Skeletons

What drives me to do this
To constantly change
Drift around sleepless
Wander about restless
To be uncertain about everything
To doubt why I laugh
To doubt why I cry
Who am I
Who am I

Surely you couldn't have done this
Surely it couldn't have gone that deep
What happened to me happens to them all
And would have disturbed anyone's sleep
It couldn't have been you
It should have been done to you

Why do I tell myself I left you behind
That everything's buried deep and forgotten
I've been told I'm not supposed to remember
I dug you down with the skeletons in my closet
Dug you down where the treasure was not
Now there's only bones
Where X marks the spot
I buried you inside my head
And grieved it all
Before you were dead

I'm not expected to believe in your ghost
Not supposed to let you haunt me, still
Most days go on without you
Until there's a shadow
On the window sill

Suddenly, you're there again
In every voice, every letter
Every scribbled word
Suddenly, you're there again
In my eyes and in my tears
In every song unsung
Unheard

What pushes me to drift like this
Surely it couldn't have been you
Surely you didn't cut me that deep
Surely they all told the truth
And my restlessness can't be blamed on you

In fact I never buried you
Although I grieved you many times
And not remembering would be a lie
But I no longer cherish you
Or see you as divine
It wasn't fate what you saw in me
It was chance that happened down the line
And I'll get better sooner or later
If not live then I'll at least survive
And we've got an appointment now
The world and I
So haunt me later
In a couple of years
When I can afford nostalgia
And a couple of tears
Who am I
Who am I
I'm restless
I'm sleepless

And you drove me to this

Damaged Goods

I can't say I'm sorry I hurt you first
When in the end, you hurt me worst
And now I'm damaged goods
This side up, it's labelled
Fragile, it says, on the box

I never wanted to be dependent on you
I'm a free bird, I wanted the world
Now I'm part of the cargo on a derailing train
That will crash in due time
Smashed against the rocks

Did my sins matter
When they were that small
They must have mattered enough for you
To condemn me
But no one's perfect
You were sinful yourself
Makebelieve angelic
Makebelieve free


I can't say that I'm sorry
Or wish we'd never met
That I didn't finish you
Is my one regret
I should have seen it coming
And defended myself with my life
Instead I let you torture me
And now I'm damaged goods

Smashed against the rocks
Damaged goods, in a fragile box

Of Blood And Butterflies

I've never been on the inside before
Never seen everything from this point of view
Never been the one to be careless
The one to end things that weren't there

On the outside, your world will crumble
Changing everything you thought you knew
On the outside, you will stumble
And I will have forgotten you

All of this is a first for me
What for are all these blasting guns
What for is that river of blood, on the floor
Do you bleed?
Was that me?
I'm blank
I've no memory

On the outside, your world will crumble
Changing everything you thought you knew
On the outside, you will stumble
And I will have forgotten you

Did it hurt you when you passed me through
When I was nothing but a ghost to you
Did you see my cracking and faltering smile
Did you even notice it when I died?

On the outside, my world crumbled
Changing everything I thought I knew
On the outside, I stumbled
And I'm less than nothing
Invisible, to you

I guess I needed it to be done to me
The only way to become apathic and free
If you had known I would become you
That I'd do what you did to others like you
Would it have made any difference?
Would it matter to you?

What's your life now
Apart from an illusion
What happened to your dreams
And everything you wanted to be
Did you pursue any of them
Or did they end with me

You'll never leave
You're rooted to the spot
At least I did something
You did not
Good luck with it all
With imagining things got better

On the inside, your world is crumbling
On the inside, you are stumbling
On the outside, you'll pretend
Pretend until the very end

POET IN THE JAR

Lemonade And Skin Peels

Right, time to do another one of those neat little rants I usually do so well. Redecorating my room in order to redecorate my head, as usual; keeping myself busy to keep myself off track. Nothing new in this, nothing new at all, like in the way I will peel off the skin from my lips whenever my mind and heart tells me it can't make it anymore. I drove, and drove, tired of driving, tired of having to be alert, tired of missing turns and running out of gas; drove while my lips bled, and colored my teeth red. This time there was just a bigger wave than usual with the tide, a worse than usual visit to the city I called home for four years, the place I used to think was big and exciting when I was young and the city I used to associate with my grandmother and lemonade and cookies on the porch. I got older, the world moved on, and the associations got replaced with other visions and other memories that cut me through and feel more real. The memory of a lover who left, the memory of an almost-suicide, the memory of sleeplessness and therapy and depression, the memory of friends failing your trust, the memory of an almost-rape and violent thrust. Old, old, old. I'll rather have the lemonade, rather have the cookies, rather run around on the lawn while my grandfather sprays us with water and we laugh; rather have all the warmth and all the bike rides in the summer and that we used to take sticks and pierce through leaves while pretending we were printing ink in books. Instead I have the times I drank, the times we got high, the times you left me, the times you killed me, killed me, killed me.
It would be so much better if I had ceased to feel, ceased to care, if all the voices in my head had shut up, if it had all had at least made me into a convenient vegetable, then I could understand the point of all this madness that came by randomly but felt as if it was the universe's dark side directed against me personally. I wish it would have taught me not to fall in love with hopeless cases, taught me not to be a hopeless case, taught me not to drink so much, taught me not to care, not to think, not to thoughtlessly hook up, not to thoughtlessly fucking bother. No matter how many times you change the place you live the rest'll be there, luring in the background until it can stab you in the back. Even in a new place, full of new faces, there'll be the same drama, the same tension, the same human fucking disaster that's infected everything and everywhere. The difference is what you choose to do with it in the aspects that you still might have any chance to choose, any chance to affect. In Chasing Ella, Jake says to himself, 'I have to believe I am still in control, I have to believe I can still affect things' with the desire to be in control of what is going to happen and what he is going to do but even as conscious as he is about this he fails. We'll all fail. Even if there's no great destiny out there for us, even if you as Maddy describes in the same book only 'could be something', we still can't pick what's going to happen. We can plan perfectly where to live, what to study, where to work, but we can't choose what we're going to feel, and in my eyes that's what we're all down to in the end. Towards the end all you'll ever really be able to know is what YOU know, what YOU saw, what YOU felt. It makes no sense to dwell on what other people think or see or feel, or try to interpret what they mean by things, when you'll still never be able to quite fully figure them out; and still it's what we do, over and over again, in our meetings with others. We analyze and analyze and analyze and never get them figured out and we never get ourselves figured out and so we pay expensive money for some therapist to try and figure us out and do all the hard work for us. But what can they tell you that you don't already know? You can only know what you know. Experience points, my lad, is what it all comes down to in the end.
POET IN THE PONDERING ANARCHY ONLINE-ISH JAR

Middle Of The Storm

Three minutes away from the storm
I close my eyes and wait for the calm
That maybe the heavy winds
Would suddenly cease
Three minutes away from the brink

My heart racing again
And a million mushrooms
Are sung to my ears
And I laugh, I laugh,
I laugh to myself
Three minutes away
From the brink
From everything

Starting with the ladybug
With the baby carrier
On old-fashioned wheels
With the ominous clouds
With that ominous feel
Three minutes away
From the storm

