Tortures of the damned

I like to sit outside during storms. It makes me a part of something both beautiful and destructive.

Why do I keep going back to what I know hurts me? Why do I try to convince myself to feel things I don't really wanna feel? Why won't I ever be free of you?

I'm staying with my parents for the summer and me and my mother are already getting on eachothers nerves. We're not a good combination.

Friday is midsummers eve and it's been two years since I was the happiest girl in the whole world. A lot can change in two years, huh?

Fuck staying still

My feet are itching


I need to move


 

I'm like a rollercoaster ride without safety or emergency break... With cotton candy in my hair.

I stopped believing in God before I was old enough to know what God was.

Weren't we brought up to believe life was more than this? I turned twenty but I believed someone made an error along the way. I've lived a hundred years. What's another day when I've lived a million?

I think there is a greater purpose to my life. I refuse to live like this for the rest of my life because this isn't a life. I need adventure, travel, excitement. I need to feel alive. If I have to fight for that, I will. Will you help me? Will you be my help?

My birthday came and went and I didn't really notice it. I can't believe a year passed already, it feels like just a couple of days. 2008 went by like lightning and I'm not sure I managed to save all the memories and emotions. In one way, I'm happy I didn't. There are so many things I'd like to forget.

I'm desperatly afraid of dying but at the same time it's something I long for. I might now know what's on the other side but sometimes it doesn't matter, cause nothing could be worse then this. My well being is somewhat compromised, but at the same time I feel good. It's weird to feel opposites, it feels like I'm dragged apart by a force, a lot stronger than myself.

My desperate attempt to grow roots somewhere else has succeeded, even though I know this isn't the right place for me either. I can't be still, I need to go, my body is screaming at me to go now but I can't. I made promises and I intend to keep them. I will count the days until I'm free again.

I have a plan in the back of my mind for this summer, to run, and not tell anyone where I'm going. I've been known to go to other countries without knowing where to stay for the night and I always manage to find somewhere. Maybe this summer will be the one.

13/2-09

Today, I visited a city I haven't seen in years. I stepped off the train and realized this was the exact platform I once waited for my friends on a long time ago. I was shocked, choked on the smoke in my lungs as the memories came flooding back. Suddenly I was 14 again. Suddenly I wasn't going home, I was 14 and running away from home. It's been six very long years but I remember the days in this city so clear, like it was yesterday. Does that mean I haven't changed? I'd like to believe I have because I wasn't very happy back then. Am I happy now? I know the friends have changed and that they're not friends anymore. If we met on the street I doubt they'd recognize me. I wonder if I would recognize myself.

Yesterday was a bad day. I paniced, a panic attack that stretched over an hour. Hyperventilating, crying, screaming, scratching, trying to take the bad things away. I hadn't felt like that in a long time and even though I know what triggered it I can't remove it and I'm sure it will happen again, sooner or later. It won't ever go away.

A screwdriver became my savior, and then a friend who hugged me and got me in a better mood. Later, storytelling over the phone to fall asleep to.

It's your birthday today. I won't be on your mind a single second of today. I don't know if it makes me sad or happy.

Please just save me from this darkness.

(the first time that I felt connected to anything)

Happy birthday.

I'm not in love with you anymore. I was, for a very long time, even though I told people I had moved on. It's been a year since we last talked and I almost forgot what you look like. I forgot your smell after six months and it made me cry. I will always love you in a strange way, even though we hurt each other so much. This writing isn't very good, I realize that, but my thought about you have never been very clear. That's what you did to me, from start to finish. Confuse, confused, confuse.

Tell me I'm able to move on.

Do you remember the night you called me crying? Did you feel the unspeakable that night? How we suddenly were the bestest of friends even though we hardly knew eachother before? Suddenly, it was just you and me and we never questioned it. It was like lightning struck, like it was meant to be. I know you remember.

I remember how you came to my house and had dinner with my parents and we were.. perfect. Yeah, we were. The bestest of friends and nothing could get between us. We were "<" and "3". I have that tattooed on me now.

