after two weeks in greece with panda, I'm here again.
the city that pulls me into its waters at night. with the grey clouds overhead.
in greece I broke into an abandoned hotel.
I did my project there.
it will be a book.
before or after lunchtime the light was good for photos, and besides the little seaside town we were in would be asleep for a few hours around then. I could climb in through the ground floor windows and run across the hall up two flights of stairs, almost undisturbed, with all my equipment jumping up and down on my back.
funny to meet two boys from my university there, in that sleepy place.
one of them scared me, a little, because one night I stayed out on his porch with him, drinking, while panda was asleep, and oh - I saw something slightly out of focus in him, somewhere; kind of what or how I used to be before I moved away. this kind of black hole.
last week, before TC flew back to LA, we hung out. he showed up with Mike, this kid I had not seen in ages. I was constantly singing panda's praises, because he's my hero, I let everything pour out of me again, and then suddenly I recoiled; for half an hour I sat in a dark corner, did not speak a word, just drew. Mike was so labyrinthine with his words spreading over me like tentacles, I almost stopped breathing, I almost would have run away, in the end I left him at the bus stop, dropped by another pub, dragged myself here and there but really all I wanted was the silence, or the quiet of being alone, so my walk home was a relief, bitten lips and smelling of smoke, 5am like blood brother had predicted; I said goodbye to the sky before closing my eyes..
- Music:VNV Nation: Beloved
I feel like I'm late with my period, even though technically I'm not. I feel exhausted and irritable and annoyed and I feel like no one is worth my time.
They had my grandmother's funeral without me, and I just found out, and I'm angry. because WHAT THE HELL? Come on. It's just a bullshit flight from Norway to Italy and back. it's not a BIG FUCKING DEAL. it's like I'm fourteen again, my mom not mentioning that my cat had died because she didn't want to ruin the birthday party I was at. except much worse.
my grandmother died alone.
We left her city when I was 5; pretty much since I can remember, she's been sick and we've been away. For seventeen years, I saw her once a year. yes. seventeen times in my life have I seen my grandmother, pretty much. and I MISSED HER FUNERAL. it's a big fucking cosmic joke, that's what it is.
I want to sit here and stare at the ceiling and squint my eyes until it starts glowing red.
- Music:sonic youth: superstar, on repeat
this city is starting to feel more and more like the one I was in before. I have 6 weeks left before I leave, even though I haven't booked my flight yet. I know it will feel weird to not see Ana on a regular basis, to wake up to the river flow and not the distant smell of the sea. It will be awkward not to hear the seagulls as I stagger home with a light heart, slightly drunk or painfully tired.
I (almost) ended my friday night (dreadfully against my will) dancing at cafe opera. DANCING. yes, that's right - and it sounds wrong. I stupidly took a boy home, too. he was wearing a red t-shirt and was a marine with grey-green eyes and a very insensitive behaviour. not that I was being sensitive at all - but once he fell asleep in my bed, 8:30 am, girl sat on a chair in the kitchen, chin on knees, and finally spilled the million tears that had been threatening to come out for, oh - at least two weeks. girl messaged panda, words dripping with self-criticism and self-pity but without waiting for an answer, she fell asleep into green-eyed-boy's arms to wake up three hours after, with poetry from panda on her cellphone screen and, having kicked boy out of bed and out of the house, she had coffee with dodo.
dodo, the awkward and spaced-out almost androgynous boy she'd met the night before, on the street, just because, just because.
they stared at each other over tall and empty iced coffee glasses. he made the mist in her head disappear slightly, or spread over to the edges. they talked about everything, then went for a vegan barbecue, and at 10pm, with the sun still in the sky and the taste of raspberries in her mouth, she waved him goodbye as he plucked guitar strings on a friend's sofa.
I saw the boy in Paris. the one who was so beautiful, he made summer days look ugly. the one who stole my heart inadvertently at a house-party - he stood there so gorgeous and quiet like a drunk rockstar.
we met at a carrousel near my hotel. we sat at the terrace of a café, watched the people walking by. I was nervously twisting and untwisting my straw. I was scared of losing. I still am. his heart is so far away. I wish it could just be solved with a phone call and a smile and me dropping everything and moving to paris and starting over - again - because I'd really like to, not because of him, but because vienna scares me. the darkness of the waters and the depths at which I drown in bars. I don't want a knight in shining armour but a traveller with dark eyes and his cute nose and messy hair.
C wrote my name in the toilets of their venue in vienna and wrote me a card from tour. he drew an owl so punkrock and cute, my heart just jumped when i found it in our new mailbox but, so what? he's just a boy and when I met him I was weak.
