In this world, I will be darkness.
And I may be darkness again.

But light as a ghost.
With dark hair floating.

And my eyes will be light.
Light behind the darkness.

It’s hope.
One can only hope in this world.

Fate cannot be forced.
It’s that hope that keeps you walking in the dark.

Comfort in this world is so fragile.
So much that it creates a force of darkness.
That darkness is created to control you.

Letting go might be the most comfortable thing after all.
When I let go, I’m completely in the most painful discomfort.
When I try to keep any sense of comfort, I’m being controlled by the most painful fight.

And I keep losing it.
In the end, I might win it.
That takes everything.
Fighting that force of darkness.

In the end, I just want to find that peace and that love that I’m longing for.
Should I walk the rest of this path with my eyes closed?
Should I completely let go?
Cause I’m done fighting.

I let anything attack me.
But then I’m just in it.
Will I get out?
And will it be worth it?
Will I find what I need?

Should I run with my eyes closed?
Cause even a flashlight doesn’t keep me safe. Doesn’t help me see the full spectrum, the whole path that’s set out.

So I’m being sent back by my commander with a flashlight.
And she’s telling me to be careful.
But I’ll keep being sent out.
And it’s that same dark path.

Yet every time I don’t know when the attack comes again.
So I’m comfortably walking with a flashlight.
Scared but determined.
Always on guard.
Always fighting when I need to.
Always having to all over again and again.

It’s never right, it’s always the same path.
It’s not mine.
It’s my commanders’.
I have to keep going over and over.

But what if I close my eyes?
What if I don’t listen to her warning?
Will it set me free?
Cause it feels like I’ll be eaten alive.
But right now it feels like I’m just always fighting not to be. 🥲

To me, it’s like you’re trying to make it as painful as it could possibly be.
You come back just to disappoint me once more.
You are everything I was hoping for, yet everything I can’t have.

I’ll give him the inside and the outside.
But he is preoccupied.

I don’t know where to sleep.
I’m deepest gone in the morning.
During the night, I’m just wandering off.
Not really resting well enough.

I don’t know where to live.
Deep down, I know what I feel I need.
A loving safe place.
Like everyone wants.

Waking up to the eyes I chose to see.
Finally feeling peace.
Being held in mutual devotion and pureness.
Like a newborn in their mom’s cradle.
Like never escaping the womb.
In a cocoon with a twin soul.
Surrounded by love.

Waking up in safety.
Waking up in bliss.
Getting up making a cup of green leaf tea.
Sitting under the willow tree.

And the willow finally agrees.
I found what I was looking for.
I don’t need to escape.
I’m not making wrong choices.

The willow looks at me like the film has a happy end.
Like, I told you everything was gonna be ok.
You just had to be extremely patient.
But look at me, I’ve been here for over 800 years and I’m called Aaliyah.

And through those last few years I’ve seen you come and go.
I’ve seen your brokenness, your restlessness, your intensity, your stress.
I had to be the witness.

Sometimes I could put my leaf upon your shoulder.
Sometimes you just made me want to pull away.
Because I didn’t agree with you, you are stubborn.
But you know what you want.

And I’m just standing here being all patient.
Old and weary like you.
But also renewing.
You can as well.
Probably not completely and certainly not the same.

Guess you need the right environment.
And you never felt like you had it.
But look at this soil.
Look at me all bent over.

We both dreamed about dropping ourselves into the water.
For me, the dream is just a dream.
And I guess for you as well because this movie scene hasn’t happened.
That’s when I woke up from lying under the willow tree… 🥹🥲

Your intensity.
My intensity.
Your fragility.
My fragility.
Our love.
Our dreams.
Our moments.
Life.
In this world.
Beyond.
Your eyes.
Your calmness.
Your coldness.
Your warmth.
My cold hands.
Holding your warm hands.
My fearing, teary eyes.
My darkness.
Your darkness.
That spark. ⚡️ 🔥

You can always escape in this song, child.
No matter how lonely, no matter how desperate, no matter how painful.
Be there.
Get right through the fight and find yourself again.

In that song.
In the wind where you escaped the bad behavior that shouldn’t be rewarded.
Nor should it be judged.

These moments are important.
Just sit.
Picking and discovering and rediscovering songs.
Scribble things in a journal.
Inspiration.
No pressure.

Therapy before alcohol.
Just don’t forget to at least wipe your makeup off & brush your teeth before you pass out.
Doesn’t matter where you leave stuff.
Just doze off.
Dream away.
Get another nickname from a random little child.
Like Conway.
For some reason that happened yesterday. I don’t care.
I have to live, but I can’t somehow.
Never been good at it.
Suicidal since birth.
I have no words left.
Just trying not to have another beer.
Just trying to pass out and get it all over with.

Can you tell I try?
Can you see?
I’m tired.
But many people are closing the gates.