We're not like this anymore. I thought about it the other night, when I couldn't sleep. I wonder what it was that killed us. It wasn't you, it wasn't me, it was love. I think we loved eachother too much and we never wanted to admit we were ever wrong. I guess emotions can kill the strongest of relationships.

My sleep isn't sleep, it's exhaustion. When I sleep, it's not resting, it's running away. I wake up more exhausted then when I went to bed. I move in my sleep, up and down and backwards and forwards, trying to find the place where I'm not alone, where there's someone next to me, holding me, whispering that everything will be okay. My bed is big, and I investigated every inch of it, and I still haven't managed to find that place.

I haven't slept for 14 years.

You never made any promises and now you're making other plans. I can't blame you. How could you ever answer the questions I was too scared to ask?

I had a dream where you said you loved me. "I love you". When I woke up those words stung more than anything. I don't think you'd ever feel that way and even if you did I don't think you'd tell me.

Take me by the hand and tell me you'd take me anywhere..

The drunken wisdom of this entry will be gone in the sober tomorrow.

Change is a strange word. Change is something I'm scared of but at the same time it's something I embrace fully. In less then a month I'll be leaving. Moving away from this city, moving to a new place, another town, far from here. It's frightening and wonderful and crazy, but I'm looking forward to it. Somewhere new to let my roots grow.

I'm struggling inside with questions and wonders and choices. No one wants to be the girl I am right now, no one wants to be that "woman". I never planned to be, but I am. I don't know how to accept that you'll never be mine. I know there's something special but as always I hope for too much.

I wish I could stop time.

I'm still bare feet
still fourteen
still questioning
still curious
still me

I never found my answers

I get it. I annoy you. I'm in your way. You have much more important things to do.

But know this; I could break you. So damn easy.

Someone says I worry too much. Someone says I still need help. I wonder if I ever got help or if I just pulled myself up. I'm guessing it's the latter. I never got a diagnosis, I just got guesses. That's all my life has ever been - guesses. No one ever had a definitive answer what was wrong with me and therefor no one had an answer as to what made me happy. Everyone knew there was something wrong, but no one, not even me, knew what. It's like I've been walking around with a bleeding wound all my life but no one had a bandage for me.

What makes you happy? What gets you going? I got a comment in private about this blog, how I completely put myself out there with my stories, but "you still keep the reader wondering what happened then." I'm curious about you. Tell me what makes you happy.

I need to know that I am an option. No matter how far away, no matter how complicated it may seem, I need to know that I'll be taken into consideration. Being safe isn't love.

I don't have words. Well, they're as scared as me and they won't come forward right now. I would never hurt you. You know I wouldn't. You know all this already but I'm still not sure if I'm writing for you or for me. I guess I'm writing to make my heart stop screaming. Hey, heart, shut up. Enough. I heard you. I know, I know what you mean but I can't tell you everything I wish for.

What's there left to say? That I wish you were mine and not hers? You know that, you know that very well. I miss you.

I wish I could walk away from here telling an amazing love story.

As always, I end up being the one that gets too emotional. This is for real, and I have no intention of forcing you to make a choice you don't want to make. You won't read this until I'm gone so here, I can tell you that I love you.

When this all started I tried to distance myself from the feelings that I was feeling but the more time that passed, the more evident it became that what I was trying was an impossible task. There's no hiding now, I can't hide anymore. I don't blame you, or myself, because it made me so incredibly happy. I was happy for the first time since.. a very long time, thanks to you. Thank you.

I wish I got to you first. I'm sorry I didn't. There's some things I can't say here, for several reasons, but I want to say them, so loud, so bright, but they're too mean. I'm not mean. I'm the one who always adjusts. I'm the one who won't really say what she wants, because I put other peoples happiness in front of mine. However, this time I don't know who I'm making happy. It's not myself, and I don't think it's you either.

I'm very aware of how very rambling and blurry this will sound to anyone but myself, and possibly you. I just want you to know that I would have/could have made you happy. Very happy. I still would if you asked me. I'd be yours. I'd love you.

No matter what happens, I'm setting myself up for emotional suicide.

I didn't find home in New York. I saw a beautiful city despite all it's uglyness. I saw potential and I saw souls. It amazed me how a city, in it's non personal way, can be so... close. So anonymous, but yet so much proximity. It scared me, it did, but at the same time I felt free. But no, I did not find what I was looking for. I found so much more.

