snow

Fragments of memory: grains of conciousness
Flakes of snow swirled through
the darkened layer of sky, and
came towards me as a breeze of
night,

It was the first snowfall of the year
So, it's official: autumn is over.
It is a strange thing, even at the age of nineteen,
the age of which the body starts to disintegrate,
and slowly fall into decay - it still strikes meas magical.

I stood entranced and delighted at each flake to
land on my face and melt into a watery kiss,
shaped and delivered as a
tear,

My mother and father wanted to watch
"50 years of Eurovision Song Contests"
as if that is something to celebrate,
as oppsosed to repress and deny -
while I wanted to watch
"Eternal sunshine, of the spotless mind"

*

Today: the day after the first snowfall:
{Random Thoughts}

I was applying mascara
making my lashes spidery
and exsistent,
when I contemplated on
the prospect and meaning
of good-dark and evil-dark,
and wondered whether vampires
are considered evil by the
teachings of wicca and
nocturnal witchcraft.

There is a little snow left
on the ground outside.

The lip gloss is sticky
it reminds me of a poem
by Viggo Mortensen.

Last night I couldn't sleep again, my back hurt too much
I've even got the shadowy puffy eyes to prove it,
mascara or no.

*

Despite that one of my favorite monaboyd fics
is really just about sand - and the coplexity of it,
the many colours to be found in it - I still agree
with Joel when he says that sand is overrated.
That it is just tiny little rocks. It is. And I don't like it much.

But is snow overrated then as well? Because I like snow better.
It's cold and before it hits the ground and is stomped around,
it's clean and perfect. Like tiny fluffy cristals, swirling through
the air, dropped from the sky.

Although, that each and every snowflake should be unique,
that there isn't two that is exactly identical, that's just RIDICULOUS -
How would you know? Who'se gone around the earth and checked?
Stupid. But I like snow. Up 'til January I'll like snow. Then I'll start to hate it,
but that's just tradition. I don't mean anything by it...

Might go out and play with my best friend later - oh wait.
I've passed the age barrier of nineteen, I am no longer entitled
to the magic of childhood, but fuckit. Who want to be adult anyway?

I'm a puffy-eyed goth child - with cerise lip gloss.
and daddy's cooking me breakfast - at 4.04 pm.

some inspired thoughts on divinity and other usual stuff

Today I was at the Centre for Flexible Learning - and finally it's lived up to its name! Bengt is a magnificent teacher and I felt so inspired and exhilarated after we'd quit for the day and I was walking to the bus stop. It was sunny and there were fallen leafs all around me and it was just so beautiful, and I was so full of inspiration and thought and emotion.

When I sat on the bus I took out "Angels in America Vol. II" and read a few scenes, and suddenly I had my first angelological epiphany, well more like a philosophical idea really, but I wrote it down the minute I got home anyway and I posted it as an entry in my other-LJ, which is more of a writing project than an actual journal { my_first_life } and you can read it here.

Also I got the magazine which published three of my poems in the mail today. Haven't had a time to read it just yet, but it seems really interesting. I'm going to book a train ticket to Gothenburg now, still can't really process the fact that I'm going to the Poetry Festival! I think it will be so great!!

Oh, and I watched Kingdom of Heaven last night, just bought the DVD, and thought I'd watch it when I still couldn't sleep at three o'clock. So I was up watching that 'til five this morning - and I have to say, I hadn't really expected it to be more than average, you know. But I thought it was really just so great! So I'm coaxing my family into watching it tonight. Yes, I want to watch it two nights in a row. I've watched most movies more than ten times, and a few I've even watched up to five times in a row - A home at the end of the world, being the most recent one.

hungover and lost

Friday, after having been at CFL in the day and experienced Bengt for myself and concluded that Yes, he really is great... and so, No, the course will not have been a complete waste of time... - me, Fredde and Tessan went for a coffee afterwards.

Then I went home only to return later in the evening. We all gathered at Fredde's and watched National Treasure. Then we smoked on Tessan's waterpipe ('s that its name? you know, big vase-looking thing with a hose-like device which you suck on to inhale the smoke from the tabacco on top? Often used to smoke heavier stuff, but - and I want to point this out clearly to avoid awkward misunderstandings: we did not. Just regular tabacco - with melon flavour and all! ::grins::)

Jenz dropped by, just arrived from the military base-place, and he'd come directly to Fredde's so he hadn't had a chance to change into his regular clothes... which we obviously prevented him from doing once he got there, as well!... we all smoked and watched "Happy Tree Friends" on the internet, and then we all got restless and decided to head downtown for a bit... The main street was crowded with drunk teenagers, which was rather amusing to watch for a while, but then became quite tiresome, so we headed back to Fredde's again.

I took the night bus to Ljusne, and when I got home I fell asleep once my head hit the pillow. When I woke up the next day, I wrote this poem.


