At the Bus Stop

I wanna go home, but the bus isn’t on time. Waiting makes me wondering, and I don’t like the feeling. However, here’s what I’m thinking: “I didn’t give you any virulent poison or anything, right? I wonder how you can fall so easily. I don’t like to lie but if I should, I think I could be so bitterly hostile and lie. I could just say I wanna die, I could just say I would always try. But hell no I didn’t even lie. And you would still fall quite easily. I know people think you’re a genius. How can a genius fall? You fall without giving any signal, you fall even day by day. Are you lost already? Am I making myself clear? Obviously not, since you’re still there on your knees.”

You’re Just A Victim of the Element of Surprises

“Turn back slowly,” I whispered to your left ear and put my gun behind your back. You didn’t even resist. You just gazed to the black asphalt of this parking lot. There were only few cars, they were all black and ridiculously looked shiny. I know you knew that it was the end of your time. Enough of running, darling. “You’re too tired.” I whispered again, and you nodded weakly, but didn’t say anything. “Turn back slowly, please.” I said it again, also to your left ear, pushing my gun deeper into your back. I could feel it in the air, you didn’t really know what to do – nor what to react. You were surprised of the fact that I managed to track you down. You were surprised that I can actually carry a gun around. You were surprised that that was the end of your gracious life. “You forget that I like the element of surprises.” You nodded again. But then you turned your body slowly, facing me.

And I just realised it was not you. It was somebody else. There was no viciousness in this person’s face. There was no spirit of violence in this person’s eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. I stood and thought for a few second before I shot this person right between the eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said. I cleaned up the mess and went back with my gun to the hotel room. I filtered a cup of tea and sat on the right side of the bed facing the bright sunlight from the window. I kept my optimism and thought to myself, “I’ll try to find you again tomorrow.” In a flash, the tea went cold and the sky outside turned into darkness.

Toilet Romanticism

This toilet starts making sounds when we flush these days. It sounds like there’s the Devil himself growling in despair.

One time, the electricity went out for one week in this toilet. It gave us reason for a candle festival.

I think black and white suits this toilet best since there’s nothing really special about it when you see it in colours.

Daily-wise, these images don’t happen that much – nor enough.

Dear Kathleen Dummkopf,

You are a very crazy lady and you know it. Yet, I still love you so much. And now I’m missing you, in fact (eller faktisk på norsk). I just received an envelope on my mailbox. It’s without the sender’s name, but somehow I knew it’s from you.

I remember you received NOK 200 on your mailbox couple of months ago, it was from a friend who work in the university. He owned you money for The Haunted’s ticket concert and didn’t managed to go but still had to pay, of course. I ended up accompanying you to the concert at Garage and get myself bruises from our excessive ‘dancing’. Anyhow. That guy sent the money through mail and I remember saying that I’d like to receive money as well on my mailbox. I remember saying it two times, or more perhaps when we’re drunk – I can’t really recall.

And that’s exactly what inside the envelope. A NOK 200. What so special about it is that it’s a hand-drawn thus makes it a fake one. I always think that you could also go to art faculty instead of spending years indulging yourself with law students.

I went to my room feeling down in the dumps (not because I want real money to buy milk and eggs, Kat) but because I miss my roommates! 

Home alone in Christmas can be really really suck.

Code name: α

Call me Alpha. I could be a woman I could be a man, doesn’t matter. What matters most is I am a friend. I’ve seen a lot through my eye: the world with flying colours, sadness, anger, grief, happiness, joy, silence, suspicion, love, hate, lovers, haters and so on. I’ve always been in a journey of life revelations, temptations, and most of the time, distractions. I have so much love. I’ve been given love. I’ve been touched by love. I see with love. I provide love. I’m the glow that illumines.

I am my owner’s belonging.

Jam Today Jam Tomorrow

Maybe I’ve tried some sort of determination. The allegiance of pain, I blame my adolescent. Maybe I’ll try going straight to my destination – letting go the multitude of trespasses. Million messages are your personal solitude. And you’re still too kind. And I go. And I try. And you’re still around.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Forget my questions. These are demands.

Well Well Well

I feel so amazed today, knowing that my hard-core pessimism, extreme laid-back behaviour and a bit of hard work eventually could go so well together.