For the first time in a very long time things are going the way I kind of want them to, but not without complications. There are still a lot of things I'd like to change, but I don't feel like I have the power - nor energy, to do so.

There are still so many things, so many people, I want to save.

It's a horrible feeling not knowing where you belong.

Monday is the day. I'm leaving. Am I running away? I don't think so. I planned this before things got tough again. I think I'm just exploring. Finding. I have no idea what I will find, but I hope it's something beautiful. I'm going to New York for a week and I'm gonna try to live the city. I wanna see it's beauty but at the same time not ignore the "ugly" side of it. In a way, that's what I wanna capture I guess. Expect photos.

I've been looking forward to this for a very long time, but now, four days prior to take-off, I am nervous. Not only nervous, but I feel like I've (re)discovered beautiful things right here where I am right now and I don't wanna leave them, even if it's only for a week. There's my princess, the beautiful one I don't want to leave, I just wanna be around her more and more.. and then there's this other person who I'm beginning to like more and more every day. Hopefully they will still be around when I get back.

Here's for hoping I'm not running from myself. Here's for hoping that I manage to find home.

I hadn't met her in so long. It's been over a year since I heard our jokes told out loud. Over a year since I last felt this way. And it felt so good I wanted to cry. I never thought things could be this good, but when we were laughing, it felt like we never had been apart in the first place. How does she do this? She's my princess, my little sister, my angel, the one who saved me so many times. She's my soulmate, and I'll write her name in the skies.

I find myself thinking that it's been so long since I last experienced happyness that I can't remember what it feels like anymore. When was I ever happy?

Remember when our heartbeats were synchronized and when I was always on your mind? How can you say that you don't miss it? How can your heartbeat have gone so out of synch with mine, that you don't pay a minute of your day to have me in your thoughts? When did this happen? How did this happen? Why did this happen? Were we really so different? Were our heartbeats just a fluke? They couldn't be, I felt them so strong, pulsating through my body.

I can't believe you're not here. Without you I'm in a constant state of dreaming, a sense of non-being in a way I never really felt before. I do not, I can not, exist, without you. I'm like a ghost that can't move on and even though I'm so tired I could fall asleep standing I always think of you for two hours before I fall asleep. You are a permanent resident in my brain and I don't see you leaving anytime soon.

I heard good girls don't get their hearts broken. Where did I go wrong? Why did you choose to deny me my happiness?

Have you had the feeling that there's absolutely nothing left? Nothing makes you happy and there's no fucking joyful memories to bring you back. "When were we ever happy, dad?"

So what the hell do you do when all your dreams are over, all your hopes are gone and the only thing left is this little thing, this monster, tearing you apart from the inside, whispering in your ear that no matter how hard you try, you will always, always, be a failure.

You've failed at school, at all your jobs, and most importantly (?) at love. How will you survive this darling, how will you ever pull yourself up?

And I wish you would have never disappeared. I can't help to miss you. Really really much. It wasn't you and me, it was we, and it was us against the world. I will never feel that way again with anyone and it saddens me to think about all the bad things we said to eachother. I felt better when people were more used to see us together than apart.

I see right through your lies but I chose to pretend to believe them because I'm so afraid of being alone. I always have been. Always adjusted myself to others to make them happy. Just because I'm afraid they'll leave if I'm not perfect in their eyes. I've done things I didn't wanna do, I've laughed at boring jokes and watched movies I didn't wanna see, just to pleasure others. Have you ever done that? I've pretended to be someone else for so long I'm not sure I know myself anymore. Are you perfect in anyones eyes? Is it really you?

I wouldn't usually link to other people, but this guy is a very talented photographer. He's moving to Brisbane, Australia, soon and his wedding pictures are amazing. I've been following his swedish blog ever since he started it three years ago and not only does he take amazing shots, he's a very talented writer too.

Visit him and check his pictures, you won't regret it. Click here.

I wish you'd hold my hand through this. I'm not sure if I can do it alone.

