Jeg hadde hatt en sånn her dag før. Noe var galt. Kanskje med meg. Det var kald. Klamt. Jeg sov nesten ikke, selv om jeg hadde vært kjempe trøtt. Hjertet slo fort og øynene flimret bak øyenlokkene. Jeg våkne hver time. Stirret på det blå lyset. Var hvit i ansiktet. Drømte om løs hud og harde knokler. Redd.
Redd for å miste han.
søndag 28. september 2008
fredag 26. september 2008
He said you're really an ugly girl.
I went to school today. But as I walked up the stairs, there was no way I wanted to stay. My mind played with me. Woke me up and had a laugh. I said hi to the office lady, signed in and went out in the street again. Thought for a minute. No clear thoughts. Bad girl. Filled with restlessness. All dressed up. And where to go? I needed this. I think. But I was far away from the power of my mind. Alone. I started to walk after the sun.
I went to a little expensive café. Sat down for a smoke and free newspapers. Ordered a beer. 09:15. Early. No breakfast. I was hungry, but again – there was no way I was going to eat. My language was spoken around me. I was thorn, thinking both it was comfortable and stupid. I watched them eating their “healthy” breakfast with bread, jam and beer. They looked like a boring business group, and I was right. The men in the group were looking at me. The women were thinking “What’s up with that little girl?” Maybe I looked sad. I don’t know. I left leaving the cute bartender girl a huge tip. Thinking I wanted to spend more money. I went to a shopping mall I have never been to before. So many nice clothes. I had my buy of the fall. A perfect scarf. And a dark blue boyish sweater. So comfy. I had to stop spending money, so I went to the movies. I love going to the cinema alone. I saw a movie I know my boyfriend wanted to see. I thought we might see it together sometime. But he isn’t here.
It was one of these supposed to be funny Hollywood blockbusters. It wasn’t so bad. I actually laughed a couple of times. And almost cried at the end. But that’s nothing special, I can cry for a leaf falling. Anyway. The movie didn’t do it for my spending money craving, so I went out to spend some more.. Tried on a lot of jeans. I’m a size 25, whatever that means to people. For me it means I’m as slim as I was ten years ago. When I was 14. Is that good? Is that bad? It’s good. Of course it’s good.
Around five I had to eat to my own disappointment. It always happens around that time. I get hungry. So bad. Like a wolf. I walked quickly to one of my favorite cafes. They have the best Fettuccine with beef, red peppers and cherry tomatoes. It was a lot of people there, but as always, when a lonely girl walks in the bartender payes extra attention. Like he wanted to eat with me and have sex with me afterwards attitude. It was actually weird with this place. I had been her many times in my life. With best friends, ex-friends, ex-boyfriends and my boyfriend - the love of my life. And now I was alone. My boyfriend. That isn’t here. When he left, I don’t know.. I like being alone. But not being happy alone. I like being sad alone. Some people just can’t be alone on a Saturday evening. They must be afraid of them selves.
I finished my beer. I was sick of all the food I ate and was longing for a smoke.
I went to a little expensive café. Sat down for a smoke and free newspapers. Ordered a beer. 09:15. Early. No breakfast. I was hungry, but again – there was no way I was going to eat. My language was spoken around me. I was thorn, thinking both it was comfortable and stupid. I watched them eating their “healthy” breakfast with bread, jam and beer. They looked like a boring business group, and I was right. The men in the group were looking at me. The women were thinking “What’s up with that little girl?” Maybe I looked sad. I don’t know. I left leaving the cute bartender girl a huge tip. Thinking I wanted to spend more money. I went to a shopping mall I have never been to before. So many nice clothes. I had my buy of the fall. A perfect scarf. And a dark blue boyish sweater. So comfy. I had to stop spending money, so I went to the movies. I love going to the cinema alone. I saw a movie I know my boyfriend wanted to see. I thought we might see it together sometime. But he isn’t here.
It was one of these supposed to be funny Hollywood blockbusters. It wasn’t so bad. I actually laughed a couple of times. And almost cried at the end. But that’s nothing special, I can cry for a leaf falling. Anyway. The movie didn’t do it for my spending money craving, so I went out to spend some more.. Tried on a lot of jeans. I’m a size 25, whatever that means to people. For me it means I’m as slim as I was ten years ago. When I was 14. Is that good? Is that bad? It’s good. Of course it’s good.
Around five I had to eat to my own disappointment. It always happens around that time. I get hungry. So bad. Like a wolf. I walked quickly to one of my favorite cafes. They have the best Fettuccine with beef, red peppers and cherry tomatoes. It was a lot of people there, but as always, when a lonely girl walks in the bartender payes extra attention. Like he wanted to eat with me and have sex with me afterwards attitude. It was actually weird with this place. I had been her many times in my life. With best friends, ex-friends, ex-boyfriends and my boyfriend - the love of my life. And now I was alone. My boyfriend. That isn’t here. When he left, I don’t know.. I like being alone. But not being happy alone. I like being sad alone. Some people just can’t be alone on a Saturday evening. They must be afraid of them selves.
I finished my beer. I was sick of all the food I ate and was longing for a smoke.
onsdag 17. september 2008
onsdag 10. september 2008
tirsdag 9. september 2008
mandag 8. september 2008
Disturbia.
Tar på den myke huden min. Ser på lårene. Blå. Klorer meg nesten. Puster. Holder langfingeren og tommelen rundt håndleddet. River i klærne. Suger inn magen. Teller ribbein. Tenker på en blondine. Vakker. Snur meg. Klør meg i det venstre øyet. Puster. Drar av meg kjolen. Hvit truse. Tre menn med hver sin fiolin spiller rundt meg. Jeg strekker ut armene. Griper i luft. Noen hyler etter hjelp. Jeg presses mot veggen. Før jeg strekker på de lange tynne beinene mine. Går på tå over det hårete gulvet. Åpner døren. Halv naken. En mann. Det lukter alkohol. Han vil låne vinduet mitt. Sier han skal hjem. Han kommer hjem ut av det. ”Du kan ikke komme hjem”. ”Men baby..” Han vet? Han vet. Som en uferdig symfoni. Jeg lukker døren. Ser ned på brystene mine. De er små. De er fine. Jeg knekker nakken og banker hodet i veggen. Er sløv i blikket. Fikk kuler i hodet av betongveggen. Puster. Mennesker. Jeg blir syk. Men det er ingenting galt med meg. Jeg stryker meg over rumpen. Så mange blikk mot den. Noe som alle har. Syk.
onsdag 3. september 2008
Find me.
”Livet er ikke det verste man har.” Det stod på en bok i et butikkvindu. Hva handlet boken om? Kaffe. En virkelig ekspert. En grimase for å vise at jeg ikke er så farlig. ”Cuse’ I was loving.. yeah loving someone else”. Lyd. Drar meg selv gjennom gatene. Det er vått mellom noen steiner. Sand kommer inn i skoene. Hopping og hinking for å få det vekk. Uoppmerksom mot folk og biler. Fin genser i en utstilling. Vaffel lukt og Manhattan Pizza House. Banan til frokost? Graffiti banan i Berlin hvert fall. Livet er selvfølgelig ikke det verste man har.
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