Emancipated

Jag försöker finna ord för att beskriva
men jag finner inga ord, jag finner bara fulhet
slitna toppar klipper man av
men jag hamnade på golvet bland dom

för att sedan sopas undan

Tanken är kittlande
ljuva frihetskänsla
Elin, du behöver nog inte sticka vantar åt mig... tror jag

Grattis Amanda 15 år

And I remember how we laughed, counted seconds and heald our breath


                                          Conor Oberst

 

The phone slips from a loose grip; Words were missed, then, some apology. I didn?t want to tell you this-- No, it?s just some guy, she's been hanging out with Oh, I don?t know, the past couple of weeks I guess. Thank you and hang up the phone. Let the funeral start. Hear the casket close. Let?s pin split-black ribbon to your overcoat. But laughter pours from under doors-- In this house, I don?t understand that sound no more. It seems artificial; like a T.V. set. Haligh, Haligh, Haligh, Haligh. This weight it must be satisfied. You offer only one reply: You know not what you do. But you tear and tear your hair from roots. From that same head, you have twice removed, Now, a lock of hair you said would prove: Our love would never die. Well, ha, ha, ha. I remember everything; The words we spoke on freezing South Street. And all those mornings, watching you, Get ready for school. You combed your hair inside that mirror; The one you painted blue, and glued with jewelry tears. Something 'bout those bright colors, Would always make you feel better. But, now we speak with ruined tongues, And the words we say aren?t meant for anyone. It?s just a mumbled sentence to a passing acquaintance. But there was once you, You said you hate my suffering, And you understood, and you?d take care of me. You'd always be there, Well, where are you now? Haligh, Haligh, A Lie, Haligh, The plans were never finalized. But, left to hang like yarn and twine, Dangling before my eyes. As you tear and tear your hair from roots, From that same head that you have twice removed. Now, a lock of hair you said would prove: Our love would never die. And, I sing and sing of awful things, The pleasure that my sadness brings As my fingers press onto the strings-- Yet another clumsy chord. Haligh, Haligh, an awful lie. This weight would now be satisfied. I'm gonna give 'ya only one reply: I know not who I am. But I talk in the mirror, to the stranger that appears. Our conversations are circles, Always one sided; Nothing is clear. Except, we keep coming back to this meaning that I lack. He says, "The choices were given, Now I must live them, Or just not live." --But do you want that?
              --- haligh, haligh, a lie, haligh - Bright eyes

This sickness don't seem to pass

there's a war inside me

even the stars refuse to shine

att älska på avstånd

meningen med livet är ett dåligt skämt.

iblandvillmanbaravaraenkopåenäng
idagvilljagbaravaraenkopåenäng
jagorkarinteförstå,justidag
jagvillinteförståidag
jagförstårredan
varför,vad,
när,hur

det enda jag inte förstår är  att det verkligen har hänt.

Tyst.niskrattarsåhögt.vadfinnsdetkvarattskrattaåt?
skanogsättamigochkollainienvägg