Delicate

Do you know how many times I thought I'd just let the car crash
Into the side of the mountain on the other side of that rail
Or how many times I stared into the sea
Wishing it would swallow me
Did you ever consider how much the sea at night
resembles the sky
Just without the stars
Just darker
Vaster

Inviting you

Do you know how tempting it is to listen to the voices
The silent ones, that seem to beckon you
Circling you like vultures that feed on desperation
Every drawn symbol on the gray surface,
disappearing on you

Do you know what it's like

Do you know that someone died that day
And how unbearable grief can be
When that someone was part of you
And had become you
And taken over you

Do you know how many times I had the thought
That it would be so much easier to end it
How many times I wanted to
How many times I tried

Do you know how much it scares me that I did
Do you know how relieved I am, that I didn't
Do you know just how much I rely on you
How delicately I have faith in you
How fragile you are

How I love you

How I love you

Delicately

Jackpot

So, it turned out that I did get that apartment, and I'm moving May 1st, at the latest. If someone's willing to take my dorm room earlier than that, I'll also be able to move earlier, since the new place is available from March 1st. I gave it some thought, and realized that it'll be the sixth time I move in five years. Restless? Not at all. I'm looking forward to it though, since I feel like I could use some change of scenery. And this place, in all its tinyness, is starting to make me wary. It works fine for a while, but if like me you're used to more space, it feels pretty claustrophobic after a while.
I went to the new place a few days ago to check it out, and it really spoke to me. I think I'll enjoy it there. I'm going to the landlord tomorrow to sign the contract, and then it will feel a lot more real, all of a sudden. I'll ask Mum to start putting boxes away already.


Other than that I haven't been doing much besides working with the game project for school, and I haven't had energy to do much else. I've applied for some job in Norway over the summer, hoping I could go there, work in some nice hotel or something, and get to see a new place with new faces and make money at the same time. There are tons of things I'd need to finance, mostly travelling and perhaps fixing up some old tattoos, but it doesn't seem possible at the time. If I land a job in Norway or not, I hope I can get something at all. Finances for the summer will be tough, otherwise.


Off to the world of laundry and games now, until something more creative comes along.
POET IN THE JAR

Modification

No, I'm not here to change man

For I have no desire to be changed

And made into something I never was

Made into a product of mind

That perhaps never was in existence

No, I'm not here for modification

There was a transparency in my words

Although I'd never want to be transformed

There's so many things I'd alter

Should I have the chance

Which is the greater one of us

When both of us wants the other to change

You said you fell in love with perfection

I'm not perfect, in any way

I'm aware of my own selfishness

I thought I'd use these years to dream

Of simplicity, and completion

When we can complete eachother

Without depleting eachother

I'll be at ease

I'll be at ease

Environmental

I just applied for a slightly bigger apartment, crossing my fingers that I'll get it. Somehow I have the feeling that it's exactly what I need, but then again I've moved every time I've gotten this feeling of restlessness. If not else, it's a temporary change of environment that'll hopefully make me feel more at ease with things. The cats sure would need some more space, and so do I... That's really the only problem with this place; that it feels like it's so small that the walls are closing in on me. This apartment is twice as big so it should help. It's also more expensive, but I'm hoping to get that apartment funding that I can hopefully get now that I've paid everything back of the old one I had; and in that case it'll actually be even more cheap than where I live now. We'll see when the landlord calls on Monday, I want to see the place for my own eyes before I accept it, as well as talk it over with Mom.
Well, this made me even more disinclined to clean this place.
Off for decadence now (the kind where you ignore the dishes)
POET IN THE JAR

Twigs

Do the beautiful ones stay awake at night
Do they starve like us
Do they bleed
Where are their thoughts
Are they ever distracted
Do they feel

Beautiful ones, do you ever get sick
Do you ever dwell
Do you have your own version
Of personal hell
Is there any depth
Are you just a shell
Beautiful ones,
Magic tricks

