My Vulture

Why am I so obsessed with you?
Your darkness isn't good for me
Drowning for you
Drowning in you

This sea is towering high above me
This castle too dark for me to climb
I watch from the bottom
of the bottomless well
You circle above me

You always were my vulture
I always died for you
You're waiting for me to fall
so that you can feast
I've been waiting for my fall
so that I can rest

Take every last bit and piece of me
That I hadn't already devoted you
Drive the cross through my heart,
like you already crossed my mind

Like you crossed my soul

Why am I so obsessed with you?
I'm a prisoner without a goal
Yet I'd rather die here in chains for you
Than trying to set myself free

You are the only free I'll know

A Woven Darkly?

I think I've fallen in love with my main character, once again. It keeps surprising me how he can be so goddamn dark, and yet express himself in such poetic ways; I think to myself I must have been drunk or stoned when I caught particular phrases out of thin air, guiding them to paper. Woven, that's his name, weaved by drops of dew in a vast ocean, weaved together by various fears and wonders, dark, dark, dark. A Woven Darkly should maybe the correct subtitle to either one of the novels?
Anyway. He simply says some things that seem to amaze me, and I wrote the damn thing. Once again I think to myself that writers don't actually write the books, only channel stories to paper. That is how I am still surprised by what happens, how I am still moved by what they feel, by how they're thinking.
There's so goddamn much of me in these pages. Half my heart and soul gone to them. Rest in peace, piece! I feel like a real novelist, and for once perhaps one that will never die.
Long live melancholy and darkness. Long live noir!
FJAERIL in the NOVELIST JAR

No Sidewalks Will Dry

I find it strange
that you are here, again
In the pools of rain
That you left me in

No sidewalks will dry
No wrongs will be right
I'm done with agony

I want your empathy

Pull your strings on me,
I'm your doll
You can play me by your fingers,
by your hands
I've tried to break loose
and become someone else
But without you I was nothing,
Even less, in the end

I find that strangely
I ran out of pain
I sang my refrain
That you left me in

No sidewalks will dry
No wrongs will be right
I'm done with blasphemy

I want your sympathy

Pull your strings on me,
I'm your doll
You can play me by your fingers,
by your hands
I've tried to break loose
and become someone else
But without you I was nothing,
Even less, in the end

No sidewalks will dry
I'll still be in the pools of rain
Pulling you with me down the drain

Light, Kites, Currents

Why are we so fascinated by the light...? When we know it will draw us in, blind us, rob us of our judgment skills, rob us of our everything. Why are we drawn to the sun? When we know we are safer in the dark, where we're invisible, where the cold is all around us, and hence won't touch us... Why do we peer up to the sky, trying to close our eyes, but we seem unable to... We let ourselves be drawn in, we let ourselves be caught, and again we're drifting in those currents, again we're letting ourselves fly with the dangerous kites. For a moment just to lift from the ground, without once thinking that kite will drop us twice as hard to hit the ground.
FJAERIL in the JAR

No More Lies

Maybe this time I didn't dress up.
Maybe this once, there was no disguise.
Maybe, this is plain me, no more lies.

Someone throws a glass bottle,
Someone is thrown across the floor.
All I know is that I'm shielding you,
That I'm pulling you away.

Can you tell this love
from other love?
You're not just anyone
That I really care of

I'll take you to another place,
Walk the pavement with you.
Hug you in the rain,
hoping to see you again,
Tomorrow.

What makes this love different
from other love?
You're not just anyone
That I really care of

I can't put my finger on you.
Why people see us together.
But where I'm the shadow you're the light.
I don't see myself without you, ever.

Can you tell this love
from other love?
You're not just anyone
I really care of

You're more than a friend to me
More than a sibling or a lover
You're everything that's still left
to discover

Can you tell this love
from other love?
You're not just anyone
I really care of
_______________________________

Jessie, you have meant the world to me.
You have inspired for this song.
I love you.
FJAERIL in the JAR

Number 9

I held a vision of you in my arms
A dream of a memory
Of what used to be
I held something here,
that resembled you
A breath, a sound, a whisper
And I remembered you

I held a blur of you, swirling by
Something I knew
A part of you
I held something here,
that reminded me
A breath, a sound, a whisper
That'll never be

You broke me like a china plate
Made me anxious, and desolate
I'm in line as number 9,
after the first eight
I'm done with us

I held a shard of you in my hands
A piece of horizon,
a thirteenth chance
I held something here,
that resembled us
A breath, a sound, a whisper
And I remembered us

I'm done with your breath
With the sound of your absent voice
Done with whispers of your death
When both of us died
Couldn't you have stayed quiet and lied?