Don't you just love it when you realize that every single word that came from someones mouth was complete and utter bullshit? You are such a hypocrite, I can't even begin to tell you. Why'd you lie to me? Why didn't you just tell me the truth? Is that so fucking hard? You're a coward, and I hope you know this is about you. Grow up damnit.

I feel like I experienced so much bad things, so much shit, hell, whatever, so many bad people in my life that I lived 150 years already. To me, I'm not young. I'm old. And I'm done.

There are no feelings left in me. I've used them all up.

Like a fucking empty shell.

Stop trying to save me
(I'm not worth it)

If I wanted your help, I'd ask for it.
If I needed your opinion, I'd ask you for it.

You don't really give a fuck, so stop faking it.

Hi.

We haven't talked in a while and it seems we have some unfinished business. I wish I could tell you how we should finish it but honestly, I have no idea. I know that things ended bad. Actually, not bad, just in a way neither of us wished, I think. You won't ever read this, and that's probably why I can be so open about it. I just wanted to say one thing; if you had stayed, I would have loved you. Why didn't you trust me?

My absence has a perfectly good explanation, but I can't seem to put it into words. Something about a feeling, something about living a healthier life... (Who am I kidding?) All I know is that I think I'm back, and I plan to stay.

We used to spend hours on our backs
feeling the grass between our toes
Drinking the sun and fighting away the clouds
loving every second with eachother

watching the summer rain from my window
I miss those times
the grass doesn't feel the same
without you

the stains on our clothes didn't bother us
we laughed all our troubles away
when winter came we made angels in the snow
cought snowflakes on on our tongues
loving every second with eachother

watching the summer rain from my window
I miss those times
the snow never felt the same
without you

I'd love to miss you
if you were still with me
but life is unbearable
when I'll never see your face again

"I'm a figure of forgotten speech
I'm out of reach"

/John Frusciante

"I'm impossible." To you, I wrote the sarcastic ":P" afterwards, so you wouldn't take me so seriously. But it's true and you can't trust me.

She said she was born an angel, but quickly added "Angels never survive very long down here." I wondered what she meant but she shook her head and said I'd never understand. I asked what happened, why she's not an angel anymore, and she began to explain.

"My wings were beautiful, white and big, and I could fly. I used to fly over all the big cities, looking down at the people. I took pity on them, feeling sorry that they couldn't experience the world I could."

I waited for her to continue but she seemed to be drifting away, reminiscing back to the time where she still had her wings. I was unsure whether or not to interrupt her, but I guess she read my mind because she started talking again.

"They said I was the most beautiful angel to ever decide to live on earth."
"They?"
"You don't know them and I can't really say."
"So you had a choice?"
"Of course. I could stay in heaven like most angels do, but I was curious. And look at the price I had to pay."

Silence, for a couple of seconds.

"He ripped my wings off. Just like that, they were gone, and I've been waiting for 13 years for them to grow back. They never will. I'll never be the angel I was and I still mourn myself every day."

I AM A MESS WITHOUT YOU

When we cry ourselves to sleep at night, it means we really live, and not just breathe through days and nights without finding something worth crying for. I guess that means I'm glad I'm crying, even though it hurts inside. I used to make myself hurt on the outside to put an end to the war inside of me, but I guess this is better.

I love you, whoever you are who's reading this. I love you. (And those words have such an impact)

I don't know if I'm crying myself to sleep because you left - or because you're still here.

It's the motto I've been living by. The quote I have permanently inked on my skin. Sometimes I feel like I can't live up to it. Sometimes everything in the world seems so completely useless. Why even try to fight when you know failure is inevitable? How can I preach to my friends that they shouldn't ruin their lives with drugs, that they shouldn't cut their arms to pieces, when I'm killing myself slowly too? How can I praise life when I'm really just looking forward to dying? Hypocrite bitch, shut the fuck up.

The world is filled with shallow monsters and people who think they're better than you.

You keep proving to others and yourself that you're worthless. Over and over again, the only thing you're really good at is disappointing people. If they only knew how hard you try, maybe they wouldn't look down on you so much. You try, every day, because sometimes you actually do something that people around you appreciate, even though you lost the energy to do so with a smile on your face a long long time ago. You're sitting there, writing down your thoughts, and can't find a single thing that gets you up in the morning except the fear of disappointing people until the point where the abandon you. So you try. You try so hard that your heart breaks inside because you really just wanna scream out how bad you feel instead of doing what they tell you to.