And then I realize who is for real.
I’m lost in a dream, walking.
So tired.
Sleep walking.

You wouldn’t be able to see.
Maybe in your sleep, I hope so, entering your dream walking.
And maybe you think of me and then see me.
Can you tell I’m in pain?
Can you feel?
You gave me a dream.
And that was what it was.
Nothing more.
And now I’m awake and tired.
But I’m so tired that I’m sleepwalking.

So I try to enter a dream of my own and I just wonder if you can see.
But if you don’t, it’s still the dream I’m in.
And I refuse to leave.
Cause what is left of my waking state?

There’s no place for me to be.
So I’d rather walk in this dream.
Pretend I walk towards you.
But actually, I’m glad that this is my dream and not yours.
Cause you don’t wanna be in mine.

But I still try to walk into yours when I can because you touched me deeply or you are family to me.
Anyway, what I try to say is that from now on I’m in my own dreams with my own brothers and sisters.
And apparently, if I want lovers, I just need to enter their dreams if they allow me to. 🥲💔🖤

Even the dreams hurt.
If the willow tree could have turned her back to me, she would.
Even the water is silent.

You told me many things I wanted to hear.
Now they are like fallen leaves.
There’s no place to dance.

I’m tired, but I’m not going to try to sleep.
I’m just sitting here.
Till I’m able to move.

So freaking tired.
No way of sleeping anymore.
I know there is a day waiting.
But I still needed to rest, dear head.
You know as well.
But you’re just as stupid as my heart.
Crossing boundaries, breaking yourself just for that connection and belonging.
Just because you have no peace inside, you’re not comfortable.
And then you’re breaking again.

Because what you want is what you can’t have.
You know you don’t get it here.
Haven’t you learned by now?

I can tell you haven’t.
You never do.
So now I’m sitting here, exhausted and brokenhearted.
Getting ready for an appointment.
A therapy session that I know is not worth the effort.

But I’m supposed to do it for the end goal which is to prove that it’s not gonna work.
That I should be able to leave this world.
Which I already know because one of the things that I’ve learned is that it’s not gonna be alright.
I won’t find the love that I can live with.

I won’t find the peace.
I’m exhausted and I’m depressed.

And there’s reasons for it.
No home, no love.
My grandmother knew the same.
No true belonging.
Just as stable as you can.
Just stable if you can.
Only trying every day to just get through that, one more day.

The sun will rise, but I want to see the sunset with you.
And never have it rise if you’re not there.
Only in your eyes, I will wanna see the morning lights.

Otherwise, I wanna stay asleep.
But I have to get up anyway.
Knowing you’re not with me.
The love I need.
And I learned so much from all of these phases of life.

They say I’m still young.
I feel like I left so many lives inside.
And the older men don’t work on themselves they don’t make the effort.

And if they do, they’re not broken enough to love me the way I should be.
They want to listen to my story and I don’t have to be afraid.
But I also don’t feel any excitement.
No spark.
But the sparks turn into bombs and then they explode.
They hurt.
More than I can take, even though I try everything to stay, not break.

It’s impossible.
I want to teach, I want to learn but I also want to sleep and I want to love.
I want to dance and swim I want to rest my body with yours.
True love, alive, home, feeling good.
The basics of belonging….
I always need to be strong.
Like my family.
My best friend.
Suffering.
I want a lover.
I want to place.
I want to rest my head.
If I can’t, I’ll leave.
And I never have been able to find these three things I crave.
Only in dreams.

Or for a moment, and then I got disappointed.
Bomb exploded.
Broken.
Falling.
Apart.
Nowhere to be.
Carry me home, love that I have been waiting for.
Carrying me home like a baby that’s asleep.
Lie me down beside you.
Let me wake up and see you.
After dreams.
See your eyes, bright.
Feel the spark.
And never let it go.

I’m so tired.
But no way of sleeping.
I know the day is waiting.
But I still need to dream, dear head.
You know as well.
But you can’t escape.
Like my heart.
Slowly dying.
Unable to leave.
There’s no peace inside this prison.
Inside of here there’s only torture.
I have to get straight through it every day.
Always having to go through it always having to work on things.

But in the end nothing feels ok.
Only a moment you can create.
Or receive as a gift.
Just enough.
But it won’t stay and when he leaves it leaves you empty.

The “Turkish” bridal dress.
Even though I am a lonely bride.
They’re only half gifts or no gifts of real love in this life.
I have my best friend, I have my family.
I marry myself and them as well.
I marry the love that I carry.
World can ***** itself.
Cause I don’t want no wedding night.
I just want to run to a tree.
And sing out loud on the street.
I just wanna scream that I am still strong enough to stand.
Cause after all that this world has done to me I’m still standing behind what I’m feeling.
I’m strong and I’m also grateful for the people that matter.
And all the rest can just burn in a hole for that matter.

