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I believe in tragedy.
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13th-Oct-2007 05:15 am - shakespeare
today was a long long day... I spent hours with Tom at the police station this morning, it kind of sucked. I'm relieved now, though. I've been awake for a little over twenty hours which is sort of weird, considering I went to bed with a gigantic headache and too much tequila/homemade red wine/beer/god knows what else,.... in my blood - and slept around 4 hours.
I forget how well I sleep when I've had alcohol.
so this is it, I'm just kind of sitting around, reading bits and pieces of Twelfth Night until I pass out.




oh and I have booked my flight to London.
10th-Oct-2007 11:38 am(no subject)
believe it or not.
this is part of the reason why I left shitty city behind.
I get this bad feeling every time..like things will never get fixed. like the world is not big enough to contain all of the questions I want to ask.




happy birthday paperheart...
20th-Sep-2007 04:59 pm - drunk kid catholic
I am so TIRED.
it rains too often here, it washes everything away.
I feel like
falling asleep
on my philosophy books
and cutouts from norwegian newspapers.




every night there's the boy who waits for me
at home
home
home,
but where is home?
15th-Sep-2007 06:05 pm - left&leaving.
every second of this life my head hurts.
i can't breathe. I'm telling you I can't breathe and instead of space, air, time I get your hands around my neck.




Anna left.
I sat on a chair, dim lights in the kitchen. sunrays playing through curtains of clouds. staring into a mug of green tea.
telling you about why she's special; because we hurt together and for every fucked up boy we touched there was a collective laughter. for every line we wrote there was a promise hidden in the pages.

you keep me on that fucking pedestal, high above everything, even after i tell you i deceive, forget, stop feeling, stop caring. even after there's so much distance between us that you could have "transatlanticism" be our lifelong soundtrack.




I swallow my tongue before it tells you to leave.
the clock ticks, endless minutes coming closer to our goodbyes.




fourteen days is a long time living with someone who loves you whom you don't love back.









I like to watch your face change color when I whisper that I want to stay here forever and never go back. That I want to disappear from your life completely because I'm not worth the hassle, the hurt you're bringing upon yourself to try to fix something that's been broken for years.
you tell me my heart is beating fast.
I tell you I can't love anybody.
you say the green pillow makes light shine on my cheeks.
I say my head is aching from too much thinking.
2nd-Sep-2007 09:38 pm - sylvia plath.
how much confusion,... how much happiness, how many frozen hours like breath condensed on a window pane on cold mornings,..





I am thinking of the wrong one, at the wrong time,... in the wrong place.
you feel unfaithful just by wasting minutes of thoughts for someone who isn't worth it.
how much of your life have I missed out on when I decided not to return calls. how much anger is still hanging by a thread? why do I pick you, untarnished past, present and future, insecurity lost, thrown behind your shoulder? when there's you, dirt under fingernails from digging secrets and sadness where I buried them, so you can heal me?



she'd ash on the carpet and slip me a pill. and she'd get me pretty loaded on gin..
so, here we are... I didn't think it was ever going to happen.
five weeks, or maybe six weeks, into my new life, and I'm listening to the sound of the raindrops on a window of a last day of summer. Some will say that rain is self-explanatory in this city, I say that I've seen the most wonderful sunshine since I am here (one week and two days) - but there's a coast and the smell of the sea, even when I'm far away from the harbour, the underpass from the bus station smells like the sea, and when you come out on the other side, by the little lake, there's seagulls and you know that the ocean is somewhere close. there's a clear division between seagulls and pigeons - the first ones stay close the the water, the latter go as far as the little fence or even the grass, but they know water belongs to the other birds, it's weird, like marking territory, do birds mark their territory?

there's so much fog you can't see the mountains from here.
I've tried to write you letters and I've failed. I'm wondering how much I'll let this go on for, how many silences you will dig deep into, how many of the things I am not telling you you will be embracing, is that what happens when you love someone?
I just think of the promise with the empty envelope and the bracelet - our secret, is it a secret, or just a coded message for one recipient and one sender, only?
I just see you and the curb and an empty glass next to me and my lighter dancing in my hands as you tell me you love me and I don't react, and the most wonderful - most troubling - is that you stay, you stayed, you are staying, you will stay - even when I said nothing, I just nodded and bit my lip and said - what did I say? did I say I didn't? did I say, "I know"? or did I just keep my silence, did I tell you I couldn't love you back?










sometimes I want to write the story of my life, it would be pages with a lot of
B A C K S P A C I N G
and
S I L E N T W O R D S




..and anyway,
there would be sea shells too..