I laugh, I laugh
I laugh to myself
Three minutes away
From the brink
From everything
And a million mushrooms
Are sung to my ears
I laugh to myself

Laughing in the middle of the storm

Piece Of Paper

I hold a piece of folded paper in my hands
Origami, a letter without letters
In the draft from the windows
I blow on this piece of paper
Meaning to give it wings
Let it fly where I never did
And look at the world with my eyes
Look at it all sadly
And shake its little paper head
Until it's hit by rain

And I close my eyes
And see all the places it saw
Feel its fear, surprise, and awe
It's so small, and shivers
New to this world
Already shunned away

I built a field of torn pages from books
That will never be written
And I made roses from the blank sheets
While the ones with words became the streets
You can step on everything I ever wrote
Step on it to see
All the paper that is still
Empty

This is a little piece of origami
My last chance to make it out alive
A little bird, in my shaking hands
Without words
Without a heart
Only a faint and frantic heartbeat
Afraid of the air, the ground
The staring eyes
Of winter

Please, please, fly
Please, don't crash
I need you to live
Little bird, please
Don't die

You're an extension of me
The only way I can explain myself
To myself, in words
Just fly, don't let your heart explode
Just fly, be blank
And let me go

Little bird
Little piece of paper
In my hands

Melancholia (Castle Made Of Sand)

So, you're some kind of hero in your own eyes
Heroic for saving yourself from pain
While everything else corroded, in the rain
Everything that made sense
And mattered

There is a melancholia you can't explain
You are distant, and turn inward again
Remember the sand that you ran through your fingers
Sand to dust
Dreams to rust

Were you scared of dying or did you value life
When someone took your spark away
The reason you ran, while you were in chains
And nothing made sense
Or mattered


There is a melancholia you can't explain
You are distant, and turn inward again
Remember the sand that you ran through your fingers
Sand to dust
Dreams to rust

Why is there silence at the end of a smile
And hints of truth in every lie
And every night, with every dream
You're shivering
Afraid to sleep

There is a melancholia you can't explain
You are distant, and turn inward again
Remember the sand that you ran through your fingers
Sand to dust
Dreams to rust

Castle made of sand

Green Glass Bottles

I wish love came in green glass bottles
Pop it open, and drink with greed
It would grow into a drug, into a rush
An addiction
That you need

I wish passion came with harpsichords
Then all I'd have to do was listen
It'd be effortless, and painless
And finally
I'd glow

Maybe if there was a stock market for things like this
Everything you ever felt, up for trade
Every emotion, bought and sold
All that you were
Slowly to fade

I wish I wasn't dependent on vials
That I didn't tremble when the glass shattered
All the green glass, the coins, the sounds
The unicorn in the merry go round
It all broke down
It ceased to matter

Drink, with greed
Love, in a bottle
All you need
Listen, and glow
It'll all be crumbling
before you know

Like Air

And you just said that we were like air
Empty and swept away by the wind
Please, to places I never knew
To places I never saw
With you, with the wind
With the breeze

And you, you just said we were a whisper
A whisper to fade away once spoken
Please, don't let me break
Don't let me fade

You're a silent rock, a statue
That I thought would provide the answer
Why it was all so difficult, and hard
Why I was drawn to you
Why I was ripped apart

You, you just whispered to me this is meaningless
That I'm chasing shadows that won't go away
Your voice fades out, the last thing I hear
Before I fall asleep from exhaustion

The only way I fall asleep
These days

Just leave me alone
Just leave me alone
And get out of my head
So maybe I can sleep
Without dreaming
Without your face, and voice
In my dreams

Ambigous

You're dual-minded
And ambigous
Everything about you
Signals to me
I should keep away
Like poison
Dangerous times
And you're venomous
I should keep away
Everything about you
Signals to me
I should keep away
So why can't I?

Better Than Nothing

Ignore me, please, be my guest
You never pursued me,
That was my quest
You're allowed to fight me
Allowed to drive me out
You'll hate me, at best

Even that would be better than nothing
Even to be hated by you
Then at least I'd know you felt something
That there was some kind of place for me
Even if you hated me

Fuck me up, please, darling, do
You never hunted me,
I hunted you
You're allowed to kick me
From your bed and out
And I'll be hating you

Even that would be better than nothing
Even to be hated by you
Then at least I'd know you felt something
That there was some kind of place for me
Even if you hated me


I didn't know I could still feel
That things could appear solid, and real
And I thought you were just temporary
A one time thing, with you and me
What happened to it all, to my head
After just one time
With you,
In your bed


Even that would be better than nothing
Even to be hated by you
Then at least I'd know you felt something
That there was some kind of place for me
Even if you hated me

Even if you hated me
darling

Push Away

Every thought is pushed away, pushed away
Look, distraction tears your mind apart
Then maybe you won't think of me
And imagine all of what could have been

Every thought is pushed away, pushed away

Maybe if I didn't look you in the eyes
Maybe if I didn't take you seriously
Maybe if I didn't listen
Maybe if I didn't care

Every thought would be pushed away, pushed away
I could focus on what I needed to
And maybe wouldn't think of you
Imagining all that we could have been

Every thought is pushed away, pushed away

Maybe if you didn't look so concerned
Maybe if the darkness hadn't clutched you
Maybe I could repress all that had been
And imagine it wouldn't get better again

Every thought is pushed away, pushed away
Please, distraction, tear my mind apart
I can't live with this, with you
I can't fucking live
Without you

Voices & Liars

I think I am about to burst
All the dreams about to break
The bubble I made for myself
So thin, so weak
About to snap

Cause things aren't like I was told in my head
Before the voices turned against me
Before they pretended to be you
And all my dreams are dying
And all my dreams are dead

I think I am about to fall
Like when you're sleeping
And you're pulled awake
So delicate
And you quiver

Cause things aren't like I was told in my head
Before the voices turned against me
Before they pretended to be you
And all my dreams are dying
And all my dreams are dead

And you said, forget me
And I really tried
But the voices became you
And told me you lied
Told me there was time

But things aren't like I was told in my head
When the voices had turned against me
When they pretended to be you
And all my dreams are dying
And all my dreams are dead

And your soothing voice
Still lying, in my head

Decadent One

And everything that applies to everyone else
Excludes you from the equation
I have to give a shit,
You don't have to care
Is that fair?
I couldn't say

You can throw up from yesterday
And fuck around
Get on those drugs that you despised
To get that high
So you won't have to think
Or feel
But I can't
It doesn't apply to me

You don't own decadence
And I have the right to be
Just as fucked up as you
You don't own ignorance
So don't be fucking ignorant
Of me

You're the only one that matters
The only one you know and love
I have to obey
Your imaginary rules
Is that true?
I couldn't say

You can exclude everything real
And be proud
That nothing ever touches you
Nothing breaks you
So you won't have to think
Or feel
But I can't
It doesn't apply to me

You don't own decadence
And I have the right to be
Just as fucked up as you
You don't own ignorance
So don't be fucking ignorant
Of me

Actually I was always the decadent one
While I made you angry, hit and run
How do I explain this to myself?
That I can't stand myself
For teaching you this shit was okay
Is that fair?
I couldn't say