I don’t even wanna know the answer to the question if I should let them go.
If you make me question your love in the first place, it’s a no in the first place.
And you’re not at the first place.
Don’t ever take away my freedom, don’t even try.
Don’t ever tell me what to do with my friends.
If they feel like a brother, I will treat them like that.
If my mother is willing to grow, I will only support her.
If my father is still fighting for her and for our family, I will support him in every way I can, and I will be true to everything.
I will always stand behind the truth, and I will never ignore or walk away from what really matters.

I will die first before you will make me smaller than the strong person I am from the strong family I know.
Don’t tell me what to do.
It’s not that I don’t acknowledge your feelings.
I just don’t have to go along with everything you tell me that you need me to do in order for you to feel ok.
I will tell you exactly what I feel.
And I will be my own bride.
And then I will just leave you.
I don’t need you to tell me how to be.
I wanted you to carry me home but now I just want you to stay out.
Away from the journey home.
Wherever that is.

My love,
I am sending you my love.
Even though you are not my love.
I receive love.
You are the love that I want to love.
So I’m sending you all the love.
All the love that you give and all the love that I receive I’m reflecting all.
All back to you, my love.
My love, my only place of love.
I feel only love.
With you, love, your love.
Your touch and your gaze.
With you, I can be only inside of loving.
Loving and being.
Inside of love.
My love.

It’s bittersweet to escape the world with you.
When you’re gone, I feel empty.
But then you sent me just enough to keep believing that dreams can happen.

And I keep dreaming.
I keep seeing you.
Those deep set eyes.

They have different vibes.
Sometimes tired and weary, sometimes wild and full of energy.
And magic.
I’m not afraid in the dark.
I’m not afraid of what you tell me from the dark.
And I stay.
Because I don’t know who I am to you when you leave.

And then I’m alone with all the pain all over again.
Never truly with you, never truly without you.

I guess you touched me deeply.
In a way I wasn’t prepared to receive.
Not anymore, not ever again.
You’re not mine.
But I am yours.
I have no destiny.
In this world, my only destiny is to wander.
To meet people as I do.
To be a mirror.
To be a stone, a Labradorite.
To give some insight, to shed a different light on everything.
I’m that moth that comes in somehow.

A message.
I come as an intervention to your story.
I sing a song when the lights go dim.
In between all the plays.
I am that moment where people can decide what’s next.
Or just wait for the next chapter.
But they can see everything that has happened before.
And they can decide what they do after.
I’m always in between places.
Not at home.
Sometimes escaping into a place where I feel mostly as if I’m there.
At home.

Where I belong.
Do I belong with you in some way?

I hope so, because I feel so much when you just only look at me.
I guess I need you as much as you need me right now in this moment.
Let’s embrace it and let’s take it.
What have we got to lose anyway?

But still, I can’t help wishing you were here when you’re not.
I want to escape this world all the time.
And when there’s somebody that makes me feel at home, of course that’s where I want to be.

I want to find the calm before the storm.
Be ok with discomfort.
Be easy.
Take the moment, carpe diem.
But most of all I want a home where I feel loved.
Where I choose to live with someone purely out of love.

I want that dream.
Falling in love and then living.
Falling asleep.
Slowly starting the day.

Feeling completely at peace.
At home.
It’s rare I think if you find this.
If you can have this.
It’s a dream within a world where nothing has ever felt right.

I got a taste of it, but I never got to have it.
Now I’m wondering where to go.
Wandering.
Lost.
Not at peace.
But still in love.
But not at home.
Will I ever find love and a home?
I can’t go on.

Can’t keep wandering around, lost without a home.
Being in love without answers.
And never finding the right place.
Things fall into place eventually but this never has.
Never have I found my true place.
In this world.

Everything is temporary.
But as long as I live I will face the pain.
Sometimes I feel like I became the monster that I had to deal with all of my life.

I’m stuck again in noise and can’t do what I need to do.
I have to “accept” it.
Over and over.

Sometimes when I finally go outside and I look at the crowd I wonder:
What are we even doing?

All these themes, trends, events, things we do.
Some people are just going about their days.
Moment to moment.

For some it takes effort.
To get there.
Nothing is easy, nothing is “normal”.
But then again “normal is a perception”.

So it’s “natural”.
But things just don’t come natural to me.
Even though it makes sense in the end.

Most of the time I understand.
The balance that is created.
By forcing me to be stuck.

I came back to the willow tree after the amputation of the branch that was split in a square.
I thought it would be thankful that I filed for it to be cut off by the authorities who could.
I thought the tree would embrace me again.

Cause we both had to let go of things.
I thought it understood.
But I felt resentment when I came to see the tree.
It didn’t embrace me.
In fact, it didn’t even want to acknowledge me there.