Do the beautiful ones fade
In comparison to us
As they grow old
The beautiful ones
Do they ever mourn
Do they ever worry
Were they all born with sixth senses

Do the beautiful ones stay awake at night

Do they starve like us

Do they bleed

Where are their thoughts

Are they ever distracted

Do they feel

Beautiful ones, are you ever sick

Do you ever dwell

Do you have your own version

Of personal hell

Is there any depth

Are you just a shell

Beautiful ones,

Magic tricks

Will you always be the beautiful ones

Even when age and life has taken its toll

Will you forgive us for tearing you

Unable to bear something so pure

And divine

Will you always be the beautiful ones

Even when we've broken your twigs

And you know there won't be any spring

This year

Beautiful ones, are you always beautiful

Do you ever dwell

Do you have your own version

Of personal hell

Is there any depth

Are you just a shell

Beautiful ones,

Magic tricks

 

You're going to have to forgive us

I'll struggle with the same ordeal

Why is it we can't keep the pure

And let it be free and wild

Why is it we have to enclose it in cages

Or make sure that it dies

And how is it we'll never run out of excuses

Reasons why it had to be done

Why we had to salvage

The beautiful ones

Beautiful ones

Beautiful ones

Daytimers

You've become a representative of hypocrisy
The same ideals that you used to despise
You've been blinded by the temporary
Until everything's been erased
What about all the dreams
And all the thoughts
All your takes on life

And yet you're quick to criticize others
Who didn't fall through with their youth
Who left their old grand plans for dead
You call them imperfect
You're the greatest cynic of all
At the end of the day,
Who was it who discarded their dreams

And you said you'd never turn into one of them
You'd never become proud of the plain
Even the ordinary would be extraordinary
In your world

And everyone would know your name

What did you settle for
The same routines you avoided
And your nocturnal mind traded away
You've become one of the daytimers
Just like every other cog in the system

Forget the times you used to read Lovecraft
And cherish his dark imagery as art
Forget the times you were an individual
That hadn't yet been corrupted
By the moment

Live for the day, you used to say
And now your words don't mean anything anymore
No promises are meaningful
When you decide to desert them
I realize that life changes
But there's a core to things
That shouldn't shift

Yours did
But I won't be warped
Even when there's changes
That I haven't predicted
My mind is different from yours
I won't be warped

Because I'll still remember
Who I used to be
And what I used to read
And whenever those changes
Are about to hit me
I'll still cherish
The same imagery
As before

Horrifics

Listening to Shinedown and trying to be poetic, which doesn't seem to work. My mind is entirely blank. I wonder if that's what happens when you get a couple of days away from school for once. We've studied so much lately that I barely know what to do with a day that I don't have to study, and still I seem to be bored by virtually anything. But what the hell, some music and some writing always helps, and if my mind should keep being blank maybe I should novel rather than keep at it on the poetry side.
Other than that I'm looking forward to Saturday when we're having a back-to-school-party and I plan on getting as drunk as I can possibly get without the whole passing-out-part or the black-holes-where-the-memories-should-be-part. I was tempted to drink tonight but then passed. I've been in such a weird mood all day, pretty depressed for some reason or other, and I wouldn't wanna make it worse. Now I'm eating pineapple directly from the can and trying to withstand the horrific, I'm serious, the horrific meows that Zelda's making. I've booked her an appointment to get sterilized, but since she just entered her heat period thingy apparently we have to wait around a month... and that means there'll be no sleep for me at night for a couple of weeks. It's been a single day and I'm already fucking annoyed.
New course starts on Monday and we'll be doing our first game project, some random game in 2D, it'll be nice. Though with my luck I'll end up in a fucked up group with a fucked up game idea thanks to the designers, no, wait, I'm supposed to try and look at things brightly and sunnily. With my luck, that I make myself, like all the greats do; I'll end up in an awesome group with an awesome game idea. Wish me luck (that I'm supposed to make).