Instead of putting makeup on in the morning you put your smile on. Sometimes it lasts through the day, sometimes your whole world comes crumbling down within minutes. You've been through it so many times you don't even feel ashamed anymore. Crying is worthless, it doesn't get you anywhere. Screaming is worthless, no one hears you. Instead you stay quiet. Most kids do.

Deep inside you wonder when it's time to stop faking.

When I feel lonely I sit down and fantasize about what other people in the world are doing. I imagine someone dying, someone being born, someone having sex, someone getting their first kiss. That way I know I'm not completely alone and I feel a lot better.

Why can't you be the person I've been waiting for? The one I dreamed about, the one I wished for? The one to hug me good morning and kiss me goodnight. The one I can laugh with and hang out with without everything being so awkward. Why? How did we even end up here?

Actually I think you are, you just haven't realized it yet.

I knew it would come to this. In the back of my mind I knew I was gonna disappointed. This is why I should never ever look forward to anything, I always get disappointed. I don't blame you, not at all, I understand it's hard, but I wish you'd actually try for once. This is an important thing we're talking about. But yeah, I don't blame you. I blame myself for everything. You could have said "I can't, I'm watering my flowers" and I would have blamed me.

You just keep sleeping while I'm having a war with myself.

This weekend I'm going to try to be social again. "Again.." Well, I haven't really been out of the house for three weeks now. Actually, I'm not going out, someone is coming to visit me. Hopefully we'll have a good time, I'm looking forward to it a lot. It'll be nice to meet someone beside myself again.

With nothing to do your mind starts to wander. Did I make the right choice? Did I kiss the right boy and should I have stayed in school? I don't like these thoughts. I believe what done is done and even if the choices I made don't seem right at the moment, I'm pretty sure they were.

These last few weeks I've been missing something really bad, and I wanted to do something about it. In this case it was a person I was missing. A lot. This person was a big part of my life for a long time and we ended up hurting eachother bad before parting ways. I was thinking about writing him a letter but everyone I talked to said I shouldn't. What's done is done. I think I took their advice and started doing other things to get my mind off it. Too much alcohol and a couple of mixed tapes later I didn't think of it as much. I think I miss the feeling I had when I was with him more than I miss him. People said I was happy, the happiest they've seen me in a long time, but I don't think writing the letter will bring the good feelings back.

It's not good relying on another person to make yourself happy. Only you can do it.

I wish there was an on and off button for people's madness. As much as I'd like to deal with this now, I can't, and it's killing me inside. It reminds me of something else that I don't want to be reminded of and desperatly trying to get out of my head. It's not working very well.

Don't complain when I show you my way of not having to deal with things you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy. This is my way and you should feel honored that you're even allowed to see it cause I don't usually let people that close. You should be thankful. And your way isn't much better. I'd rather do this than do drugs. I believe we all have our ways to numb ourselves and we should just let each other do it. To me, it's better to numb the pain away than to face some things. I'm not saying you should always run, but some things are too bad to see again. I choose this way of living my life, stop complaining. Try going through what I went through and then ask yourself "Do I wanna go through it again and again every single day?" I promise, you wouldn't.

On a bus, on a train, on a plane, always trying to escape reality. Boy, boy, boy, girl, boy, boy, I let them use me as they want, I'm at their command, just a slave, someone they have control over. Becuase I can't control myself. I quit the drugs, I quit the self mutilation, I quit the casual sex but I never quit running from myself. It's a dead race where I always end up the winner and the loser but the loss strikes me the most. I take advantage of myself and I realized there's not many things I really enjoy doing. (Dear god, make me a bird, so I can fly far far away from here)

I represent the kids who always tried to put the square pegs in the roung holes and the kids who were always scared. We can unite and maybe change the world or we'll meet for a brief second and then run away from ourselves again. Maybe we'll feel just as alone together.