I Even Took To Studying Lately

They're everywhere! It's like they're invading or something, or at least they're invading my mind. It's like when you could have gotten a dog and never did get one, you suddenly see people with dogs everywhere, taking walks, playing around, fetching toys, buying food; whatever is normal activities during the day for a person-with-dog. I'm not implying people are in fact dogs, or that the main reason to match up with a partner is to have them fetch toys and feed them (although the playing around part seems to be vital), however, the thought is the same.
I'm lonely, and everywhere there are the happy couples, like they're popping out to me from the crowd and looking at me saying things like, "You're insignificant", "You don't got what I got", "You're a failure", "You'll always be lonely"...

Truth is, for a long time, I didn't mind being lonely. Or rather alone. I didn't feel much lonely. That has been my way in life, always being on my own, and there's an artistic part of me that enjoys it. That likes isolation, that likes emptiness. If I am given enough space my creativity will always start to flourish, will always start to bloom. And a little space never hurt nobody (even if it's just an hour, in your room, doors closed; without, for once, anyone barging in wanting to borrow your PC, wanting help with their own PC, or just for you to join in on watching the latest Top 10 Sexiest Beach Bodies! on E! Entertainment Channel). Does it matter if that creativity comes out of bad things?

Quite the opposite... as always, the most beautiful and touching comes out of what is most miserable, and unhappy... something that never was, that should have been, something that never should have happened but did. And why? Because we know ourselves in flaws. We know ourselves as all but perfect. What reminds us that we're human, reminds us we're alive, reminds us we're all mortal.

I'm so antisocial right now, can't really face being with anyone. Since I redecorated my room I've just stayed in here, barely gone out. Everyone living here is complaining that I don't socialize and I'm just too tired to care. I even took to studying lately just to get a good excuse to isolate myself. Very rare! Right now music seems to be my only friend. I don't know why that is.
I feel weirded out cause I'm tired of no one being here and yet I can't seem to look anyone straight in the face. Want to come clean of every lie, ever told. And clear your charm of me.
FJAERIL in the PUZZLED POET JAR

Ghost Waiting

Why I am I still here?
Ashtray is full.
Air is cold.
I breathe puffs of smoke,
Waiting for you.

You're never here.

Why am I still waiting?
It's dark.
Lamp posts gone lit.
I'm in the dark,
Waiting for you.

You never get here.

Why did I walk you home
when you stumbled?
Why didn't I just leave you?

You would have done well,
Lying in that ditch,
Lying was your trade.

Why am I here?
Head full of traffic.
Bottle drank, and empty.
I don't breathe at all,
Waiting for you.

You'll never leave there.

I'm a ghost waiting
Waiting for you to die

Just as I

Drop Me Again

Suddenly you're curious
When I've given up on you
When I'm in my car,
waiting for you,
waiting to cry

About you

Suddenly you're here again
Though you gave up on me
You're holding me,
releasing me,
seeing me

Without you

Suddenly you're curious
When it's too late for us
When I'm in my car,
waiting for you

Knowing what stalls you

Your curiosity means nothing
You already left me here
Don't try to pick me up
I know you'll just drop me again

You'll drop me again

Temporary Mercy

Because you can.
Because something happens to you.
You feel powerful. Immortal.
It's a gun you hold to someone's head.
With a solid clench of someone's heart.
Maybe you never realize.
You could have killed me, long ago.
And left your grand plans for nothing.
I try not to listen to you,
my hand straying to your cheek.
My beaten hand.
Your words don't matter.
I imagine they're something else
that I see in your voice.
I imagine that gun is fear.
And your clench isn't really here.
In your eyes is nothing.
That mercy you show me
is temporary
and irrelevant, to me.
You keep me alive, beaten.
Because you can
Because something happens to you
You feel powerful

Still Riding That Wave

What happened to me? I skipped the actual exam today (although it seems my classmates did the same!) and headed straight for the retake in one month's time. And strangely, after that, I felt much more at ease, and studied 2 hours straight without any troubles at all. With this pace I'll have nailed this area quickly, hoping it will stick with me. Believe me if you will, but after two years at the uni previous of this, I believe I got quite good at assessing myself, and had there been any chance to pass this I would have given it a go.
But everyone is faulty, right? Or we wouldn't be human. Can't do more than my best.
Either way, strangely happy about this day. Still riding on that wave of being a novelist.
FJAERIL in the JAR

The Doll Of You

What do I need to know of you
to forget what I ever knew?
With a trembling curious shiver
Can I let go of you?