Me and Karo have taken up our poetry project again, and found someone to do the proofreading and stuff for us, so now we just have to find a good way to get it published and most easily available. There are a few alternatives so far. Time to start thinking about an appropriate title, since we seem to have forgotten the suggestions we brought up last time. There's a Swedish site that I know is reliable and good, I'm thinking about possibly putting my novels up there eventually while waiting for that big break or whatever.


I'm still as cynical as ever, as DJ pointed out, but at least things are looking a little up. I just gotta remember that they are and not fall into the same old shit that I used to.
POET IN THE BLANK, YET PONDERING JAR

Whispers

We whispered in the darkness
Does it matter who whispered first
The words still stood out like screams
When written in the night
Like fragile promises,
Despite self-preservation
Despite everything I had taught myself
And everything life taught me
About repossession

You said it was possibe to be reinvented
That I don't have to be limited by old designs
Was that part of your whisper
Inbetween the lines
Or was I just reading lips
Searching for invisible words

We whispered in the darkness
As fleeting shadows on the wall
After the lights had gone out

Will you still be here when I wake
And will you be the same
Remaining unchanged
In the silence, in the night
When the lights have gone out

Will you still whisper to me in the darkness

Silk, Oblivious

You were more appealing before your insight
When it was more important what you saw,
than how you appeared
Now you've framed your eyes perfectly
With charcoal and straightened hair
And to someone who was oblivious
Who didn't know what you used to be like
To someone who didn't know you
You'd be perfect

Is there anything left in those eyes
And are they still amazed at what they see
Is the world more beautiful dressed in silk
Than plainly, like you used to
When there were still strokes of paint
Across your face

Of course I know nothing of your pain
And nothing of what goes through your mind
All I'm implying is you were more appealing
Before your insight
Before you had to try so hard
You don't have to try so hard

Circle of Pretense

You think you're living in a dream, when you aren't
And it's so obvious to me, you're so transparent, and I see
I see everything that you worked so hard to hide
I've seen everything from the inside
And I was there when it all happened
You'll always deny you were thrown off track
How long will denial be there to have your back
It'll surely replace me you see
If you ever counted on me

What does it take to force that smile and that lie
To live in the middle of makebelieve
Maybe I'd accept it if you chose it
See, I live for dreams
But they're a different kind
Well anything goes as long as you survive
If surviving is all there is to life
Can you tell?

I don't mean to ruin your idea of things
Or bring this up after all this time
But it amazes me, how you pretend
All the energy that goes to your image of perfection
When there's no such thing as perfection
Will you be happy living in your bubble
In your perfect little world
Until it cracks
Until it's scratched
And you'll be like a record on repeat
And it's stuck on the same old song
Glitching and scraping

And I have no desire to return, no desire to go back
What would there be left for me, just a black hole
And thousands of reminders
Remember why you made that bubble
Remember that you did it because of that day
And of that trespass, of that betrayal
What hand did I have in it,
Except I happened to be in the way

And everyone covers for you
And everyone's friends with you
And everyone cowers behind you
Afraid that someone might break that bubble
Afraid that someone might blow your cover
They all said they were with me but what happened to that
Now they're all part of the same circle of pretense
And I'm left to myself and to my own defense
Cause if your bubble bursts, so will theirs
They might have to wake up and realize they're in the real world

The real world is much darker than you'd want to know
And that's the reason you're putting on this show
But what's the occasion, for this illusion
I'd rather hate truth than live in a lie
And in the end I'll be the one who can look back
Without regretting things

See I decided to make life about new memories
Rather than dwelling on the old ones
And suddenly life seems to go a little more my way
When I consciously let it
You'll still be blind
While the pain kills you from inside

I'd rather have the truth
Than live like you

Eye Condition

Do you remember what it was like
When you were younger and less apathic
Before everything gradually lost color
Before things seemed so fleeting
And meaningless

Do you remember that you were stained
By age and by the same repeating days
That you slowly forgot how to breathe