(Cause the ones crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do)

I want to apologize for the lack of blog posts these last few days. A lot of things have been going on but I think I'm back on track now. I'm not "home" though so I might have limited access to the internet, but I'll be back.

I hope you're never unhappy.

Because right now everything is spinning way too fast for me to be able to concentrate on anything. I can just be happy I have good friends that don't freak out when I'm in this mood and that I'm two minutes away from resting my head on my pillow and sleeping.

I went back to bed and wrapped my arms around her to keep her warm. I put my lips against her neck and breathed in as much of her scent as I could. She was so beautiful, you have no idea. I let her fall back asleep before I got up again. I couldn't sleep, I just couldn't bring myself to spend our last hours together sleeping. I decided to watch her instead.

She was leaving in the morning, going back to the place she should call a home. I wouldn't call it that though, as it was killing her. She was a refugee at my place, running away from all the troubles, and with good reason too. Everytime she came to visit there were more scars on her arms, more bruises on her legs and more sadness in her eyes. I just wished I could have saved her before it was too late.

"I don't feel pain anymore" she said and looked straight at me. Her blue eyes were like stars that night, it felt like they could see right through me and read my mind. "What do you mean?" She closed her eyes and leaned back, like she was trying to float. "I mean.. I've felt so much pain already in my life that I'm out of pain." She paused for a second and opened her eyes. "I can't decide if it's bad or good."

Later that night she laid naked in my bed and I got up to the window and lit a cigarette. In her sleep she looked more peaceful than ever and I wished I could capture the moment with more then a photo. Her pale skin shined as bright as her eyes and she was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. "Come back to bed" she said, and I did.

I have seen so many loving faces
They turn back and leave with looks of regret
The road goes and I am finding home in it
(Saosin - Finding Home)

Stop crying. Come on, seriously, stop crying. Why aren't you listening to me? What's wrong? Stop crying and tell me what's wrong? Stop being so god damn silly, it wasn't that bad! I mean, I only crushed your heart and threw it away. It wasn't that bad, now be a good girl and stop crying. I just pulled the ground out from under you, stop complaining! I know it felt like I hit you with a baseball bat right in the stomach but I couldn't help it, wasn't my fault, stop being such a cry baby.

The more bandaids I put on your skin, the more wounds I stitch together, the more blood comes out of you and I'm afraid my efforts won't ever be enough. You are the security in my life and if you decide to leave me I'm not sure I can hold myself together. My stiches are for your wounds only, not mine, cause if you leave, how can I be worth saving?

How can you say I'm destructive when I've been clean for so long? I've tried so hard and you throw that in my face? Did I mean nothing? Did my efforts mean nothing? I know I've been crazy but I tried long and hard to prove myself worthy. I've fought wars trying to prove myself, and it means nothing?

I refuse to believe you're that cold.

We are brought up in shapes and patterns. Our parents or our legal guardians decide the path we take in the beginning of our lives. They dress us, comb our hair and put us to bed at night. There aren't many animals so dependent on our guardians as humans. We are completely helpless for a very long time. It scares me what some parents do to their kids. They stuff them full with religion or political views that aren't even close to be considered nice. It really scares me, especially since most of these kids take after their parents and grow up to do the same to their kids. Then there's a couple who break free and I admire them.

We live in a world where corruption is a fashion.

The words you spoke were always true to me and they were the truth I lived by. I don't know how old I was when your words turned from truth to something I didn't trust, but I remember holding on to them longer then I should have. You had been lying for years already and I so desperatly wanted to believe otherwise. I didn't want to believe that you would let me down, I really didn't. Do you know how it feels to realize that the foundation of your whole life as you know it decieves you? Do you know what it feels like to be an outcast from your own family? I was never a part of the picture you painted, I didn't even have the right haircolor, as you so nicely pointed out. I'm sorry.

I guess this is just another morning of not wanting to open your eyes. Not wanting to leave and at the same time not wanting to stay. I'm torn between different opinions, including about a hundred of my own, wondering what I'm supposed to do. In this world of 2008 technology, why can't a machine tell me?

I should get a magic 8 ball.