Did I do the wrong thing?
I don’t think so because I read about rotting when dead branches keep hanging.
I feel that rotting every day inside of me.
I hold onto thoughts and coping too much.
And I have to try to bend or break them somehow.  

Some are most difficult to break completely.
So maybe it fell forced for the tree as well.
But I think the letting go was necessary and the tree should understand that too.

Trees like that are wise enough, you’d think.
But today I realized something different.
It was probably the way I came along this time.

I didn’t come humble.
I came with a feeling that I did something good.
And maybe that was not the best way because I should also have recognized the pain of the tree.
And I did in a way, but maybe I moved too fast towards the letting go.
Maybe I should have come with care.

With tenderness, empathy and understanding.
I shouldn’t have smiled like everything was fine. Cause I should probably know too well that it’s not just fine just because it has to happen.
It’s not easy to let go.
It takes time and great pain.

And I should have been more thoughtful about that.
So next time I see the tree, I would see the pain and hopefully then it will embrace me like it used to.
Because we both understand that life comes with letting go but that does not mean that it’s easy.
And it feels forced sometimes.
Unnatural.
This world feels unnatural to me too.
Whatever natural may be.
It feels forced.
Forced upon me.

But maybe it’s what I need.
I will need it to move on.
But when?
And why?
I’m not sure.
That makes it extra hard to trust in the process. But that’s all I can do.

I got no other choice in a matter.
I’m not happy about my impatience.
I wish I could just close my eyes and take a long time.
Drink my beer in meditation with small sips.

I try.
It’s the best I can do in this moment.
Just trying to take it really slow.
Some things can wait.
And somethings keep trying to alert me.

And sometimes when I find peace in waiting, then there’s also distracting noise.
Always something.
To do, to deal with.
Or not to deal with if I could only let go.

I’m still surprised by what the people in my dreams do to me.
This is all in my head?
I do wonder.
Am I wandering around in a different world when I sleep?
Cause the people in my dream still surprise me.
Does that mean that I do not know my own head?
I think it’s more, I think I’m wandering.
And the people in my dreams are the people that I need.
And sometimes, many times, I don’t even recognize them.
And it’s just a little thing that’s making me feel like I’m at home.
Just a little feeling.
Just a little smell.
Just a little thing they do.
And it’s surprises me when I wake.
Cause I remember.
They did so much to me by doing so little.
It was so real.
They just feel real and they feel like I belong there.
They feel like I’m home.

Nothing is ideal in this world.
Be that mess and own it!

Find some peace within you that you can cling to.

Want nothing.
Wanting something only causes stress.

Nothing is ideal in this world.
Be that mess, nothing to lose.

But the distractions, discomfort and the trials are there to disrupt everything.
Everything is a lot.

You can’t expect anything.
Anything’s possible.

But nothing is ideal.
Be that mess, don’t find comfort.

Find patience.
Patience gives you time.

Sometimes it takes too long.
The winner takes everything and you can’t win.

But you also can’t lose.
Because you can’t lose everything.

Everything is too much.
You have to start all over again.

And you can do that sometimes but how many times?
At what cost?
Nothing costs nothing.

But nothing is ideal.
Be that mess and own it!

You solve one thing and you mess up another, overwhelmed and hypersensitive.
Pressure from activity.

Pressure on me so I mess up things again.
The rain keeps falling.
And I keep messing around.

I am the stormy weather.
I try to blow dry.
But it takes forever and then I just blow off steam.
And it all keeps going on and on.
Things are wrong, things are too much.

It’s slippery.
It’s runny.
It’s a lot of pressure.
And somehow I find a way to dance in the rain at least one moment.
But after that I drop in a puddle.
And I have to crawl out and find a way home.
So I can close my eyes so I can dry up a little bit.
So I can be somewhat ok again.

But it keeps happening and it keeps raining.
And I can’t fly.
The rain is too heavy.
So I drop and mess it up.
The task.
One after another.
One thing solved and another failing.

I am falling and crawling.
And I can’t get out of this cycle, this puddle.

So I spread my arms and lie there for a while.
Until I’m able to get up again.
Start all over.
When it’s raining all over my body, heavy, steamy, slippery.
Breathe in and out.
Heavy stuff.
Heavy rain.

I feel so guilty.
So lost and needy.
I try real hard, but sometimes I am the pain.
Even though it’s the last thing I want.
Why am I like this?
Must be a really good reason.
For this to be caused.
By this lifetime.
I am so sorry.
The last person to deserve it is receiving the call for help.
The one that holds all the horror and the suffering, please please help‼️

And yet that person is the one to answer.
Is the one that helps.
Life in this world can be so cruel.
It is unfair.
Makes me want to leave because it’s better if I make that sacrifice if I can’t change.
But I know it’s also not helping if I leave, they don’t want me to leave.
But it also needs to stop so I need to stop.
Stop this suffering. 😭

She’s ready for a new chapter.
But is the new chapter ready for her?
She’s punk again as expected.
The cuts are holes for light to shine, from the lightning and thunder inside.