You don't own decadence
And I have the right to be
Just as fucked up as you
You don't own ignorance
So don't be fucking ignorant
Of me

Daydream, Paralysis

Weave a world in your head
And pretend that you're still alive
Pretend like you bounced back up,
Time after time
In your head, you can have it all

In this wonderland I'm not dead
I can still care and love and need
And make an effort
Out of wasted plans
In my head

Fairytale, get out of my bed
Make room for me, and only me
You call yourself perfect
And then break in two
Daydream, paralysis
I don't fucking need you

Keep the show up and running
Be an actor, someone who isn't you
When you're tired of your shell
Of being trapped
In your own mind

Death, come closer
You used to cherish life
Without a fucking clue
What it all was about
Until someone broke through
And became you

Fairytale, get out of my bed
Make room for me, and only me
You call yourself perfect
And then break in two
Daydream, paralysis
I don't fucking need you

Play & Games

And every time you speak I hear a lie
Whenever I die you spring to life
Every full moon I don't sleep
And you pass someone else off
That you couldn't keep

It's gone beyond pretending
Beyond silly play and games
You had me hooked, then discarded me
Looking for change
You became the stranger


Whenever I hear you I shut you out
Whenever I listen I'm breaking down
Every night there's nightmares for me
And you're sound asleep
Unaware of me

It's gone beyond pretending
Beyond silly play and games
You had me hooked, then discarded me
Looking for change
You became the stranger

I want to believe in 02.43
That you're awake, same as me
Struggling with your anxiety
That your world is lonely
Lonely like mine

It's gone beyond pretending
Beyond silly play and games
You had me hooked, then discarded me
Looking for change
You became the stranger

And I've never been a saint
Should be taking half the blame
You're only repeating my mistakes
You're only doing just the same

And still I take it all out on you
And still I blame it all on you

Who Am I To Say?

Who am I to say
I have no right, no place
Who am I to say?

I said I'd never think of you
Never lie awake at night because of you
Never go through the phone book
Looking for you and wanting to dial you
Never, ever would I think of you

But who am I to say
I have no right, no place
Who am I to say?

And I'd never imagine you were here
That maybe you rocked me to sleep
And made me feel safe and real
I'd never miss the way we slept together
The way you'd kiss my ear
Never, ever, would I think of you

Who am I to say?
I've no right, no place
Who am I to say?

I'd never build my world around you
And never make an illusion that could fall down on me
It'd be better that way
I'd never chase you
I'd never remember
Or think of you

Who am I to say?
Am I better off now anyway?
Who am I to say?

And I promised myself I would forget about you
Never be jealous of one more fuck or two
Never care that you didn't come to me
Never give a shit that you didn't see

It's not in my place
I've no right, no say
So who am I to say?

Post-Visit Anxiety

I'm back in Skövde for a couple of days and I'm anxious as hell. The regular old post-drunkness anxiety, mixed with that feeling of everything returning to normal after a hectic week. At least what's normal is better than what it used to be. Things are overall better here. I chose to come here. And finally I'm here. It's been exceeding my expectations so far, and I guess I should be feeling lucky, but currently I'm not. There's too much shit going on everywhere, people lying and going behind eachother's backs like fucking crazy. No one's honest. No one's happy. They all live in their illusion, and pretend that everything's perfect so that no one will question what they chose to do with their lives. Someone is a molester, someone else protects them. Liars cover for liars. People hate and love eachother, all at once, and everything is complicated. I'd rather not go back there if I could avoid it, but I need the money and I have a couple of days free next week before university introduction starts on the 30th. The money is my motivation. If there'll be any.
I took a walk this morning to try and clear my head from drunkness. Took a walk to the pond, stuck my head in the water. The rain had already soaked me through. It was cold as hell and fucking divine. If a one hour walk in the rain can help me clear my head then so be it. Unfortunately, I'd neglected to tell anyone I was leaving the house, hence having everyone look for me and my mom freaking out thinking I had gone to kill myself. Just the regular drama at the house... just as always. I feel like pulling the blankets over my head and not leave the house or answer the phone for like, a year. All I need for company is Dallas Green in my ears anyway...
Maybe I should go do something constructive now, like maybe do that cleaning I said I'd do. Or I don't know. Disassemble a desk.
POET IN THE JAR

China Doll

Who am I
I'm flesh and blood
My body is mine
To give away, to kill
To rip apart
To thrill

But it aint yours for the taking
I'm a china doll in the making

Who am I
Lost in the flood
My mind is mine
To entertain
To cut in two
To soak in rain

But I aint yours for the taking
I'm a china doll in the making

I used to be stronger
I used to be of steel
You broke through me
With violence
With twisted lust
For every thrust


But I aint yours for the taking
You can be the china doll
You should be the one breaking

Living A Lie

You washed your hands so many times
Coloring the water brown and black
Muddy canals from your fingers
That water can't wash away
Your stains

You're a shining jewel, a pretty gem
Vision of the future, in a cell
Muddy water from your eyes
The tears won't wash away
Your pain

How can you still pretend?
How can you smile?
You're living a lie
You're living a lie

You share your days with death
He sleeps with you at night
And strokes your hair
He sets you on fire
In flames

How can you still pretend?
How can you smile?
You're living a lie
You're living a lie

The pain that he rips in you
The pain is mine
When he strokes you
In your dreams
He's haunting mine

How can you still pretend?
How can you smile?
After what he did
After I died
You're living a lie

Contrary-Wise

Lie down in the grass
I drowned in the dew
The drops rose over my head
Until I saw it all
Through a blur

The rest of the world,
All of it, is an illusion
In the middle, you're torn
Between contradictions

You want to feel safe,
You want things to change
You're trying your wings,
You stay within range
Contrary-wise

You've got blinded eyes

Lie down in the sun
I dreamed of you
I saw you in the water
Saw you smiling
Until you faded

The rest of the world,
All of it, is an illusion
In the middle, you're torn
Between contradictions

You want to feel safe,
You want things to change
You're trying your wings,
You stay within range
Contrary-wise
You've got blinded eyes

Rifts Between The Hills

There was a time we were together
When it was simpler than this
We stood there, rock, boulder
With eachother's weights
On our shoulders

There was a time the world was free
Open to roam, for you and me
Tied together, in wonder
The world isn't like that
Any longer

Time flew, dreams grew
Into rifts between the hills
I've hated you, and loved you
With some of each still
Cheap thrill
Cheap kill

There was a place for those like us
We saw it, and conquered
We stood together, amazed
The world has lost it
All its grace

Time flew, dreams grew
Into rifts between the hills
I've hated you, and loved you
With some of each still
Cheap thrill
Cheap kill

The world was ours when we believed
In every grain of our fantasies
As easily as we imagined
As easily we died,
My friend

Time flew, dreams grew
Into rifts between the hills
I've hated you, and loved you
With some of each still
Cheap thrill
Cheap kill

Defiant Angel

Who are you to define this feeling?
To bottle me up like a drug
Telling me who I am
And what's wrong with me
My diagnosis
It'll all be solved if I grind my way
Through the system

Hat's off to your majesty
Your words are almighty
The sheets of paper
That decide my life
Circle around
Telling me who I am
Who I'm supposed to be