9th-Jul-2007 12:15 pm - a lack of color.
how do things start to be written when even your spoken words are tangled? I feel like Naoko from that Murakami book. the girl who can't say things straight.




I'm living instead.
I'm trying to feel but it's not easy.
we sit on the curb my glass half-empty and you tell me you love me.
I'm out of breath, my words are sore from using them too much.
I just say that I can't do this.
not now.
not ever. (at least that's how it feels.)





you stay.
you never leave.
you nod, like my rejection is some kind of formula known to the world and not a letdown.
you stay.
even when I say,
I should have met you years ago.
you're hurt and I see it.
but you still stay.
arm around my shoulders your lips on my cheek.





we have nine days left.
and then what?
then your heart breaks and mine takes a deep breath....
20th-Jun-2007 09:56 am - landslide, baby.
I've got your bracelet of colored wood beads around my wrist.
you pinned sonic youth on my New York t-shirt last night.
you talked about how thomas made you special edition Mineral pins for you and your ex-girlfriend.. you kiss me on the cheek and tell me I make you see the world in a different way.
16th-Jun-2007 12:12 pm - worldends.
I remember that summer a year ago.
that particular day.
it was so hot and time had stopped.
faint voices coming from below. we just laid on your bed.
your cat jumping on my knees. particles of dust flying in the light.





one year after.
you're another boy.
scene repeats.
bed. light. heat.
voices.



a record (CFD, boys life, mineral, hot water music) crackling on side A.
a stenciled Indian Summer card on the wall.
I run my hands through your records, your cds, your tapes.
I bite my lip when I see a handwritten DEATH AIN'T GLAM on a tape.
christian's band.
the extra second my fingers hovered over the clear plastic; you ask, "You know the band?"
I nod.
I tell you about christian's grandmother in Bergen; about how we can hang out next year and in summer because he goes there often. nothing more.
not about the letters, the absolute perfection I found in him, the things that hurt so bad. not even that it was his birthday yesterday.


..I've been wondering if I'm worth you.
at some point I'll have to stop pushing boys against the wall and making out under arches and streetlights.

I don't have anything left to give.
14th-Jun-2007 07:26 pm - sadder star.
christian's band is on tour again.
so close and so far.



I feel like nothing.
I'm not sad or anything. it's just the heat that pulls me under. I'm hibernating in the arms of a boy.
Once in a while he'll kiss me on the nose and on the mouth and I'll feel like I'm alive. or something along those lines.

monday night: we watched a drum and piano screamo post-hardcore local band. we climbed on top of an abandoned truck in front of the city hall. we sat by a pond quietly smoking cigarettes, listening to chirping birds. we laughed and pushed each other off the sidewalk. we made lists of our favorite records.
tuesday night: we tangled our fingers under streetlights. we lay in the playground and watched stars. we found animals in the shapes of clouds.
wednesday: we watched the kids play by the park. sat on the grass with mugs and tea. waved at blonde, blue-eyed babies.


my phone constantly rings.
i sit quietly on the floor my back to the door.
he whispers he wants to fall asleep next to me.
I say I've never managed to. I always keep my eyes open and stare at the ceiling.



I never wanted to be one of those.. he's pretty, he's cute. light-brown hair asymmetric in front of his eyes, he looks healthy and tells me about band practice. emerald-green converse shoes ripped on the heels and french hardcore band t-shirts.
but I'm so scared he'll feel too much and I'll feel too little.
it's already happened once.
it was winter, I told him about how I want to die in ten years and he promised he'd make me a mixtape with Mineral and Christie Front Drive. we went for a walk and right when I thought it was going to be okay, I moved away and told him I'd call.
and I never did.
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