Do you remember that you put up with things
And that you weren't always like this
That you'd do everything you hated
Lacking any other choice
While waiting for another life
That existed in your dreams

Do you remember how anxious you were
At the end of every dull day
You never claimed to be a genious
But nothing new would ever happen
And you grew tired of when things repeated themselves
When the tired old faces never changed

Do you remember how a few simple things made you last
Like scribbling words and listening to the saddest songs
Do you remember that opening your eyes took the greatest effort
And that once you'd opened them you wouldn't close them again
Afraid you might die while sleeping and unaware
Afraid that you'd die before loving to live

Do you remember how you fleed to pain
That the sensation made you alive again
It's true that it was temporary
But it was better than the angst
And it led your thoughts away

Did you forget what it was like
At the darkest and furthest edge of the world
Not necessarily real other than in your mind
But your thoughts was all you knew as truth
And you were tired of lying
Tired of the world's charades

Do you remember what it was like
When you had to put a mask on to the world
And did you notice that there's still flecks of it on your skin
To cover half your face and one of your eyes

Do you remember that no one seemed to understand
And that you wouldn't let anyone close enough to try
It was easier that way, or so it seemed
So it seemed to the voices in your mind

And now it's invisible for anyone who glances at you
At first sight you seem to be undamaged
Some might even say you were at ease with life
Some might even say you seem to love life

You've tried to wash the remaining flecks from your face
And you've tried to see clearly with only one eye
Imagining everyone else was blind
You might improve your current condition
And some might even say you were close to perfection

But those few flecks will always stay
And some old things will never change
You just sort them from the newer ones
With the sense of priority you recently acquired
Label them as unimportant to the present
And try to learn how to love life again

Just trying to be alive again

Solutions

How can you be sure you're the one who's mad
Just because you happen to see things differently
When everything's shrouded in clouds of white light
Woven in silk strings and stained golden doorknobs
And the voices from your home whisper to you
From the chimney and the windows and the doors
That all you need to do is run away
Run away to the final solution

Did you see any visions before you knew they were there
Before you were told you weren't allowed to dream
And you weren't allowed to weave yourself a world
Where everything still existed the way it was
You weren't allowed to imagine things differently

How can you be sure you're the one who's mad
Only because your life was shattered once
And the pieces became your safe place,
the place you lived in inside your mind
And every now and then you pick out a shard
And return to it in your heart
Where everything replays like old footage
Except you always know what'll happen

Did you mourn death or did you long for it
As the claws struck down on you
And you were enclosed in the jar
Were you aware of yourself when you were hit
And your sanity left the back door ajar

How can you be sure you're the one who's mad
When you weren't the one to label your mind
And you'll never be able to fully compare
The only thoughts and emotions you'll know
Will always be your own

How can you be sure you're the one who's mad?

POET IN THE JAR
A piece inspired by Chasing Ella, my current novelling project

Alteration

Every word feels like it's already been spoken
And every time I redecorate it looks the same
I'm so keen to try and keep up with alteration
That some things never seem to change
Is this a paradox?
Perhaps

Perhaps it is

I feel like I've been to every place there is
And I know what you'll say before you do
I know we'll soon fall into old routines
How passionately I'll fight with you
Is this a paradox?
Perhaps

Perhaps it is

I'm independent, dependent on you
And I forgot how to fall asleep alone
I'm in a trance, while dancing with you
The confusion is exclusively my own
My own

Are there really little things worthwhile
Does it really matter how I spend my time?
I chose all the meaningful, over the trivial
Still something is missing from my life
Is this a paradox?
Perhaps
Perhaps it is

I'm independent, dependent on you
And I forgot how to fall asleep alone
I'm in a trance, while dancing with you
The confusion is exclusively my own
My own

Do you think of things the way I do?
Which one of us thinks the most?
Will I ever be able to really read you?
Or will I never really know?

I'm independent, dependent on you
The way I always wanted things to be
So why this confusion, entirely my own
Did you also forget how to sleep alone?