{ 3 o'clock last night. }

The night was beautiful in its
swirling inconsequence to
the population of bodies asleep
I was steady in my walk, yet
I tumbled slightly once in a while
due to the bleak darkness surrounding me
I tried snapping a picture of
some golden light displayed
on the outside wall of the village church
but I was trembling from the cold
and it all ended up in a blur

:

Then I was walking past
the little wood next to my street
and I paused at the sight of
a common maple in the midst
of birches and willows,
Startled by the way its leaves
were hit by some sourceless light,
which made them glow
in the dark,
as dots of silvery white
beckoning me to be near them

:

And then I sank through the
darkness and buried myself
beneath the cool covers of
my chilled bed,
the cold around my nest
still reaching my bones,
as I fell asleep with a slight tremor
embracing me

:

My dreams were abstract
images of starry skies in
the middle of the day,
and I woke up sometime
in the afternoon, with a
curious feeling of
happy remorse
knocking at the inside of my chest

::

i.e. Saturday morning 2005.10.08 (Jenny's birthday!)

So, moving along onto Today: Saturday Me, Fredde and Tessan went to Gefle in the evening, to see Jenny obviously since it was her nineteenth birthday!

The train was an hour late because another train had hit an elk earlier and the poor thing had somehow managed to get its hoof stuck inbetween the two tracks so ours couldn't switch over to the other which lead to Gefle. They finally worked it out and we reached our destination eventually. Fredde phoned Jenny and told her to come out on the balcony, and then we sang Happy Birthday to her from he ground!

We went out to a club later on, called Aqua: it was far from crowded, the drinks were expensive and the music shitty - but we had a good enough time anyway!

Although I was stupid enough to suggest to Jenny that we ought to order Vodka/Cola's instead of beer, just for the hell of it and old times sake (cause that's pretty much the only drink we had when we were interrailing in europe) and she agreed whole-heartedly, so even though I didn't even get intoxicated last night (it was only that one drink and then a few beers - because that was enough, besides it was expensive like I said...) I had a killer hangover when I woke up this morning...

I just cannot stomach liquor! I thought (being utterly daft and all) that it was only tequila that I can't stand, but apparantly it's vodka too! (and I am so not going to try any other sort just to find out what else I can't manage... I'll stick to beer from now on if it kills me!)

::

And now I'm just reading fics on the LJ comunity "lost_slash" and debating with myself whether or not I should call it a night...

autumn contemplation

I went out on Friday and had a jolly good time with my friends, even though the only intoxication I experienced was slight rush of fever which prodded me to take an early bus home, whilst my friends were quite a lot more than a little tipsy. But it was fun and everything, and I really wanted to stay on but I knew I'd regret it if I would, so I went home at midnight.

Sure enough, I've been feeling really weak and feverish since then, although my temperature's not that high so I'm not exactly dying here or anything, I'm just very very frail (not to mention hypocondriac) and my eating and sleeping habits have been really odd lately... I think I need to have more vitamins or something simple as that...

Anyway. I've been looking through my swedish poems (I'll deal with the english later) especielly the more recent ones, and I've been trying to tell whether or not I can put them/some together in a collection. On my walk today (I've been forcing myself out on walks at least once a day recently, because I need the fresh air as well as the exercise/movement) I strolled in the woods behind the cemetery and then proceeded up the northern hill, and I "wrote" a poem, in english - in my head, about grandma's funeral, and after I'd written it down properly when I got home and edit it a bit, it turned out alright...

I really haven't done much since my last entry. Mostly I've just scribbled and read in various books/slash on the internet, and watched a few movies. Tomorrow I'm going to have to go into town, because I need to have a word with my caseworker at the job office about some forms... I really rather stay at home, not because I'm lazy or anything, but because I don't feel really social at the moment. Sure I prefer to have at least one member of my family nearby, because I feel really lonely as well, but with them I don't have to put on an act of some kind, and be interesting and attractive and fun - like you feel you have to in public, or with friends (or at least I do), or even an act of civilry if you're in a bad mood. Because they're family, if you know what I mean, so you can just be yourself - or less, which it feels like I am right now...

I can tell you one thing though, it is definitely autumn now. Whenever I try to write something, especially poetry-wise, I end up describing the season because that's almost all I think and feel at the moment, because it's so unbelievably beautiful! The colours and the light, the feel of the cool fresh air, the smell of rain and grass and earth, the frightful anticipation of what is to come... I think autumn, at least during the brief time of its peak, is the most beautiful season. Because it's so vividly alive at the same time as it's obviously falling apart. Even before arriving, it's already moving away again.

I think if I were to be a seaon: if my personality or my life was to be described in the metaphor of a season: I'd like it to be autumn.

Because autumn comes thundering into the picture, changes everything abruptly - bright and breathtaking with life and firery colours and freshness and energy - and it is literally as though it sets the world on fire upon its arrival - and as opposed to fading away ever so slowly into a withering weakness which gradually becomes a nothingness eventually replaced, it chooses to let go and fall (and I could easily draw a parallell to a certain angel here, but I don't think I have to...) and then it's past.

The time inbetween autumn and winter though I think is the worst season, the nomansland of watered down dullness of greys and browns, and not much else to speak of. Just a long painful wait of the relief of the first snow. But that's the beauty of my little metaphor - no-one thinks of that time of the year as autumn, they consider it a sort of space in between that and the next, as if the loss of such a vibrant and vivid - season in this case - is in need of a particular long period for healing and grieving....

Now, who wouldn't want to be an Autumn-sort of person?