Once, I forgot a detail
Once, I forgot a smile
And the way back uphill
Wasn't worth my while
Call me bipolar
Call me a lie
I'll still be in exile
Trying to hide

I'm not a rebel, anymore
No defiant angel
It's easier to swallow your drugs
And walze through your system
Through all the tunnels you dug
For your trains

Glory, your majesty
I bow to you,
I'm on my knees
For making me realize
My own disease
Medicate me
Have me sedated
Take away my pain


Once, I forgot a detail
Once, I forgot a smile
And the way back uphill
Wasn't worth my while
Call me bipolar
Call me a lie
You found me, in exile
Trying to hide

POET in the JAR

Cardboard Boxes

A shard of my old life
In a cardboard box
A splinter of my life
In a cardboard box
And a photograph
I'd forgotten I had

A cup of coffee in the morning
To wake me from my sleep
But there's still vacuum
In my dreams

A shard of my new life
Living day by day
Oh, one by one
I took all the boxes
To a different place
And a scribbled note
By your shaking hands

A cup of coffee in the morning
To wake me from my sleep
But there's still vacuum
In my dreams

As if it hadn't been
As if I hadn't been there
They erased all reminders
That kept my stare

They said you'd died
It's easier like that
With you dead
That I'd forget
And clear my mind
With you dead

But there's still vacuum
There's still vacuum
There's still vacuum
In my dreams

Rainfall Bay

It's never silent in Silent City
No other place is as loud
The name is misplaced
And withers away
As if they had thought they could change

It's never quiet inside my mind
Even when I rest
When I sleep at night
My thoughts are too many
They wither away
As if I had thought I could change

This lane goes straight through me
Straight through the tunnel you drilled
And life runs me over, over again
Reliving the times I was killed

It never rains by Rainfall Bay
Maybe your tears could wash it away
The lighthouse by the sea
Bewildering me
As if you had thought I could change

This lane goes straight through me
Straight through the tunnel you drilled
And life runs me over, over again
Reliving the times I was killed

As if I had thought you could change

POET IN THE JAR

Face Punches

Why is it always that when things seem to work out pretty nicely something simply HAS to come around and punch you in the face? Or stomach? Or any other appropriate place where a punch would feel appropriate. There was a reason I left this place, I'm not blaming anyone cause really it's nobody's fault and I know this. But somehow still it's just easy to see all the bad and not the good, see all the drama and all the bullshit rather than all the other stuff... though I haven't been away from here any more than like, two weeks, this city feels totally alien, it's just not me anymore. My new life and heart is in Skövde and that's where I'll stay, like honestly, after Midsummer's, if I'm going home I am going home to the countryside and not to this city. It's just full of people that I well have either a bad history with or they make me associate with bad history (yes I'm aware I'm a difficult person but yeah that's just who I am). Queen said the other day that I don't have the exclusive right to be depressed, and that I've been depressed since birth, ha. I was feeling pretty good, I am feeling pretty good, every  second that I'm in my new city and not here, every second that I'm there I'm just fine. Getting my own room is going to be simply awesome I can tell. My place is not here, my place is not there either probably, it's someplace either where I can well allow myself to be myself and just grow and well just be without all the bad shit that comes along with its wake.

Today I was packing out the last stuff in my old apartment, stumbled on some scribbles from my ex and totally broke down, I feel like a widow, I'm acting just the way a widow would and as if he had died rather than decided to walk out of my life and well nothing more to that. But he did die, part of me died, I guess something must have died in order to give life to this, my new life, my new situation? Something had to be really really bad in order to be good, and I really mean it was bad. You wouldn't know how far it went even if I told you.

Anyway waiting for my friends to come over into this borrowed apartment cause they missed their bus home, better get ready and make room for them. Tomorrow I'll be attending Pier Pressure for the first time since last time haha, well since 2007 or something, possibly 2008? Either way I don't care, tomorrow will be 2010 and that's all I really care about. So see you tomorrow among all the beers and awesome bands and the beautiful, wonderful James.

POET IN THE JAR

Cancer Growth

I am the voice of your whisper
The words on your broken lips
Lips turning into butterflies
Fluttering their wings
Into the ashes you sing

I'm the skin on your fingers
Between you and the world
Your shield, your illusion
Protection against
Everything

You're silent, these days
You don't speak
Even in whispers
No one that listens

You lost your touch
Your way with things
And all your grace
All these days

I'm here, waiting
For a word to be spoken
I'm here, broken

Cancer, dark poison, spreads
Shadows, visual echoes
Of the dead

Det döda i din röst
Det döda i dina ögon
I dina fingrar

Du finns ännu
Och du lever

Men jag, som är del av dig
Fick ge efter och dö
För din överlevnad

I'm waiting, broken
All unspoken
You broke me
To survive

You're cancer now
And you thrive

____________________________________

This is another hybrid piece with elements of both English and Swedish. It's simply the way it turned out as I wrote it off my head at 1 AM in the morning. The part in Swedish translates as follows.

"The dead in your voice
The dead in your eyes
In your fingers

You still exist
And you're alive

But I, who am part of you
Had to give in and die
For your survival"

POET in the JAR

Settling In

Moving always gives you some perspective on life, good or bad. When you're driving out of your old city, you suddenly remember everything that happened there, every loss you had, every kiss you had, every friend you had, everything. Every place you lived. Everything you did. A couple years of your life chucked on the garbage pile labelling it "Baggage".
The new place won't be much different. It'll have the same kind of drama and the same kind of everyday commotion. But it will be new to you, because you have never seen it before, and you see it with different eyes.
I'm seeing things with different eyes and everything here seems just better than before. I don't think it has anything to do really with the city, though this city indeed is pretty cozy; I think it has to do with this. Suddenly I have school and I find it so interesting that I long to go to school. It's five minutes away by bike, I live in a dorm hall where everyone is being social with eachother and making me feel welcome. And I don't have to spend my hours of my days going to a job that was supposed to be temporary and that I never really wanted to have.
I'm listening to Simon & Garfunkel, my mother's favorite artist, such beautiful songs, and writing this just as a little update for you guys. Though both sad and uplifting as it is I believe I will really come to love it here. Part of me already does. I will love it even more when I have my own room to decorate.
POET in the JAR

Throne Of Gold

Throne of gold
Would be yours
You'd climb the world
Turning your back on everything
All the needles
Every sin

You told me we'd scream
Empty our lungs
To all the world
I believed you, and your dreams
We could be great
Make our names

I was climbing the world
The highest mountain there was
Pursuing every hope I was denied
Because of your promises
But you lied

You're not going for the sky
You're not building that ladder
If that hope wasn't true for you
Were those dreams unreal
For me too?

