed the fundamental me
Even though you weren't the first
To stain my innocence
Taking it for your own
It changed how I feel about things
It changed how I see them

I'm done with turning my cheek the other way
And done with pretending you and I are friends
I guess this is the turning point
Where all the pretense ends
For the first time I can see you clearly
See the effects you had on me
You thought I had forgotten,
but I had just repressed it
And it was bound to resurface
I was bound to view you in a new light

Or should I say darkness
You really should be viewed in darkness
For darkness is what has engulfed you
And it's a different dark than mine
It's a different dark than mine

The Capital Report

So I thought I'd give you the full report from my little trip to Stockholm on Monday. As I've told you before I went there to accept the prize for winning the Metro 2033 short story contest, but I had no real idea what was in store for me, except that I was going to a bookshop. I could barely sleep the night before, being nervous for all kinds of things; but as it turned out I had no need to be nervous at all, and I was very well-taken care of by the publisher people. I went up on the afternoon right after school, taking the X2000 train which doesn't stop at many places and makes good time. It took around two hours to get to Stockholm's central station, where after a while, I found the meeting spot, and where I in turn was picked up by the guy the publisher sent. All well thus far. I was asked whether I wanted to take the subway or walk and I chose walking; I didn't regret it. I'd apparently left the rain and wind back home because in Stockholm it was sunny and beautiful over the old parts of the city where we were headed. We stopped by a Chinese restaurant on the way to the bookshop so I could get some food in me, and then proceeded to Gamla Stan and to the final spot, the Science Fiction Bookshop - and its theme for the night, "Post-Apocalypse".

The evening was divided up in three parts; first a pretty non-serious debate on how to survive a post-apocalyptic disaster, and then two different author sessions. First out was P. C. Jersild who is a well-known Swedish author, mostly popular in the seventies and eighties. He was discussing the re-publication of a post-apocalyptic dystopy he wrote in 1982 - a book I got with me home, as part of the prize. After Jersild was the night's big guest Dmitrij Gluchovskij, who is the author of Metro 2033, the novel that inspired the short story contest, and its sequel Metro 2034. He spoke for around an hour and it was beyond any shadow of a doubt that it was to listen to him, that most people had come to the bookshop. It was insanely crowded all night, and there was no room to sit down; I stood up for like 4 hours crammed into a tiny bookshop with tons of other people making it very, very warm. People were using books as primitive fans to cool down. Interesting really, now that I think back on it, and I'm not focused on my aching feet. Anyhow - finally, after Gluchovskij had spoken about his novel and about writing (and despite standing up time just flew away), the publishing company Coltso went up to announce the winner of their short story competition (me). I'd greeted two out of three of the jury members earlier in the night and now they read out loud the motivation for the winning piece, my story Sagan om Viveka:

A well-written short story in post-apocalyptic spirit

that showcases independence, and with thrilling changes of perspective

depicts an important relationship

(freely translated)

And then they called me up and I went to the little writer's table and shook hands with Gluchovskij, who advised me to switch genres to crime stories because they sell better (DJ should recognize this phenomenon) and made some jokes about how I earned this little piece of paper. He hadn't read the story himself but said he was honored that my "career" should begin with a story inspired by his novel's universe. And a few smiles and photographs later it was time for him to sign people's books, and I looked around in the bookshop meanwhile. The Science Fiction bookshop in Stockholm is really something extra. I found all sorts of obscure literature, not only sci-fi but also tons of fantasy, and entire walls with Marvel comics; I even found the comic book adaptation of the Dark Tower lurking on those shelves, not to mention the whole glass cupboard of 'authentic Harry Potter wands' and other collectibles. After the river of people had died down a little, and I'd talked to some people in the audience (among them a guy who'd also been in the contest, and who I'm now going to switch stories with) I got my own copy of Metro 2033 which Gluchovskij also signed for me, so now I have his autograph on both the diploma, and the novel. His signature reads: "To Rebecca, the winner, with my deepest respect and warmest wishes", and when I flip the page, I find the addition "Hope to read your own books one day". It was really amazing and I had a ton of fun at the bookshop.

The night was topped off with a beer at a local medieval-style bar together with Gluchovskij, a couple of bookshop people, and a couple of publisher people. Some interesting and nice conversations commenced and I learned that Russians don't actually throw their glasses over their shoulder when they have finished the glass (that is just a myth in France), and that you shouldn't try enjoying vodka, because it's impossible; and therefore you shouldn't blend it out with anything, but just have it in shots and be done with it. At least that was Gluchovskij's opinion. I also met another guy here who had been in the contest and who had written about a teenage girl; although that is all I had time to find out. It was late already and I had to get going to the hotel. I was showed there by the most official of the publishing people and even though I couldn't sleep for more than just three hours or so before I had to get up again and board the train back home; it was terrific. My feet loved the fluffy bed and the fact that I was done with walking and standing up and my dizzily happy post-event head loved the long shower and the giant window sill where I could curl up and enjoy the view of the... alley (but still, it beats the view we had in Finland). It was extremely tiring to get up at 4.30 AM on the Tuesday and catch a train as early as six, but I had to since I had classes at 10. Either way the tiredness didn't really strike me until later. The train ride home was wonderful and free. My thoughts totally strayed and it was a special feeling to sit in the restaurant of the train with a hot cup of coffee at six in the morning and just watching the world pass by, thinking about the previous night. An adventure I won't soon forget! And if I should, I need only to look at that diploma now hanging framed on my wall.

