Cayan

I was afraid you'd hit me if I'd spoken up.I was afraid of your physical strength.I was afraid you'd hit below the belt.I was afraid of your sucker punch.I was afraid of your reducing me,I was afraid of your alcohol breath.I was afraid of your complete disregard for me.I was afraid of your temper,I was afraid of handles being flown off.I was afraid of holes being punched into walls.I was afraid of your testosterone.I have as much rage as you have.I have as much pain as you do.I've lived as much hell as you have.And I've kept mine bubbling under for you.You were my best friendYou were my lover.You were my mentor.You were my brother.You were my partner.You were my teacher.You were my very own sympathetic character.I was afraid of verbal daggers.I was afraid of the calm before the storm.I was afraid of for my own bones.I was afraid of your seduction.I was afraid of your coercion.I was afraid of your rejection.I was afraid of your intimidation.I was afraid of your punishment.I was afraid of your icy silences.I was afraid of your volume.I was afraid of your manipulation.I was afraid of your explosions.I have as much rage as you have.I have as much pain as you do.I've lived as much hell as you have.And I've kept mine bubbling under for you. You were my keeper.You were my anchor.You were my family.You were my savior.And therein lay the issue.And therein lay the problem.

En kvinna förlåter i regel att du tar dig friheter - men aldrig att du inte åtrår henne.



Jag upplever klitorisorgasmerna som "Marxistiska, subjektorienterade, individualistiska lustupplevelser" och vaginalorgasmerna som "dionysiska zenbuddistiska lustupplevelser".

I know a girl laying down. She's sleeping weeks at a time. When she wakes up she watches tv, counting cracks in the ceiling. No I don't know what she's thinking, so I gave up waiting for someone waiting, talking to someone staring. So much for girls staying in. Afraid of being needed and seen, she watches the world on a screen. She's distant. God knows I've tried to leave her. Cause she's got a constant fever. I let it slip my mind. I know a girl laying down. No, I never waisted my time. We have something in common. She's as indifferent as I am.

Natten kryper in. In på mitt bara, bleka skinn. Klockan tickar. Skönt, jag missade 22.22. Siffror som framkallar ångest. Galet värre. Kollat in album. Små ögonblick som fastnat på foto. Gjort ett litet kollage. Bilder på mig. Ville se om livet satt sina spår. Svart på vitt. Kanske dyker upp här.

- "Oh girl, look at yourself, what have you done? What have you become?"

Well, I couldn't say...

- "Slow down and think of your heart, where do you go?"

Now, how am I supposed to know?! I'm always looking away...

Give me your eyes so I can see me straight. Give me your eyes. I can't tell night from day. Give me your eyes so I can see me straight. Give me your eyes and watch me walk away.

I took a look at myself --> Nothing inside. (Except for cigarettes and coke where there should be life)
You've been watching me for a while and you like what you see. It's in the eyes of the beholder. Now give them to me! Give me your eyes so I can see me straight. Give me your eyes that seem to light my face.

- "Oh mirror, mirror upon the wall. Who is the fairest of them all?"
Mirror, mirror made no reply. Mirror went black and cracked from side to side.

There is something you need to know. There's a feeling I don't understand. Here it comes again... There was love ten seconds ago. In it's place, now a tiny pain. It comes again. There'll be rain on our wedding day. And the chapel will be mud and clay. There'll be rain on our wedding day. Gray be the sky. (I don't know why). Easy come and easy go. It seems your ring is sliding off my hand. Do you understand? In every breathe you're dragging me low. In every movement the chill sustains. Here it comes again. There'll be rain on our wedding day. Rotting roses in my bouqet. There'll be rain on our wedding day. Gray be the sky. Too late to cry.

Huvudet sprängs. Tankarna kokar.
Jag har ingen aning om vart jag ska ta vägen.

Jag berörs. Känner. Lyssnar. Ser. Tar in. Hoppas.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UuURT_XkrbI&feature=player_embedded

"Tvillingarnas dubbla natur har sitt ursprung i myten om halvbröderna Pollux och Castor. Enligt den grekiska mytologin var Pollux son till guden Zeus och alltså odödlig. Castors far var kung Tyndaros. När Castor dog i en strid, uppväckte Zeus honom från de döda och bestämde att de båda bröderna skulle turas om att vara i livet varannan dag. Det här säger en hel del om Tvillingens natur. Hennes logiska och rationella sida kolliderar och protesterar ständigt med den själsliga och mer andliga sidan. Motsättningarna kastar henne fram och tillbaka mellan medvetet och omedvetet, maskulint och feminint, intellekt och känsla."

Jag är född stressig och kräver mer. Jag kan inte bara sitta ner och se hur saker blir, då förstör jag hellre allting. Det är högt i tak men alla låga tankar finns kvar. Kom ta mig högre, högre än månen.
Tror du på det själv, att hjärtat lär sig av erfarenhet? (Du är som ett gammalt skämt). Det hela ser sjukt ut, men det är det bästa jag har. Lyssnar efter ett svar i ditt minspel. Förlåt är ett utnött ord. Rädd för mörker, våld och minnen. Minnen som biter mina tjocka kinder så som den nyinfunna kylan.
Har nästan slutat tro på mina egna kloka ord...

Tror man tillräckligt så blir det verklighet till slut.
Jag hör hur du stönar i någon annans famn just nu. 
Jag bär det så bra. En busslast med förtroende som börjar sina.
Styrka. Ära. Tusen ansikten och namn. Otvättad och något kantstött.
Kom ihåg mig så som jag är när jag är som bäst.

Jag tror på spöken. De tror på mig.





http://www.jesper.nu/jtube/WTF/34001-Spoke_sitter_i_gungstol/

Jag grät när jag ringde och pratade med mamma i telefon idag.
Sa jag kände mig så ond. Hon sa:
- "Du är mycket, men du är inte ond. Du har bara vant dig vid att göra fel." 

- Har jag sagt att jag älskar dig idag?
- Nej, inte idag...
- Jag älskar dig, till månen och tillbaka.