Throne of gold
Won't be yours
You won't chase it
I'm all alone

With my dreams

Puppet, Doll

My sleep is calm,
And undisturbed
I don't look back
At your attacks
When I was hurt

This my cocoon, now
This the safest place, of all
Curtains closing, puppet
Curtains closing, doll
Come sleep here

That innocence I lost
So many times
Stabbing my heart
Raping my mind
I look away, puppet

I look away, doll

And I sleep

Calm and undisturbed

Imprints

These eyes, they're dead eyes
This smile's a dead smile
And I'm empty inside
A window pane
With the imprint

Of your hand

It shows in my eyes
When I slant my head
And repeat myself
With every spoken word
You can tell
With every whisper
From my hell

The rebel spark in me, is dying
The voice in my head is lying
I can't be anything
Can't have it all
That's the illusion
They built for my fall

These hands, are frozen hands
This knot, a rusted rope
And I'm empty inside
A window in rain
With the imprint

Of your fingers

My Bloody Hands

At first you had my pardon
While you were in shock, I pitied you
I was sorry for your loss
For disturbing you
With bloody hands

My wild collided with your calm
Ruining everything you knew
Stirring winds and storms
In your sky, so clear, so blue
Your innocence, doll, your smile
I run it down, as we collide

At first, I felt for you
The broken china, repairing you
I wanted to glue us together
I was healing you
With bloody hands

My wild collided with your calm
Ruining everything you knew
Stirring winds and storms
In your sky, so clear, so blue
Your innocence, doll, your smile
I run it down, as we collide

By now I fear for you
For everything you seek into
It was my blood, on my hands
You didn't see
My selfless hands

My wild collided with your calm
Ruining everything you knew
Stirring winds and storms
In your sky, so clear, so blue
Your innocence, doll, your smile
I run it down, as we collide

By now, you're in debt to me
Even while scared you should care for me
And be sorry for my scars
The devil applied
On my bloody hands

My wild collided with your calm
Taking away safe, replacing with harm
Stirring whirlwinds, and hurricanes
And burning the barn
Your innocence, doll, your smile
I run it down, as we collide...

Bricks & Pillars

Oh, you felt guilty for everything
That's weighed you down
And you have felt like the tower
Now crashing to the ground
I don't blame you for your love
I don't blame you for what was

Come closer, I can pass my love to you
What little I got left, we could split in two
Come closer, I can give you my hand
Lead your way, through your day

And I'll help you build
Your golden bricks, and silver pillars
And I will lift you up
Don't give up, yet
Don't give in, my friend
Though I know this feels like the end
I know this feels like the end

I know you feel selfish, for mourning
All that you were given
And you have felt like a dying stream
I don't blame you for your love
I just won't let you drown,
let you down

Come closer, I can pass some love to you
What little I got left, we could split in two
Come closer, little angel made of dust
Don't stay there in the rain,
I won't let you rust

Now we build your golden bricks
and silver pillars
And I will lift you up
Don't give up, yet
Don't give in, my friend
Though I know this feels like the end
I know this feels like the end

Of us

____________________________

A song meant for my Karoliina Piispa.
Hang in there.
POET IN THE JAR

Idiocy - I'll Be Truthful

Just a few weeks left and I can leave this place, seems like so many of the people here, even friends, are total idiots! Everyone is either hurting everyone else, making nothing out of big deals, and making big deals out of nothing. Everywhere you look it's just complicated and hurtful, even among your friends, among people you knew; everyone carries dark secrets with them that you don't see by first glance. Why do you always happen to get in the way of idiots when there's so many good and trustworthy people? I don't understand, and I don't understand some of the things that people can actually allow themselves to do to eachother.
I could just sit by quietly and watch all of it, and shut the fuck up about it, but that wouldn't be me. It would go against everything I've ever encouraged others to do, everything that I stand for. I will hold back slightly, out of respect to my friend. I will mention no one by name, I will not go into exact detail out of respect to my own integrity, but I'm going to tell you what happened.
This weekend I had too much to drink and ended up being approached by my friend's partner in a very inappropriate way, while I was sleeping. It stuns me that someone would cross that line. I'm angry and disappointed, and worried about my friend, and how she's taking it. I told her what happened, I think she already knew it, but it doesn't matter. What friend would I be if I didn't tell? I hope she understands that I have no reason to lie. I've been her friend for a few years now. I don't want her to be angry with me, don't want to lose her. I don't know how to patch things together, I feel like it's my fault even though it isn't, and it makes me angry too, I'm supposed to be a strong person and no one has that right, to cross that border. You just don't cross it. No matter if you're drunk, you should be able to think, you should be able to think somewhere deep inside that this is not okay, this is taking it too far.
I wish I'd been more sober myself and I would have left as soon as it happened, but I could barely even lift my head up without the room spinning. This just sucks! And what an end to an otherwise perfectly nice night? I don't get it... it's not fair!
Phew. There I got it out of me. Those of you who haven't heard about it already, now you know, at least shallowly and that's a good thing. Because no one tells me to shut up. No one tells me what to say or not to say, what to write or not to write. No one tells me who I am - and no one, absolutely no one - has that right.
POET in the JAR

Hunt That Word Flow!

The idea is spinning uncontrollably in my head and I can't breathe, every waking second it's on my mind, it's in my blood, racing. The story is telling itself inside my head, sometimes in slow motion, other times in ultra rapid speed, always altering, always revising, always coming up with better ways. It ties itself together as it spins through my subconscious, when I least expect the solutions to appear is when they pop out and seem... obvious. I wonder why I never thought of it before.
My fingers are itching to act out on this, to type, to turn this imagery and world inside my head into letters on a page so that someone other than me can see it. Can grasp how beautiful, how sorrowful, it is; even though my ways of describing it in words will never be quite enough to mediate what it's really like.
Alarm clocks go off inside my head telling me I have the previous novel to revise, a poem collection to finish, an apartment to clean out, course books to read, cats to feed, a tattoo machine to fix and a painting to make but I put them on snooze, shutting out those that aren't immediately important in favor for those that can possibly afford 10 minutes more of snoozing... because the idea is fleeting, the world is fleeting, and I have to grasp it while I can. These flows don't happen often. Not even during Nanowrimo, when all you do is write, putting less crucial things such as personal hygiene aside; do you often see them. They hit you sometimes in the madness around 3 AM on a week night when you can't sleep, or when you're nowhere near your word processor and you have to jot it all down on a coffee machine filter for the time being; but this is a flow, and a major flow, and I have to catch it until something dams it up and blocks it off entirely. Like a beaver (I am convinced this will amuse a certain someone) building a dam across the river bed stopping the water from running wild and free.
Patience dears, I'm getting there eventually, but for now Jake & Maddy need me,
and I have to catch that flow.
Hunt that flow!
POET IN THE INSANELY PRODUCTIVE; EFFICIENT AND SLEEPLESS JAR

Chasing Ella

Jake and Maddy are two brothers accidentally ending up in a fight with a couple of older boys. The situation is half salvaged by the old man Ellis walking in on the fight. When paying their respects to the man months later, at his funeral, something strange happens involving the graveyard's gravedigger, and the brothers find themselves in a completely new and sinister world. Ella's world. With the idea of finding Ella weighing on Jake's mind he continously zones away from reality and retreats into himself - counting on Maddy to keep them both out of the worst trouble.

Maddy is the narrator in this Alice-inspired tale, landing you in the middle of a dark dream world as far from any children's story as you can get.

Alice & The Caterpillar

A slanting sign post
Slanting arrows
Which to follow?
Which to trust?