The plasters are lovers covering the wounds.
The Avocado for comfort and health.
The only way in which she takes care.
The rest is filled with beer and pain au chocolat.

For the pain, the discomfort, uncertainties.
The chains.
The chains remain.
The brain and tying ends together, pressure.
She’s getting ready.
Always getting ready.
But is she ever?

At least for the new chapter, the moment, she tries.
But it doesn’t feel right.
A little better after getting it together, over and over.
She’s never done.

Help me through, magic blue.
Help me through.
The day.
The day.
Oceans’ blue.
Oceans’ grey.
Help me.
Save me.
Let me be swimming.
In you.
To you.
A new beginning.
Start new.
Don’t let me hear a single noise.
Just your waves, a mermaids’ voice.
But no more banging sound.
Let me whirl and swirl, let me go.
Round and round.
To places I don’t know.
But seen only in dreams and heard only in whispers and voices of the sea.
Let me be that creature, let me be sparkly. ✨

I can’t go back to how it used to be.
And I think the universe should agree.
With me, definitely.

So now, where what when?
Trying what I can.
I wonder what’s the new big plan?

The wind blows slightly cold kisses.
My skin feels soft as it misses the blisses.

And the sun is hot, so I’m wearing shorts and a T-shirt.
I feel heavy lying down in the dirt.

After running, after walking the day away.
Getting things done and then I can play.
In the dark with my ***** all alone inside.
Inside my mind, I can play dead and hide.

Cause I can’t dance when nobody’s watching and there’s no place to look at.
I need to stare into something but all I see is lack of that.

Even when I close my eyes.
I’m losing balance, drop, can’t rise.
So I’m watching TV with too much *****.
I snooze.

I’ve done all that I could for the day so that’s enough, I just have to wait.
In a chaotic state.

I’m trying to have faith that whatever happens sets me free.
Cause I think the universe should agree.
With me definitely.

I still feel like my life has gotten way out of hand many years ago.
And it never turned around.
It’s never been ok anyway.
I’m just still struggling so much with this world.
But I remember a living condition where it was so damp that my wooden bed just collapsed for example as I was lying on it.
And then I was trapped in it because the center broke while the sides were still standing.
And I was just in there like: “I want to die”.

I was so tired already from everything that happened before.
I just couldn’t make it work.
I don’t know why I still can’t.
I’m always seeming to be stuck or trapped.
There’s always something happening that is not pleasant and I used to have moments that made up for it.
But to be honest, I don’t really feel it anymore.
Not much gives me pleasure these days.
And I’m using mechanisms that aren’t always the best but are the only ones that seem ok in the moment.
I know nothing lasts and I’m making plans and trying to have options.
But it seems to take so long, maybe too long.
I know it won’t stay like this and I don’t wanna go back to how it used to be.
I wanna move forward.

But some things just never seem to work for me.
Or they just get in the way of me doing what I want to do.
My brain is part of it.
The way it reacts to it.
I can’t just block it and it’s hard to try to just ignore it or even accept it, I have to keep trying.
But when am I gonna say that enough is enough?
That it’s just not working for me or that it has gotten out of hand.
Cause that’s definitely how I feel and it’s real for me for way too long and I try to make the best of it.

Tried to find my way in a world where it never feels right.
And it has been so horrible.
I’ve been stuck in trying to make it work.
Or just been seeking freedom.
And now I just close my eyes, but I won’t shut down and things are not ok for me and there’s nothing I can do.

“I want to die”, I scream so many times.
Like death is some kind of “utopia”.
Like freedom.
Like belonging.
That is what it feels like.
But I also know I will never be ready for it.
Until maybe that moment when it’s actually happening.

But planning it is scary to me.
Knowing it’s going to happen.
I’m bad at letting go.
But this world has never been ok, right or safe.
And I know it’s not supposed to be.
I knew it from the start cause I didn’t come out of the womb.

I’m always ready to leave.
Yet, I’m never really ready.
I lie inside my grave with my eyes open and my hands digging in the soil.
Still not closing my eyes and letting go.
Until that won’t open wide enough for my body to give in.
Till it completely falls apart.
Then I’d have to let go.
My old jacket is finally torn and falling and I am reaching out to that girl.

That girl that already found her way towards another place.
And I change into my new form.
Like I’ve been changing into different forms.
In my way here in this life.
But then I can finally completely change without it taking everything from me.
Finally be exactly what I want to be.
Home.
Why am I so scared?
To let go. 🥲

It’s probably not supposed to be easy.
I’m not supposed to be able to leave whenever I want to or need to.
That would not fit with the journey.
And the experience.
Being in this world, it has rules to it.
I guess I just have to be really brave.