My friend recently wrote that she wanted her life to be a fairytale and it reminded me of my own life and how my mother used to call me her little princess. As I grew older, she didn't say it as much and now it's been years since she last said it. Nowadays she says I've disappointed her and I guess in a way I have. Maybe, if I had been better, I would still be that princess girl in the pink dress with her hair up. I could understand her if I was still the rebellious teen who ran away from home but I'm not anymore. Now I'm just not what she wanted me to be. She denies me my dreams and shoots down my ideas like they were bad and evil when they're really just what I think is best. I don't think my opinion really matters anymore and I've grown accustomed to the fact that she won't ever accept me for who I am. Did I turn out wrong? Does she want me to change who I am to fit in to her shape of the perfect daughter? Should I?

Somewhere inside I wish I was still a princess.

We shared a love for music. Your skin was the softest I've felt. When we woke up you kissed my eyebrow.
(Ne me quitte pas.)

You were my excuse not to be home. You were my excuse for a lot of things actually. I wish that you never left. I wish that you never left and that what we had could have grown. I wish you didn't pull out the roots of that new seed just yet. I wish you would have let it grown into a flower instead of killing it. I wish I had been strong enough to ask you not to when you were still around. I think most of all I wish I didn't miss you this much when it's only been four days.

My grandmom could only be described as one of the most wonderful women I've ever met. Her laugh, her stories, the fact that she says things like "I'm too old for dating!" and everything that surrounds her just makes her perfect. She is my best friend and I can share anything with her. I admire her strenght and that she managed to raise two kids alone during the 40's while working full time. I love her sense of adapting to what's new and not being stuck in the 60's or 70's like many old people. Many of the old photos I display here are from her collection and her giving them to me is probably one of the best gifts I've ever gotten. To look through them is to be back there, with her. I am very grateful they took so many photos back then, it allows me to tell my stories, and hers, better.



Grandmom with her friends in ~1935. She's wearing a black top and white shorts.

They were waiting for something spectacular, just like me. (Theater, south of Sweden, 1917)

I used to scratch mosquito bites until they started bleeding hoping they'd stop itching but they never did. I realize I still do this in a way, but with bigger problems than mosquito bites. Everyone always told me that if I opened up and talked about my feelings and my memories things would get better but they never did. It was like cutting up a healed wound again and seeing all the repressed memories come back to me through the blood flowing out of the wound. It never got better but I kept doing it over and over again. I know more people that does this, re-live painful memories in hopes of learning something through it and getting better but I rarely see it succeed. I'd like to talk to someone who that actually worked for because I'd like to have that faith with me still. That it works. That I can get better. That the repressed memories can finally be free.

Ever since I was a little kid I've been on the search for home. The city I live in has never served me well and it has always been more of a hell than a home for me. Living here has caused me great greif and I've always been looking for something that would make me feel complete. Sadly, I haven't been able to travel much, at least not in that search. Family vacations are one thing but the search is another. It's a passion to me and I will not give up until my heart is whole.



I could leave today if someone asked me. Wherever, whenever. I just need that toothbrush and somewhere to write my thoughts. To search, I don't need material things, I'll know in my heart when it's right. No one can take this away from me.

I wonder how you can feel so lonely when there's people all around you. Am I just too afraid to trust people or am I some loveless creature that won't ever find something permanent enough to make it worth existing? When do thoughts turn into actions and when do kids turn into adults? When do we stand on our own feet? Will I ever be able to? When are we mature enough to to make our own choices, to take responsibility, to say I love you, to have kids? Will I ever? Will I ever be fully in charge of my own actions or will there always be someone else to make my decisions for me? Who? My mom? My future spouse? (Will I ever marry?) God? Who is god?

Whoever he is I bet he's either crying at our stupidity or laughing because he's a sadist.

I wonder if you ever really find yourself
I think I'm better at knowing people around me
then knowing the person beneath my skin
I can't decide if that's good or bad

My grandmoms sister will die a virgin and sometimes I envy her. She never married and lived her whole life with her parents, until they died. She travelled around the world and brought home beautiful photos. When she moved to a retirement home last year she gave the photos to me and I look at them every night wondering what the people in them are doing now, if they're even alive. She's 94 and I can only dream that my life will turn out half as exciting as hers.