She's a little girl in a blue little dress
A question mark, a game of chess
She's Cheshire, she's Lancelot
The giant mushroom,
in the parking lot

She wanders on, sign says Here
The other sign points her Over There
Maybe she should take neither,
and just walk across the grass
Some of Caterpillar's grass

I'm Caterpillar, in my cocoon,
I'm everything from sun to moon
I'm a man of riddles, a man of smoke
She senses my fumes
I make her choke

I will stroke your hair, Alice
Your dark blue curls
Blow little smoke rings,
Over your head
Then leave you with the mushroom, instead
And the slanting signs
The cookies in the glass jar
And the Drink Me wine

I have to go now, Alice
Leaving my cocoon
Hate to leave you guideless
And lost, so soon

But follow those signs, Alice
They'll lead you the way
Anywhere they take you will be
Some other where than here
And some other where than here
Will be some other place than now
Some other time or no time at all
Tea time, doubly so!
Now hurry on,
You never know

Keep your hat on, Alice, and bow
To yourself
And to no one else

Bow to no one else

Tea

I don't want to be
your bitter flavored tea.
I want to be the lemon slice,
all the sugar, all the spice,
the scent of safety
behind the void.
Stir me like you stir your tea,
have me like you wanted me,
good and pure,
and then destroyed.
I'll be bitter,
I'll be sweet,
all of what you want from me.
But you will choke on me.
You will choke on me.

Gunsmoke

Where is your desire
The fire in your eyes
Your lust, your greed
Your bullet time,
Slow motion speed
A heart by hire
All you need

You build a world of mirrors
Never look in the glass
And follow the train tracks
Without looking back
You never stop,
You never breathe
Never to take time for me

Where is your desire
The fire in your eyes
Your lust, your greed
Your bullet time,
Slow motion speed
A heart by hire
All you need

You lost your hope in the funhouse
Lost among the aisles
Chasing your demons,
Chasing your vial
You never cease
Glass from lips
Always have that wine

At ready

Where is your desire
The fire in your eyes
Your lust, your greed
Your bullet time,
Slow motion speed
A heart by hire
All you need

I'm not the heart by hire
I'm gunsmoke, burnt out fire
I can see it in your shallow eyes
You rule out fire for cold ice
I'm not what you're looking for
Don't you realize?
I'm not your replica
Not your copy
Not your lie

Where is your desire
The fire in your eyes
Your lust, your greed
Your bullet time,
Slow motion speed
A heart by hire
All you need

You've done your work with me
Leave me in my bed, go home,
Fall asleep
In your own sheets,
With your own scent
With your own replica
Paying your rent

Where is your desire
Where is your greed?
Ignore connections,
And attraction
Heart by hire
All you need

A heart you're leasing
might not bleed

Magic, Cynic

Could it for once be something... more? Something that wasn't entirely schemed, planned out and calculated from every direction? Couldn't there be that look across the room, across the road, the sound of her light steps on the floor, on the pavement? Could there be an honest smile? Could there be gentle eyes? Wiping away every inch of me that is cynic and tough. Wiping it away with the magic.

I'm not a romantic in person. Not in the way of pink glouds (yes, glouds), glitter and a big fancy marriage in a church, or getting so attached to your other half that that's exactly what you become - half a person. Two people joined together as one, losing all identity and touch. Not in the way of believing that love is something that gets stronger over the years, rather than losing all of its introductory charm. I know that what you feel for someone can be strengthened by the day. I was there, I've felt it, I know it. And it was different from other things I known. But the deep part of me, the one deep inside that doesn't act like me, speak like me, think like me; that part didn't disappear. There were still feelings of being chained to the ground. It was because I hadn't found the right one. I had found someone I let very close, someone who it hurt to love. But it wasn't the one. Couldn't been.

If there is such a thing as a soulmate, how does it work? Can you really just find one person that is that mirror of yourself, without becoming your replica; and if it doesn't work out that's it? We've blown it? I doubt it, it just doesn't feel right, but when did life feel right? When was life fair, last time I checked? And if there are indeed odds that we will find that one person who's completely right for us, the odds that it will last seem to shrink beside it, in comparison.

I'm not looking for something perfect, something magical, or something that was meant to be. I just wish I wasn't looking at all. And if indeed I wasn't, I'd accidentally stumble upon something small, that was real. Something that was not calculations made on a match making site, an assumption of attraction only based on our sexual identities, something that wasn't a random and shallow encounter in some bar just to be left the day after. Maybe I'm just not cut out for it. I make it out to be as though I was left and hurt while friends of mine don't find it odd at all to be thrown away like a useless rag after use. Some call it casual, that we all have needs, that it's all done on equal demands.

But is it?

We're shallow people, we've lost our faith in romance. I don't remember what it's like to cast a look across a room and meet a pair of eyes and you just instantly know that there's a connection. I don't remember what it's like to kiss someone sober, in a magical moment, a first kiss full of anticipation and desire. I don't know what it's like to have someone close to you that doesn't feel like a burden, that gives you energy rather than taking it away.

Why am I up at this hour, why am I like this again, will things never turn back to normal? I want to be the person I used to be, I want to believe, I want to feel there is something out there for me, someone, someone with those pretty shoes. Someone witty and smart, and reassuringly odd, an Alice, a little girl. I don't wanna be up at 4.11 AM on a Saturday night staring at a screen at words that feel dead to my eyes even as I type them. I don't want to feel like I'm dead, like I'm dying away from everything that's worth living.

I don't wanna wait. I don't wanna wait for everything to work out eventually. I want things now and I want them good, I want it all, I'm done with substitutes, which everything that's trivial and doesn't matter. I want this month to race by because in a new city I can have a new start and a new life and who knows maybe just a grain of something that resembles love.

Something that's real.

Just a look. With those sparkling eyes.
I want to know when I will find you.
When I will find her.
So I know if it'll be worth my wait.

POET IN THE JAR

Your Hour Glass

I see your hour glass
With time that's running out
Time is running out for me
With all the seconds passed
I'm still the same as I used to be
Caught in all my old routines

Pour your sand over me
I'll still be your reflection
Take your hand off your creation
I haven't changed at all
As you can see

Use your open eyes to convey me
And try to face the different light
With all that's left of your dishonesty
You've built your life on a lie

Pour your sand over me
I'll still be your reflection
Take your hand off your creation
You are the one who's been changing me

You have been blinded by the grains
While you've been busy counting time
And every wound that you've inflicted on me
Takes the same form in your mind

Pour your sand over me
I'll still be your reflection
Take your hand off your creation
I haven't changed at all
You've made me

Starting with nothing
You gave me all
From empty pockets
To a heavy heart
Starting with nothing
You made me fall
From empty eyes
I'm now sore

Compared to nothing,
Pain is more

Pour your sand over me
I'll still be your reflection
Take your hand off your creation
Look what you have made, of me
A doll of pure desperation
Stitching eyes to see

Pour your sand over me...