I'm not saying anything is perfect
And I'm not saying I'm ready to let go
Or to be dependent
But maybe this time it'll be different
Maybe it'll all be different

And I could take a couple of steps
In the somewhat right direction

Maybe

The Game

I can foresee how you will twist your lies
And show up when you think you're the least expected
Sorry to disappoint you but I had already predicted it
And you've ceased to be as dark and intriguing
As you wanted everyone else to believe

Still every now and then you manage to stab me
With a lucky shot, that you aim at me in spite
Can't say why, when you were the one to deny
Everything that felt even the slightest right
Everything that had to do with me

It's as if you're the one who can't let go of things
When you never lifted a finger to stop it
And as if you just had to kick me one more time
While I was lying down from the force of your punches
I had a feeling you would, I had a couple of hunches

But seriously, isn't it time to give it up and let me heal
Haven't you dealt me enough bruises already
Did you know that last time gave me a concussion
Isn't it time to aim that anger of yours elsewhere to
You were worse to me than I ever was to you

Why is it so hard for you to tell when the game has gone overboard
When you're the only one still enjoying to play
And who said you could decide the game's every fucking rule
That the world would just abide by your every need
Excuse me if I don't pay you that heed

You should have taken me if you wanted me
Instead of standing idly by
And only yourself to blame
When I decided I was out of the game


So you're on your own now, just thought I'd tell
You can sit up late at night with your book of rules
And lose another friend by every morning when you wake
At this rate you'll have lost them all
Before you realize it's too late

Fireflies

You'd think that I'd learn at some point
And that I wouldn't pace back in my tracks
That I wouldn't turn down the same roads
You'd think I learned that,
At some point

What would I have told myself years ago
If I could send a message back through time
And would I care to listen, care to mind
Would it make me change anything
Or would I find myself tiring
And ignore my own advice

I always push it to the limit
I can never turn back in time
I have to chase the fireflies
Although they burn me with their light
I crave the bittersweet desire
To remind me that I'm still alive
I can't resist the heavenly fire
So burn me, burn me, til I die
My smoking, burning firefly

You'd think that I'd know at some point
Enough to not repeat my old mistakes
And not fall into the same traps and graves
You'd think I'd know that,
At some point

What excuses will I lay out to the future me
Will I say that I didn't see the signs
Though they were displayed in bolded lines
What words will I believe, to cover up for things
Mythomania, ensuring
I won't see through my lies


I always push it to the limit
I can never turn back in time
I have to chase the fireflies
Although they burn me with their light
I crave the bittersweet desire
To remind me that I'm still alive
I can't resist the heavenly fire
So burn me, burn me, til I die
My smoking, burning firefly

So maybe I was taught to be indifferent
And survive by aiding selfish needs
Never hope for the dawn
In case disappointment would come
So?

So maybe I was taught to live and pretend
And never be the one to be abandoned
It's better to attack than to defend
In case disappointment would come
So?


I always push it to the limit
I can never turn back in time
I have to chase the fireflies
Although they burn me with their light
I crave the bittersweet desire
To remind me that I'm still alive
I can't resist the heavenly fire
So burn me, burn me, til I die
My smoking, burning firefly

So maybe I wasn't taught like this, but differently
So?
Maybe I don't care how I was taught
Maybe I want to forget what made me
And maybe I want to chase the fireflies again
Just to see what'll happen in the end

I always push it to the limit
I can never turn back in time
I have to chase the fireflies
Although they burn me with their light
I crave the bittersweet desire
To remind me that I'm still alive
I can't resist the heavenly fire
So burn me, burn me, til I die
My smoking, burning firefly

POET IN THE JAR

Sculptures

Did you believe I was a written page
Ready to be read, laid out for your understanding
That you'd grasp everything right away
As if I was mathematics, as if I was formulas
That could be calculated
With all the rights and wrongs
That I possess