I am going to a lot of barbecues reading a lot of books writing postcards longer than my autobiography and meeting boys at people's houses and discussing music with older more experienced kids..I'm drifting. I want someone to hug,
I can't wait to see panda in september.
- Music:whiskeytown, elliott smith
this afternoon we're going to see what might be our new flat. it's in the city, there's a veranda, it's right behind bryggen. a dream. I don't want to jinx it. but I really want it. so bad.
the girls made me this lovely bunny rabbit for my birthday; I named him Knud. everyone is so lovely around here. stavanger was weird. in the pictures i look happy... I took pictures of C, so many, because he is mucho photogenic.
maybe I'm going to greece with panda in september. it would be ace.
heartthrobs mean nothing to me anymore but I am really enjoying the time spent with ryan-adams-boy - he makes me giggle, happy, and we talk, and he kisses me on the cheek, and it's nice.
- Music:LCD Soundsystem - Great Release
I am trying so terribly hard to concentrate and get things done.
I met a boy at a japanese party last week.
he was slightly drunk, he poured me a gin tonic, I gave him a cigarette.
I told him he looked like ryan adams, but better.
the old me would have kissed him.
the new me takes things as they come; no more awkward desperation, no more drowned sorrows in alcohol, no more fights with the ghosts and the girl in the mirror.
I have a plane ticket to go see C in just two weeks.
last night he sent me a text message about the stars.
the band is playing in sweden 4 days before that, I just found out. if he's not back by the time I arrive, I guess I will get angry, and then sad, and then frustrated, and then I'll say, "oh well." and get really drunk in the jacuzzi of the cabin where the people I'm going with are staying..
I'm supposed to be working on:
submissions to festivals this summer/magazine artist features
general, life plans
all the documentations from the last two projects
my individual project - I have a tutorial next week
writing a letter to panda
instead I am:
listening to a lot of music
craving a cigarette
looking out of the window
taking pictures of my hair
thinking of johannes and wondering where he is now
panda is feeling lonely - i think - i can feel it over the airwaves. isn't it strange? he called me last week - i think it was last week? the days are such a blur. he just said it felt nice to hear my voice, my sentences got trapped in my throat, so instead of choking on them, I asked how he was. romania is still the same. norway is still the same. it feels like I am stuck to a spiderweb and I can't untangle myself.
- Music:great lake swimmers
oh, the frustration...
why do people make you smile and make you reach a perfect sky right on time to drop you on gravel on a perfect day of spring? waiting makes my heart go crazy with deception.
I tried to forget
but memories are like tattoos
I carry them with me
my body is a diary
it might not show it right away
but it remembers every day
I write on paper not my skin
read my arm like poetry
scars cover memories
they keep them safe, lock them away
I carry them with me
my body is a diary
read me like poetry
my body is a diary
this week was a spiralling up and down, in out and about.
I'm going to Oslo next week, kind of hoping to stay at Tyge's even though I feel bad taking over their couch and Margit the cat for a whole week.
My heart is healed like whoa; it screams at the wonderful sunshine (okay, so today is the first grey day since last week) and dances in my chest because it's free. I'm slowly getting rid of my R. guilt and C. co-dependence. the latter is like a drug but I'm in rehab; also because he's in guatemala now, also because he's less of an ego-tripper and more of a human, also because I don't believe in boy-perfection, also because I feel better with myself and no one else.. also because I am too busy to be hoping for a card or some news.
I'm reading a lot of books and pretending I can draw.
I'm drawing a lot of ribcages and thinking of the swiss boy and his marble creatures.
I'm listening to dirty punk and thinking of my Berlin date, the one I promised to kiss again no matter what no matter when. Lately my memory plays me tricks. fast-forwarding through incomprehension and sadness and pausing at every frame on the movie of us happy in the february sunlight. has it already been two years? it feels like eternity goes by so quickly. anyway, so I miss him more than I have in months. I don't mind keeping it that way.
Panda is also missed, because the days pass so empty of surprises without him; no book talk and quiet drives, no hanging around at night. I keep my memories and feelings to myself, unhappy things are pushed under and laughter surfaces with the new people I've met.
it's really over.
and we're both moving on, and in different directions, which is almost okay if it wasn't for the fact that after months of sharing everything, masses of fears, and tears and blood, there's nothing left.
how easy would it be, drunk, to get to the phone and dial a number and tell him it's over? this is not even about me and christian anymore; how I had those perfect fantasies of us hanging out after he came back from tour and realising we're soulmates. going for photography-walks at 4am, watching the sun rise close to Prekestolen, waiting for the rain, going to the shows, going to the ocean.
it's about how I feel so wrong for this. like R is making me a dress which I already know won't fit but I'm doing nothing to prevent him from wasting time and money and raw material on it. and he's far and I don't feel the distance.