Low

Hitting a low, wasn't going to take my pills for today but in the end I found myself in the bathroom scrambling up some anyway. Listening to Abney Park to try and take some of the edge away. It's working alright. His voice usually soothes me.
Today I had a strange idea about writing a kid's book about UFO's. Maybe I'll do that sometime. Meanwhile I'll just have to spend tomorrow on the poem collection, my deadline for that is on Saturday. I got today off so no worries.
Sigh Robert's voice really helps.
Now maybe for an episode or so of Red Dwarf before bed so I can die away laughing.
POET in the JAR

Sugar Bowl

You're the silver spoon,
In the sugar bowl
The pale full moon,
Without a soul
Will you light my way?
Will you be dim and gray?

I'm the sugar slave,
Addicted to you
I don't want to crave,
I want to be true
Will I make my way?
Will I be freed and saved?

I'm putting you out, fire
I grew to a storm
While you were away
You're no longer a burning star
Pile of ashes, is what you are
That's how you will end,
Old friend

I will end you
And strangle you
Take you down,
And put you out

I'll do it all
Without a doubt

Without a regret

So why haven't I done it yet?

Umbrella Man

I can point you the right way
Help you take those first, faltering steps
Avoid the landmines, and the landslides
I'll tell you where to step next

But I won't be your constant guide
Won't be on your coaster ride
Buy your own golden ticket
Buy your own train
I can't stay around forever
Through your rain

It's my turn to deny you
To take my hands off my own creation
I invited you to scar me, and to use me
As part of my rush, of my sensation

But I won't be your constant guide
Won't be on your coaster ride
Buy your own golden ticket
Buy your own train
I can't stay around forever
Through your rain

I'm done with being your umbrella man
Always letting you heal, before I can
My core is open, I need to be shielded
I need to wash your blood off my hands

I won't be your constant guide
Won't be on your coaster ride
Buy your own golden ticket
Buy your own train
I can't stay around forever
Through your rain

It would be in vain

Anarchy

Today is the third day someone random in Anarchy Online has given me valuable items, even while I haven't asked for them. I went out with asking if anyone could give me a pistol buff, and ended up with two level 90 guns and one million (!) creds - relevant is that on my own so far, buying precisely what I needed to survive and nothing more, had managed to scrape together 33,000 creds. Imagine what a difference that made for me. Either I'm simply very friendly or I'm a very lucky bastard.

Anyway, to stop geeking around. I better head off to bed now, I got a cold and aint feeling like I oughtta, and anyway I need to get up at around 8AM if I wanna have any reasonable chance to make it to work on time. I am so, so tired of working weekends. But soon it will all be over, I'll leave this hellhole of nothing behind me and build my life someplace else, someplace where I will really be able to live...

Today Rebel asked me if I want to take over her dorm room when she moves out in August, which sounds like a nice idea. Over the summer we can share it, that's fine by me. I'm getting even more excited to leave now! Just one more month and I will know if I got accepted to the summer course. Hold your thumbs for me, and that even more importantly, I get into fall's classes.

Love you guys.
POET in the ANARCHIST JAR

Dandelion

There's the Reaper,
harvest emotion
Luring under the darkest tree
There he is, the sweeper
Pulls the ground away
From your feet

Tumble, dandelion
When you're in bloom
When your petals scatter
Towards your doom
Tumble, lion

There's your tomb site,
patch of darkness
Where no eyes can ever see
Stone set, for your slumber
As you die, away from me

Tumble, dandelion
When you're in bloom
When your petals scatter
Towards your doom
Tumble, lion

Little dandelion
You were brave
When you were dying

Flames & Sea

In the water
You're distorted
Facing your own guilty eyes
Wanting to drown
Want to go down?

Into the cold
You're distracted
Thousand needles, all of ice
Taking you down
Want to go drown?

In the sky
You see yourself
Like you never saw yourself
In the water
In the sea

You see yourself,
as a part of me

In the fire
Is where I am, these days
I've hidden from view,
Hidden from you
In this desolate place

As you trace another ocean
Another sea to die
You'll never find my fire,
Never find my lie
Maybe, for the better
Flames don't go too well with sea

But they'll always keep wanting eachother
Like I'm still craving you
And you're looking to die
Because of me

Transparent

You're that scent in the wind
That whisp of smoke that always disappears
When I reach out to touch
You're the fog that clouds the night
That clouds my eyes
And I'm transparent

You're that memory I lost
That melody, familiar, that always fades
Before I remember what it was
You're that drop of blood
Falling from my fingertips
And I'm transparent

You're that invisible power
Invisible emotion
That I can't stand living without
You're what drives me towards pain
When I can't stand life without you
When I can't stand being plain

I have a million reasons to leave this place
Besides from the obvious, in you
A million reasons to just start over
Aren't you tired of this city too?
I tell everyone how I look forward to leave
While everyone easily sees through to me
I'm transparent

You drove me away
You don't get to regret it
You don't get to follow
And I don't get to come back

Bye Bye, Ophelia

It's tradition by now to stop by here whenever I finish a novel, and this one I hold very near and dear to my heart. Today I wrote the last chapter, and epilogue, of my beloved Ophelia's Photograph. She even managed to surprise me in the end, and I was very close to bursting in tears. Because of what happens, because of how it ends, because of the sad and melancholic beauty of their world. It doesn't feel like I've created it. It feels like they told the story themselves. And as far as I know Cade, he'd need to get it off his chest.
I borrowed my Grandma's printer to get this first draft (filled still with plot holes, typos and incorrect depictions of eye colors) out on paper. 243 pages it turned out to be, too many to even bundle together in a single bunch. I simply had to cut it a break after Chapter 8 and pretend that it was meant to split there, ha ha. I also made damn sure to put the manuscript on a CD, I will make another proof copy tomorrow (and yes, I'm aware that I'm being paranoid).
Tonight me and DJ finally managed to call eachother using Skype (damn that MSN into the wall and back) and I love that. It's just proof of how well we know eachother by now and how good friends we are that we were on the phone talking about nothing and everything for 4 hours and 45 minutes. Roughly. My only regret is that he lives across the globe. I want all my friends to come live closer!
Anyway, I'm dead tired and should stumble into bed. I just wanted to let everyone know, who doesn't already, that the novel is finished, and that I'm panicking in lack of a new novel project to throw myself into at once. Holding those pages in my hands was bliss. I've never felt as much as a real writer as in that moment.
I love all you guys. Without you, I wouldn't have hung around for this long.
POET in the JAR

Pretending To Live

And all I'm doing is just surviving while I'm

Pretending to live
Pretending to be untouched by
Your uncertainty
Pretending to love
As if the feelings of my
shard of heart's enough

It's been so many days
I'm trying not to count them
And keep me occupied
But I fall anyway
With every word I hear
And song that reminds me

I'm pretending to live
Pretending to be untouched by
Your uncertainty
Pretending to love
As if the feelings of my
shard of heart's enough

My sleepless nights
I'm trying hard to fight them
Dozing off alright
But I'm wide awake
With every word I hear
And song that reminds me, I'm

Pretending to live
Pretending to be untouched by
Your uncertainty
Pretending to love
As if the feelings of my
shard of heart's enough

And all I'm doing is just surviving while I'm

Pretending to live
Pretending to be untouched by
Your uncertainty
Pretending to love
As if the feelings of my
shard of heart's enough

Cade On The Loop

Crossing my fingers right now for something very important, or at least it is to me. In case it doesn't work out I'll keep quiet about it for the time being.