I can make weird faces again with my stitches.
Yay.
Won’t take it for granted, I’m trying.
Not to take life in this world, seriously.

Seriously, there must be other places.
But every place has connections to everything.
Trying to let go of everything….
Before I go, letting go.

It’s easier to let go for me already.
When I know I can leave.
I feel broken and lost.
But I’m letting go of what’s bothering as much as I can.

But then…
There’s always something.
Always been.
Free when I’m home.
That’s how it should go.

That’s where you let your guard down.
And I’ve never been home here.
So maybe I can finally drop everything and fall down.
Forever when I’m gone.

If I can’t work towards my future, then I should accept my death
I’m mentally terminal

Intensely over it
Giving up with passion
Raging from the depth

Nailed to the ground
Dropped like a sack of potatoes
Fights are over

There is no more fighting fire
Just burning
Crawling through the still burning ashes

Stitches in my mouth
Blood and chocolate
My teeth on a string
Spitting blood

Everything I bite turns to red velvet
Paying in blood
For old ways to make it through the night
Infected wounds
Digging in the dirt
To take out the trash

Stitched back up
Like my stuffed support animal
Having to behave
No drinking

Just suffering, cleaning
Sitting in the noise
Always something happening
Distracting

Dealing with everything
Hanging by a thread
It’s not holding
Falling

It’s not working well
Holding on
Without drinking
And only eating
Red velvet

Has the courage to reflect on her own decisions.
Shares with us her feelings of love, pain and hope.
She gives advice and strengt hand brings along some greater visions.
And she learns from her and our journeys.
Which we share, sometimes from a distance.
No other mother I would choose, my sister and I are her only babies.
She loves with fire and persistence.
Here and beyond here.
A mother like you is like no other, that’s clear.

I hate to admit the only thing that makes me feel ok is beer.
Nothing works.
I want to not care.
But it takes forever to make my bed right.
To put the pillow down in the right position without distraction.
And I did put it down, but I got distracted, it went wrong and so I started drinking beer again.

And I know I should be patient.
I know I should be peace.
But I’ve been through discomfort too many times for too long.
That I find it hard to just accept it.
That it’s not ok and that doesn’t feel ok.
Life has never been ok for me, has never really been working.

Although I keep saying that I’ve done so much learning.
So I accept my fate but let it be over in the end because I can’t keep on doing this.
Over and over every day, trying to make it ok.
Please let me die in peace one day like I’m dying in peace and beer every night when I pass out for three hours on the couch.
It’s better than dealing with everything, although everything comes back when I wake up.

And I try to make things right before I start drinking.
Why has it come to this?  
It has always been like this.
Just in different ways.

Eating, exercising, not eating, trying to compensate for eating…
Running running, running running running.
Or just screaming.
Drinking, drowning, puking, wishing I could be puking.
But just passing out again.
Because it takes forever to make life work for me.

I didn’t come out of the womb, I didn’t want to.
But now I know, I had a very rough journey to get through somehow.
And I’ve had the best people in my life that I could wish for.
But one day it should be over and it shouldn’t take too long.
I shouldn’t get too old.
I’m so done done done done done done done done fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting trying trying trying trying trying.

Even giving up and it’s not even stopping the pain.
Not entirely, although it helps a bit to give up.
Please understand, just have compassion.
I have suffered all of my life in many ways and I still am.

But I am working on a good end to all of this.
Let’s finish this book of horror and pain, agony, and intense torture!
And yes, I had good moments.
Yes, I had the best of company.
Yes, I try to be free and yes, I had adventures.
I’m grateful, I’m ok with it.

But I’m NOT with the continuous suffering!
And I know this life isn’t fair, but really it is so so so so so so so so unfair in many ways.
Not just my life, I see it all around.
Some people found a way to manage it, but I have NEVER been able to really.
And DID I try!
I tried.

This life, a journey full of pain.
It’s ok, but I’m done!
I’m holding on, but I hope for the end.
And I hope I can hold on for a good one, a good end to all of this.
I owe it to myself and to the people in my life.
But if it’s not possible, then that’s also my journey.

And I hope it doesn’t have to come to that, but if it does, it does.
And I’m just being honest because that’s life, that’s what it is.
That’s this life.
I heard the song by Mark Knopfler on the radio at the hairdressers today, ‘What it is’.

To you:

I made a mistake today.
Can’t fix the pain.
I am the one that hurts you.
Again.

Oh no, you’ve got to fix me.
You want to fix me.
I can’t be fixed and I’m that bad.
Again.

Help me, save me, I’m a witch burning.
Still burning and being in pain.
Your pain.
My pain.
My intensity, good, bad and horrible.
Torturing tension.
Sensitivity.