I kept the doll of you clenched in my heart
After your soul had long since gone
I kept using you as comfort and a cover
Even as I faded to you
And became no one

What do I need to know of you
to forget what I ever knew?
With a trembling curious shiver
Can I let go of you?

I kept speaking to you without answers
My voice still rang from these walls
I hid inside your memory, took cover
My ghosts returned to me
Scared, alone and cold

What do I need to know of you
to forget what I ever knew?
With a trembling curious shiver
Can I let go of you?
Whoever you were

I kept loving you when you hated me
Stayed awake, you sedated me
You belated me

What do I need to know of you
to forget what I ever knew?
Maybe you always were no one, like me
Maybe there's no difference to see

What do I need to forget?

More Than Everything

That's right. It's 5.26 AM in my room, and I just wrote down the last three lines of my second novel, More Than Everything. Since August, dear novel, you have dwelled between your tragic predecessor, and your dramatic heir. In between you were, cronologically, although still you've held the most meaning in my eyes, and the most wisdom. Maybe that's because we are built that way. It isn't the goal that matters but the journey that takes us there.
A few quotes from the novel, to round this longed-for post off with:

I would conjure to my heart illusions of what I most desired, reliving every moment as a fragile fragment, a broken shard.

Time does not heal every scar. But every scar, even as healed, will be our remembrance of the pain that caused them.

A world, made to escape another world.

GREETZ
The NOVELIST in the JAR

Back Side Of The Moon

I'm anxious again
When I've come home
From walking the pavement, alone
I'm postdrunk and anxious

I'm let down again
Even though I knew
You wouldn't open the door to my room
You're poststoned and depressed

I'm lonely and undressed

I never saw you,
at the back side of the moon
when I ventured there
I don't know what I expected to see
but there was only a mirror image of me

And your eyes didn't shift with mine

I'm anxious again
When finally I'm there
Been walking the pavement, lonely

And your eyes didn't shift with mine

Surrender Your Memory

I decided to fucking forget you already
I'd start over somewhere else
With pages blank and empty to fill
With other emotions and feelings to kill

I decided I'd stop fucking dreaming of you
Although I never wanted or asked of it to
Maybe in the emptiness left I'd sleep
Maybe in the emptiness there'd be something

I decided to fucking let go of you already
I'd never speak a word of you again
Pretending my voice isn't already sore
I went from a scream to a whisper

I won't remember who I did it for

If I leave you be, will you leave me?
I surrender your memory
Everything that never made us

I decided I wouldn't believe in your lies
I'd see nothing of what I see in your eyes
And the broken whispers wouldn't be told
The whispered promises wouldn't hold

I decided to fucking drown you already
Like you already smothered me
Or if it sounds like more of a thing I would do
I'll write another song of you

I decided to stop fucking writing of you

If I leave you be, will you leave me?
I surrender your memory
Everything that never made us

I won't remember who I did it for
I decided to fucking forget you

I don't remember
any more

Try To Work, Try To Function

I'm tired of dreaming, dreaming of you... tired of having to wake. Tired of never being free. And no one really gets me? I am told I'm wasting my time, I am told I spend everything on pleasures, I am told I'm cheap, I am told I'm not trying hard enough, school and work I should manage, what's wrong with me?
Yeah. I don't really wonder what's wrong with me. I know it's not in any way sane trying to head up at 150 percent, constantly, all the time. Pleasures? C'mon, for fuck sake. I'm just trying to cling on to this life, to this existence, where I'm nothing, really, without you. And I don't want to be. I try to be independent, and I try to work, I try to function; try to be that someone, try to find comfort in words, all I fucking do is trying, and it's never enough...
One more day of these and I promise you fellas, I'm gonna fucking crash.
Hitting the wall some time crucially soon,
POET in the JAR

In My Delusion

Who am I in the eyes of you?
Am I real, when you're looking back at me?
Once I was part of your hunger,
and part of your pain,
I was the sting at your finger

Am I real, would you know?
Even as I passed you by, or told you so
I have a different story than you
I fell with your rain,
I was the stone to drown you

I'm defined by what I sense
Reassured, and in a trance
But I'm never safe in my delusion