On other matters. Thinking constantly about the novel and about what happened this week, hoping it'll repeat again soon. We'll see. If it's supposed to be... it'll be. And I'll try not to let it distract myself anymore, although that smile is etched onto my mind. As concerns Cade he's getting very close to the end of his story, this time around. I don't know yet if I'll be writing a sequel to his story, it simply seems to be this one story with him; but I can't tell for sure until I've written the last few vital scenes. I was thinking how cool it would be to hit 100K before the story's over, but I'm currently at 81 and I doubt I'll last even all the way up to 90. Anyway, besides the obvious Nano-addict talk, what matters is that I'm getting near completion.

I have no idea what to do with my life when it's done, uh. Maybe I'll have to fill it with a social life outside of my characters. Hmmm. Seems impossible.

Cheers, be back in writing business on Monday by the latest.
POET in the JAR

Necronomicon

Just came back home after last night's adventures. I feel like shouting it out to the world what happened and what a good time I had, but seeing I'm supposed to be broke that's maybe not the best option. Realized that I had spent 400 crowns of the money Dad gave me at the pub rather than at the grocery store... ehh. Yeah. Waking up today was a bit of a shock (especially seeing I didn't even wake up in my own bed) but it was a very nice shock. I'm not complaining. I hope I'll get to see her again sometime soon, trying not to get my hopes up.

All my time lately is going to the novel. It takes all my time and all my energy. I'm close to finishing it, not sure what I'll be doing once I do; but probably dig out my old Playstation and play through some of the classics like Resident Evil or something. I had a strange urge to play it over the last few days although I know myself well enough to assume I'll play it for 20 minutes and then give it up again and abandon it for something else. I might sit down by the tv and get some Final Fantasy X done though. Yeah I think that's a good way to cure a hangover.

I'll be off to work in a couple of hours, things there will be slow as hell but I'll live. Probably flip through Necronomicon by Lovecraft for another round of horror short stories (already late for the library but what the hell. The book is a brick) and just try to pass the time, really.

See you later, alligator.
POET in the JAR

Insignia

I break the branches of an early fall, leaves sogging in the pools of dark water under my feet. The branches snap with a loud crack, tearing through the sound of the rain.
Up on the roof, it feels like it's raining even more than on the ground, the wind tearing at my hair and at the collar of my leather jacket.
Under my shoes there's pieces of gravel. The kind small enough to get caught in the pattern under your shoes, the kind that are strewn over the snowy streets in winter and emerge like an undiscovered shore at the turn of the tide. A few of these tiny stones are in my hands now, edges on my wet skin, marked by dirt and rain. I let go of one, watching it fall heavily towards the ground below from here, disappearing out of my view before it reaches its final destination.
I look up again, my attention caught by the opposing rooftop, the white flag with the familiar insignia flapping, and raging; in the stormy wind. It glares at me, eerily; I don't return its eager stare. That is not what I came for.
I get up from my knees, when the last knot has been tied, and it's my turn to fall down towards the asphalt far below. From above, all you will see is the white fabric, mocking the flags and their insignia back.
But above me, there is nothing.
Below me, is the whole wide world.
POET in the JAR
(A sort of novel idea, or something, that just popped into my head. I couldn't get it out in any form of poetry so here it is, raw and unedited for later uses. Enjoy meanwhile.)

Magnifying Glass

This is the sun,
in the magnifying glass
Burning your bridges,
without looking back
This is your life,
Set in flames
Until it's all the same
To you

You lost the big picture
You only saw the puzzle
I painted it in dark red,
like the inside of my head
You got lost in the picture

Hold your hands now steady
For the rays
All your pain will go away

This is the sun,
in the magnifying glass
Burning your bridges,
without looking back
This is your life,
Set in flames
Until it's all the same
To you

Your salt is your salvation
The answer to the riddle
I made you scream, and cry
Led the well to your eyes
But your salt was your starvation

Hold your hand now steady
For the rays
All your pain will go away

This is the sun,
in the magnifying glass
Burning your bridges,
without looking back
This is your life,
Set in flames
Until it's all the same
To you

You're blind in the light
Lost, you're deaf,
And lost, in greed
I can't guide you, anymore
I can't die for you, and bleed

You set your own sun on fire,
Magnifying glass

Pieces Of Glass

When I find you in a lie
You break down
You're broken,
In a thousand pieces of glass
Your voice is broken
Your fingers shaking
And you whisper

You whisper, finally,
The truth in my ears
A shattered truth
As broken
As you

It's so easy to believe
Your whispered silver words

The last word falls from your lips
The last honest breath
Taken, from your lungs

And I break down
I pity you
Who has to lie,
Even of truth

But I don't, really
I pity me
Even for a second
I can't be naive

I break down
I'm broken
Falling to the floor,
In pieces

Just like your lie

My Shell

I can't get up
My eyes won't open
I turn around, and keep sleeping
It's another thing to add
To all the things I can't do

Like leaving here
Like leaving you

My alarm rings
I toss it away
I turn around, and keep sleeping
Another nightmare to add
To all the dreams I had,
About you

Like leaving my shell
Like entering hell

All these songs,
Just one more time
Please
Just one more listen

Why did I have to grow up?
Why can't I just lay down and sleep
Until it all has gone away

Until you've left my dreams

Small Space

Just went out for a breakfast downtown that I don't actually afford (but I'm sure I'll work things out eventually). Back in my small space, that's at least my very own space, I'm listening to some Kina Grannis songs and thinking about things.

I had an appointment at the therapist's today, and I didn't go. I didn't even call in to cancel, I just turned around and went back to sleep. Now my bad conscious is haunting me, although I don't need any lectures that I should and would need to go there; and I can't let go of it. I just called in and left a message on her answering machine to call me back, I hope we can work something out. Every time we talk we work something out and we agree that I should come down on a certain day and a certain time, and then when that day comes I still prefer to turn over and keep sleeping rather than stumbling out of bed and going down there to spill my guts out. Thing is, the more times I don't go there, the harder it feels like it will be once I actually do. I'd really need to talk there I think, since everything around me right now is just so... fucked up, or rather inside my own head... and still I can't fucking manage to get down there. Well, at least I've called her now, and that's a start, I guess.

I'm so tired these days. I'm tired because of everything going on, because of working this much, because of mine and Happy's daily workouts. I fall asleep like someone had hit me in the head with a club and constantly tend to miss my alarm clock. I cherish sleeping like nothing else, as if the lack of sleep I've had for the past months has finally caught up with me and made me totally exhausted. We've been doing the workouts for a rough month and a half by now and the results are starting to show, and I'm starting to feel them as well. I still wish I hadn't been woken up this morning though, because I'd love to feel as rested in mind and body as I did when I woke up yesterday on my own accord.

I'm freaking out slightly about moving. I know that it'll most certainly be better than here, I know that there are many things I'll be better off without. But it's all intimidating too, and there are things I have here that I'm just not ready to lose.

I'll just try to forget about that stuff and focus on what's going to improve.

Now if you forgive me I'll take an endeveour into novel land before getting ready for work. Sigh...

POET in the JAR