The Weirdest Emptiness


It is funny!

I´ve got time.

I´ve got money!

Yet my life seems to include less and less.

This place gets more and more tomb like.

The last couple of years have been years of loss, escalating this year, ending me in an empty apartment that seems almost outside reality.

Loss of friends, loss of love, loss of confidence, loss of drive, loss of even the lust to do anything.

Everything outside these walls are worlds away and everybody elses lives jusr roll on.

I am in solitary confinement, an oubliette, left, forgotten.

Manic Street Preachers – Motorcycle Emptiness

BBC Maida Vale Studios, 4th April 2007

Stranger


As i bumped in to a couple of friends from Gothenburg it got all too clear too me how i am now a stranger even to that life.

I am between lives!

I dont belong or feel at home here and i feel totally cut off from where i was and what i was too.

It´s like i´m tainted by where i live.

Like it has rubbed off.

I believe that you DO get affected by your environment, though that can be for good too (good and bad often being quite subjective ).

Even at my worst i felt MORE then than i do now. I mattered. I wouldnt be missed, ignored or forgotten.

None of the main ingredients to my life are present now so am i really alive or is this place my tomb?

Btw, i have spent all nights, hour after hour playing Sherwood Dungeon and Rune Scape and it´s easy to feel how unsound it is.

In the absence of a real life i´ll have to take what i get.

They say “you can never go back” and i do believe that it is so.

Beautiful one:


You spirit.

Beautiful and original one!

Sitting there contemplating, what thought, what emotion, what part of self shall i grant them next?

 

Will they be worthy?

Will they sacrifice in turn?

Will they comprehend the sacrament of sharing enough to be as open as i have been?

Will they stand before the altar in in realisation that i am but a mirror image of them?

A person daring to open before persons?

Lonliness and the great pretence


As i look for poems on lonliness i find that even among the most known poets it is taken to be something rather positive, an oportunity for reflection, introspection, deepness and meditation.

That is not lonliness, that is being alone.

You can wish to be left alone.

You can not wish to be lonely.

I reflect or meditate best when there is something to reflect or meditate on.

My spirit needs food.

Gothenburg – Skillingaryd


I might speak alot along the lines of longing and that is since some years now i´m living in a little crap town (3000 inhabitants), a place i moved to for economical and practical reasons but dont belong in even a little bit.

My hometown

I come from Gothenburg on the Swedish westcoast, seagulls, goths, kinky clubs, secret fraterneties and a busy nightlife is my thing. I belong in a very social and urban sphere.   The reasons for why i moved here are in some cases still holding me here since moving would risk me losing what took me years to gain. As it is now i sit here in the dung, seeing the time go by and other peoples lives going on (on the web). Getting to the closest town is a whole adventure too, and the nightbus leaves for home at 2 am, clubs close at the same time (in Gothenburg i took the FIRST tram home, or wherever the case maight be, more often than not). I miss punkrockers, vampire LARPers, fetishists and people who are not wearing clothes solely to not be naked.

If i hear a snicker i will head butt you! Cafe´to the right, booze store to the left.

Style, exentrics, panache´, possabilities. The city is my element. Nighlife, meatings, music and beer. NOT pitchforks, children with webbed fingers and banjo´s (even if one could partly think so, the forks and fingers at least).