I speak to you, in a whisper
Would you tell it from a scream?
Could you tell your whispering memories
From what happened in a dream?
Were you ever real, to me

I'm defined by what I sense
Reassured, and in a trance
But I'm never safe in my delusion
Projected on the world

Who are you, in my eyes?
Are you real, when you're looking back at me?
You're only what I know of you
And what I assign you to be

I'm defined by what I sense
Reassured, and in a trance
But I'm never safe in my delusion
Projected on the world

They All Say (Audio Video)

Another song up for you, I chose out of those that were fairly recent. They All Say is a song about feeling weak, when everyone else believes you're strong. Thank you for listening.
POET in the JAR

Mimicing Romance

I don't know who you are anymore,
and you don't really know me
Both of us grew anonymous,
head over heels with free
I thought I was somehow special
You fed my makebelieve

Again, there it is,
and I hide away and leave
Trying to safekeep
just a little part of me
Again, there it is,
you take your every chance
Kill me again, with something
mimicing romance

I gone lost in what to do or how,
and the light in the lighthouse faded
Both of us steered blindly,
I touched you, you were jaded
Don't fool me again that I'm special
You made dead my makebelieve

Again, there it is,
and I hide away and leave
Trying to safekeep
just a little part of me
Again, there it is,
you take your every chance
Kill me again, with something
mimicing romance

I'm a wreck for you to fire your cannons through
About all that I ever was to you
Forget about the rest

There isn't anything left

When All Pretending Ends (Audio Video)

Since normally I'm very shy with my singing, putting this up took a lot of guts of me. It's merely a quick recording of one of my most recent songs When All Pretending Ends, without instrumentals yet, so my voice will be even more noticeable (oh my, what am I doing?)... Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it, then maybe I'll record some more of my songs.
Oh and if anyone feels up for it, I'd be glad if anyone wanted to help out with the instrumentals. I'm simply not skilled enough on the guitar yet so any ideas are welcome. At a few places in the clip it might seem like I'm hesitating a bit. I was. I don't record my singing a lot, if I'd had more time I would have perfected it.
Ok, so trying this now, hoping you're ready, that I'm ready, and also hoping not to be completely dissected.
POET in the JAR

Nothing, Something, Everything

Don't text me again even if I text you first
And don't call me round the bend
When you're only drunk
Even if I called you first

I told you I wanted nothing
Then expected something out of you
When everything fails on me
You can have me

But don't help it along

Don't answer me if I'm trying you
Don't look at me that way and then look away
You're only irresponsible
Even if I was so before you were
This way will only get us hurt

I told you I wanted nothing
Then expected something out of you
When everything fails on me
You can look at me

But don't help it along

Don't encourage me

And you can't have me

Morning Angst

Woke up with the normal morning angst, just about to get ready for work... Today is one of those days when I've had the strangest of dreams and feel reluctant to leave bed, to leave house. Don't ask for much, just maybe not to be constantly going on at a rate of 145 percent... To relax. Don't know. Just do things, glide along.
Write.
Think.
And my Ipod died yesterday, so walking to the parking lot will be a bore. Music really is what saves me from thinking too hard you know. I don't wanna be anxious anymore. I don't wanna feel these strange things and have voices inside my head telling me I'm good for nothing, for no one. I don't wanna be bitter. I want to laugh again, to be sunny, to dream. To not see everything I've dreamt of slip away through my fingers just as I've finally caught it.
Respectfully, but only having 16 minutes to go,
THE POET in THE JAR

When All Pretending Ends

The times that matter are the times you've fallen
When angst and despair is there
The times that matter are the times I've fallen
When all pretending ends

That's when I really see you
And I really hear your voice
When you call me up and pretend
I was your only choice

In fact you were scared
And you knew if anyone I would be there

The times that matter are the times you've fallen
When angst and despair is there
The times that matter are the times I've fallen
When all pretending ends

Tell yourself you're living life
And that it's precious
You won't need me
In the place you are

In fact you always needed me
Even when I told you so
And you denied it

The times that matter are the times you've fallen
When angst and despair is there
The times that matter are the times I've fallen
When all pretending ends

Maybe somehow I'll make it through
Maybe somehow aided by you

Maybe I won't
And maybe I won't really matter

But I'll have believed
And even when you were miles away
You were never too far away to save

The times that matter are the times you've fallen
When angst and despair is there
The times that matter are the times I've fallen
When all pretending ends