Now off to sleep land or I'll never be able to get up in the morning;

POET IN THE DROWSY-HAPPY JAR

You Won't Silence Me!

Did someone say the word recognition? Did someone say there was a sweet, sweet smell of recognition hanging around carelessly in the air? Yes, I believe someone did say that, and that someone was me - hello, hey ho, hello, it's the Poet (a word that is difficult to rhyme sensibly with). Your good old Poet said this after placing well in the contest where I submitted Trygghetszonen ("The Safe Place"). But your good old Poet has some more news, and more things to say, and she won't be silenced!

My endeavour for 2011, particularly the summer (inbetween class and work, I was exceedingly bored), was to participate in every writing contest I could find, and so far, I've managed to keep this promise I made to myself. In fact I not only kept it but managed to achieve some of my underlying goals - practicing to write towards a deadline, and just maybe getting my name out there, in any way possible. To realize this endeavour I temporarily abandoned writing in English in order to enter Swedish short story contests, and one essay contest. To your Poet's extreme happiness - one of these contests went well, and more than well.

Yesterday it became official that I won first prize in the Metro 2033 short story contest. The prize is that I get to travel to the capital (Stockholm) on Monday, meet with Russian author of the praised novel Metro 2033, and receive a diploma from him personally. I'll also be rewarded with five books of choice from the publisher who has published the author's books. It's not so much the prize that amazes me - although it does, it's in fact one of the coolest things I've ever won - as the fact that I won, that the jury would deem my little story about Selma/Viveka to be so good, that it would win the entire competition... it's just a magical thought, it's just compelling, and I don't think I've ever felt so special as a writer. Perhaps it's the confirmation part, which is really what has been my driving force all along - the thought that someone would pick up something I wrote and just get it, just understand it, and if not understand it, well then think about it. To be meaningful in that way, to someone who's judging it objectively, and who isn't telling you it's great because you're close to them and you're obliged to do so. Of course this was a contest and perhaps different, but we're still talking about prose - prose, my lover, my best friend, my passion and companion through the darkness... to me, this is more than big.
It means the world.

I understand if all of these contests mentioned everywhere might seem confusing and therefore I have compiled a little list of the writing contests I've been part of, and their current status.

1. Icakuriren's annual short story contest
   Theme: "The key"
   Contribution: Trygghetszonen (roughly, The Safe Place)
   Status: Announced
   Placed in the category 4th-10th. I won an inspiring book package and publication in Icakuriren's annual compilation of the winners, along with the other 9 stories in the category!
2. Vulkan's essay contest 2011
   Theme: "Stereotypes"
   Contribution: Människan behöver stereotyper (roughly, People need stereotypes)
   Status: Announced
   Placed among the jury's favorites, and got published in Vulkan's essay compilation. This is despite the fact that I seemed to misinterpret the 'essay' part and wrote something very scientific and objective, completely lacking personal opinions, whereas what it referred to seems to have been a What-did-you-do-this-summer type of essay from grade eight.
3. Coltso's and Dmitry Gluchovskij's short story contest Metro2033
   Theme: Write your own short story, in the same universe as the novel Metro2033
   Contribution: Sagan om Viveka (the English working title for this story is Viveka's Tale)
   Status: Announced
   Won first prize, train tickets to Stockholm to meet with Dmitry Gluchovskij at the Science Fiction Bookshop and accept a diploma from Gluchovskij in person; as well as five books of choice from Coltso's published books.
4. Stockholm City Library and Sveriges Radio's short story contest
   Theme: Story must include one vampire
   Contribution: Drömsnö (roughly, Dream Snow)
   Status: To Be Announced
   The city library will announce the results in November 2011.
5. SKRIVA's annual short story contest
   Theme: Must be in genre/genres science fiction, fantasy or horror
   Contribution: Vangelis (English title is the same)
   Status: To Be Announced
   This year generated around 150 stories, that's all I know for now.

I hope that cleared stuff up. There's one more contest to go but I haven't sent anything in yet, and frankly, after all this writing I am out of all ideas...
POET IN THE RECOGNITION JAR

Exit Signs

I promise, I'll take care of it tomorrow

Can't you see how those tomorrows glisten

They're full of promises yet to be made,

full of promises still unbroken

And they whisper to you in the dark

Telling you there'll be better days

Do you believe them?

Do you believe them,

dwelling in the dark,

covered in sugar-coated dreams?

What choice do you really have?

When it stands between the final solution

and fixing your eyes on tomorrows

What choice do you really have?

When the present chains you down

When it chains you down so badly you'll surely drown

Even if you never chose it yourself it will chase you

You know you couldn't live this way

Clear-sighted, in the night

You know you'd just fade away

Eventually

When did the demons return?

When did the nightmares start?

When did it become clear to you

That it was breaking your heart
That it was breaking your heart

I promise, I'll take care of it tomorrow

Or really any other day that never comes

I hear those are the best days to deal with life

I hear that running is always the best option

And I'm always running away

Always running away

Can't you see how those tomorrows glisten

Really, can't you see it

Exit signs in the darkness

Exit signs that are only detours

But you ignore it

You see those promises,

yet unbroken

Those promises you made,

to yourself