fredag den 23. april 2010

"She was in the circus too

We were both just ruthless, rootless scatterbrains

who felt most at ease in the vacant space

between this endless highway

and the next

We found each other

and found pleasure

in mirroring our existential issues

in each others souls

I don't recall the color of her eyes

just the image of myself

on their surface

We could put up with each other for a while

not for long

but a single, ageless summer

is still some kind of time, right?

It could have been so much worse"


"He was in the circus too

had dark green eyes, and black curly hair

Maybe that was what I fell for

the rest of him surely wasn't worth a second glance

He was a slacker, a space cadet

with the bag full of tricks and cheap philosophy

and I knew from the start

neither to hang in nor hang around

But through that single summer

we shared a present future

And a single summer

is still some kind of time, right?

Or at least a much-needed recess from real existence"
Jeg vejer mine ord på en guldvægt
før jeg siger dem videre til dig
så du skal ikke tage det så tungt
jeg mener det kun
hundrede gange mere
end du nogensinde får at vide
mindst

søndag den 18. april 2010

"The world always seems brighter when you've just made something that wasn't there before."

- Neil Gaiman
der er tomt i mit hovede
og uro i mit blod
der er eventyr på vejene
men jeg er for træt

søndag den 11. april 2010

nåmn du ved, det er bare sådan
en ualmindeligt bad case of
helt almindelig søndagsblues
så jeg gør hvad man gør
går lidt rundt om mig selv
drikker lidt for meget kaffe
fodrer nogle ænder
og tænker at
"i morgen er en mandag"
og så går det nok

mandag den 5. april 2010

med hovedet under armen

er jeg blevet kun min krop

og alle følelser er blevet sanser


torsdag den 1. april 2010

radio

der er ingen sange, der handler om mig for tiden
og det er også fint
det er andres tur
jeg gider egentlig ikke

tidlig sensommer

slå håret ud, slå blikket ned

og fortæl mig så at kærlighed

hænger løst på alle træer i skoven

stræk fingre ud, pak hjertet ind

flyv med den sidste sommervind

jeg tror du hører til et andet sted