I want to **** that ***** that’s inside.
I want to be ok.
I want to be good.
To you. 😭

I want to live life as a dream
Laugh it all away
Like flowers in the wind
In April and in May
But instead, there’s a storm
So I call my mom inside
She tells me it will be ok
And spreads her arms so wide

I have no right to judge.
I am the same, I have become the same.
I have no reason to change, although I have someone I care about.
But my perception of life remains the same.
And I’m not able to help anyway.
Not more than I am now, which is from a distance.

So why should I stop what I’m doing?
I can only make steps towards any possibility of getting out of this.
But am I better or worse than the people that are toxic?
No, because I am too.
They are hurting, and so am I.
And nobody deserves to, but we are.
Toxic, hurting, irresponsible, human beings.

But I hope we will do our best, especially for the duties we got.
Having children is one.
Being a sibling is one as well
We may have a journey in life which we did not always ask for, it seems.
But we grow from it.
We need to somehow.
Like a task which for many is hard.
And for some it’s a too **** hard one to fulfill.

Parents aren’t always present.
And I hope that anyone will find anyone that will be there sometimes to care.
But we always got ourselves to blame first and need to have our own back when nobody else does.
These times are about changing patterns and behaviors.

Some of us are warriors in this battle.
Some of us are still trying to escape.
And for some, it seems too late.
They have died, but yet are still here, can’t be saved, can’t escape.
Not completely.
They are not sleeping, they are dead people.
Still walking the earth trying to manage what’s left of their existence.

Today I felt so lonely in my mental state that I gave a homeless man ice cream.
I had seen him standing there and sitting there in the same spot days before.
He was there again with his head in the sun bending down.

He told me that he lives in a tent.
But soon he would be staying at a hotel or even move to America with a group of people.
You could smell them from a distance, but what do you expect?

So I let him pick his favorite ice cream flavors.
He was friendly and I could tell that he was alright from his energy.
This is how two lonely people who don’t feel at home share a moment.
And it’s a little awkward.

But it’s better than to stay in your bubble.
That’s what it felt like.
And I hope it felt the same for him.
Just a moment to be seen and heard and not be all alone in your head.

Or sitting on the bricks in the center of the city he grew up in.
While I have traveled a bit through the country, but never found my home actually.
But I did meet amazing people, and I did have my adventures.
And now I don’t know what the next part of my life looks like.
Just like him holding on.

Although I have a very safe place, my mind is not, but I can’t complain.
I have everything I need.
Not like this man.
He only has the ice cream I just gave him this afternoon just out of my own loneliness. 🍨🍦

I can’t help but feel like it takes too much to be ok.
So, I’m not ok.
And I take too much.
I am at this point where people don’t always understand I’m not happy or grateful for life.
But I’m not apologizing for how I feel.
I need to be real and I try my best everyday and every night.

But I need to escape.
And I’m figuring out what is working still which is not a lot
But I’m loving the people that may make me feel a little bit more alive each day.
And the things, the little things, the moments where I can drift away from all that is hurting from all that is wrong.

Those things keep me going and are helping me to hold on and stay.
In the moment in the arms of the people that matter.

🩷🥲🤗🩷

Hugs matter, people matter.
Look at the homeless guy looking at nothing.
All of the afternoon.
He’s just sitting with all of his belongings.
On a brick and I gave him a smoothie and he thanked me in the kindest of ways.
And I just walked away, hoping that I gave him a feeling that he mattered.
Because that’s all that I could give in that moment.

And I only expect people to give what they can give.
Cause that’s all that matters, doing what you can and trying your best.
And if in the end, that’s not enough, then you’re still enough.
Because you are a fighter and therefore winning.
Because you’re always growing.

You experience things from many different sides.
So you know what feels right and what does not.

Young body recovering from the damage.
33 years.
But they seem 3300.
Mind dead.
Brain broken.
Spirit numb.
Can I die?

Only in death I’ll be saved.
From the noises.
From having to make the bed right.
From OCD.
Distractions, overwhelming, being stuck.

I can try to be safe in moments.
But things keep coming back.
So death, safe me from these.
I’m crying for you.
Day and night.

A project of love instead of a project of fear.
Killing my ego.
Step by step.

Fear coming from hope and expectation.
Letting go.
Not expecting, but accepting and trusting.

It’s all I can do.
Before I’m ready to leave.
I think I’m done with all that this world has brought.

But now I’m still taking steps towards leaving.
And that thought is soothing.
Also trying to be in the moment and accepting.
It is what it is.

My journey.
I won’t fight it.
It’s been torture but it’s a process.
My project.
My torment.
My breaking point.
Every time, the things that come back again.

But now I need to let go.
Killing my ego.
Step by step.

Be that mess.
You’ll get through it.
Again and again.

It’s draining and torturous.
So be that mess.
Embrace the dark.