Did you believe I was entirely blank
And that anyone was free to sculpt me
From the block of marble
That I looked out through shiny eyes
That just had been made
I'm neither, I'm none
I'm half-created,
I'm half-done
And I can't predict myself
And I can't take care of myself
And I prefer myself when I'm decadent

And I prefer myself when I don't care

I can't go back and unwrite myself
Or unsculpt what was sculpted by others
When I didn't control my own world
And I can't predict what'll happen with the brush
With the typewriter and the ink
I can't predict what I'm going to feel or think

And you can't undo all your thoughts
All your words, all that you felt
That they cut your fingers while you knelt
So you should be exactly like me
And your story is as untouched
Most of it's a story to be

But you never begin on an empty page
And you never calculate it like mathematics
It's unpredictable, and unstable
And steered by many hands
At the rodder

And it's a flying ship in turbulence we crew
And it can sail through air and on the sea
Sometimes with, sometimes without you
Sometimes with, sometimes without me
And this rickety ship is life

And the serpent in the ocean is almost death
But only almost, with all the pretty gems it swallowed
Only almost, as it allows for our touch
Only almost, as we saw it die

Did you believe everything was mathematics
Did you believe that you were free from dreams
When I have seen you sleep
And you have the nightmares too
Even if you don't remember them
When you awake

POET IN THE JAR

Frozen Flower

I'm a little bit like a frozen flower
Requiring time and warmth to defrost
Waiting to open for the sun
Like a frozen flower
In the parking lot

I'm a little bit like a frozen flower
I'd rather you didn't pick me
With my roots intact
And plant me in a pot
On your window sill

I'm a little bit like a frozen flower
That always wanted to be a bird
I'd rather you tore me off at the stem
And let me drop from your balcony
And I'd pretend to fly
And be free

Exceptions

And when the frost ceases to be
It won't know what became of us
And the footprints we left in the grass
It won't remember you, or your dreams
And the things you've seen
What you and I have been

When the frost ceases to be
And turns into dew drops
It'll bleed under our feet, in the grass
And we'll see our faces in the dew
But it won't recognize me, or you

When the frost ceases to be
And the glittering pearls are silent
There is no sound when you walk
Across the grass
When the frost ceases to be
To make way for something new
It seems to forget me
But trust me

It doesn't make exceptions for you

Rorschach Test

These numbers on my hands
Do they say anything to you?
Or are they just markers
Reminders, like that little red string
Tied around your finger

And these letters, on my wrist
Is there a message somewhere
Hidden, that I failed to see
That used to mean something else to me
Are they still just letters?
Like written images in the wind

I really don't want to remember
Why did you have to remind me
And write these figures on my skin
I don't remember anything
Anything

What do these eyes tell you
They look different to me
In the glass of the mirror
And are these wings really wings
Or broken dreams
For decoration only

What did you want to symbolize
When you drew these lines
Can I paint them over
Will they bleach with time
For decoration, only

I really don't want to remember
Why did you have to remind me
And write these figures on my skin
I don't remember anything
Anything

What's that taste again
Taste of a falling heart
Falling in the darkness
But the darkness is just figures in ink
So many that they're sprayed together
Into one single rorschach test
What does it tell you
These numbers
These letters

Are they still just figures?

I now remember everything
Why did you have to remind me
And write these figures on my skin
Soaking me in my every sin
I remember everything
Everything

Sheesha

Doesn't all of it disappear
When the smoke parts from your lips
And forms circles in the air
With your fingers
Doesn't all of it go away?

When you become your own
More of a person you'd want to be
Nothing will trouble you
And you find yourself thinking deep thoughts
About life and yourself and everything

Although you can't put it in words to say
You know you found the answers
You were looking for
When the smoke parts from your lips
And the illusion is completed
The illusion that is the truth

Is it strange to long for another round
To pass the sheesha, from hand to hand
When it gives you a few hours of freedom
A few hours of liberation
To be carefree

Doesn't all of it go away?

And aren't you relieved?
So don't judge me
Until you've been me