I know every thing about the future.
It was yesterday.
Whoever is walking around in my skin isnt me.
I was thinking of not writing here when i was in a dark mood but, hey, my blog = my crap.
I dont expect anyone to read anything they dont find remotely interesting.
So, for the third time i take the medieval carriage they call train here, into Jönköping.
Yet again to no avail.
Yet again someone, far more successful than me for some reason that must be among the greater cosmic mysteries, behaves like a retard and the whole poop land at my lap.
Perhaps i should form my own little gang of people with dwarfed lives:
And me, Left behindy.
Dreams and hopes are not only far away for me, they arent at all. I am in some phantom zone dream state outside of time and space, and life goes on without me….somewhere else.
I´m no longer sure it would make a difference if i moved.
I´m no longer me anyway.
Just someone pretending to be be me but not quite making it.
There are beautiful women!
Real head turners.
Hot girls with that little “extra”.
…and then there is her.
She that gives me no peace of mind.
She that occupies my core.
She who by simply the thought of kissing her can turn my whole body on fire.
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.
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.
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).