Expect nothing.
Accept everything.
No matter how mean.

It’s so dark.
Telling yourself lies, little white lies.
To create little space.
To get through the day.

The dark is ok.
But not when you can’t sleep.
Not when it’s violently painful to be awake.

To live a life that never feels fine.
You just try.
But need to escape from this world.

Stuck in the moment.
And it’s not pleasant, draining discomfort.
Takes forever.

“You’ll find your peace” is what she said.
It’s what I repeat over and over now.
Daily and at night when everything feels so wrong.
“I don’t like it anymore” is what I said.
It’s what I repeat over and over now.
Daily and at night when everything feels so wrong.

“I can’t get it right, it’s not working”,
“I’m a part of my family so I can do anything”, “I’m save, I’m taking my time”,
“I do it the best way possible”….

It’s been taking too long.
It’s not working for me.
I’m trying to go inside but so much is happening.
Too long.
And not enough.
I need peace and something worth fighting for.
Not to just survive for decades.

I’m not ok with having to constantly find a way through things that aren’t.
Ok.
Ok?
No, it’s not.
No, I’m not.
I’m just trying to find my way out of this.
And not come back but I have to do it in a way that is not ok.
Cause I can’t stay, not even when I try to be save, inside, taking my time, doing what I can…

I’m so tired and lonely.
I want to lie in somebody’s arms.
Like a baby.
Connected.
And I want to escape from this place forever.
But I can’t find the escape, the connection or the right arms.

The right eyes don’t look.
The hands I love don’t reach.
The voice I long for is saying hurtful things.
The face I want to see is turned.
And the warmth I once felt for a moment turned into a breeze.

It doesn’t accept me.
It blows against me.
Pushes me down.
The last bit of hope to feel something other than the loneliness, the exhaustion, sadness.
It left me.

More empty, more defeated.
But what did I expect?
As if anyone would ever want to hold a baby that keeps crying.
That doesn’t sleep tight.
That is never happy to live.

Always so broken.
Lost in a world that it was forced into.
To live a life that’s way too much to handle and to carry?
Nobody wants to hold a baby that became a grown woman with too much hurt.

I long for that day where I can close my eyes and give up forever. When I’m able to let go. Peacefully. But maybe I will not go like that. Maybe I’ll have to also fight my way out. I’m a Viking after all. And the waters were always dark. Wild, wavy, deep. So I couldn’t rest. So my skin cracked, my eyes stung. I haven’t been soft since childhood. But I do know what caring about someone means. And music is a medicine that helps more than anything ever could. Doctors could never give me anything that helped. This world has taught me so many lessons. Has made me experience so much. Hopefully I can use this to get a broad perspective on existence. I think I will. But for now I don’t know where my ship is sailing. Not in calm waters. That’s all that I can say. I want to sleep. I want to go home. I want to sail towards the sky. Drown into the deep sea. And never come back to the shore of this world.

I’m a curious child sitting in a tree. Looking at a different world beyond hers. And it’s different there. Some things are better, some are worse. They have mercy but rules. She has no mercy but freedom. So she calls out to the God from the side she views. Asks for mercy from that God. Even though she can’t be part of the people that live there. The God still hears her. And understands it’s not for her to be there. But she needs to feel mercy. So he sends it to her anyway. Letting her finish her journey in her own world. And she is free but she’s watching and listening to other worlds. She picks up what she needs to. Discovering what belongs to her. She doesn’t judge. Just sees that there are many journeys beside hers.

I’m tired.
You’re tired.
Sleep required.

But things are not right.
So staying up. Pouring a cup.
Hot chocolate…

And later fixing, always fixing things.
And the day was overwhelming so drinking. Shutting down, feeling worse than before.
Of course, a cycle of more, more, more.

And less rest, stressed.
I’m not alone, yet so alone.
Not a home, not a place.
Parents from back in the days saving face.
Not the children.

Like having them was also just a social construct.
And it hasn’t changed.
But now parents are supposed to give them a choice.
As if they have any.
Being put in this world.
It’s empty.
Sad and demanding.

So we freeze or escape.
At least we try to.
But some need to stay, it’s not their time to.
Not their time to leave.
It goes on forever, torture, pain, fighting, grief.
So much learning, developing, experience.
Never ending.
Story.
Telling.
Finally telling.

No longer covering up truth pouring out from our insides.
No more.
Lies.
Saving face.
Just crying and sad.
Save us!
Let us be, set us free.
Let us go.
World of sorrow.
Let us live.
Not be dead in here.
Die in fear.
Let us run and escape.

Fly like heroes.
Take our own shape.
Have our own love.
Find our kin. From whitin, fly above.

Above the pain that’s been going around.
Cycles finally broken and we are found by mothers of the universe.
We are loud, proud and free.
Having experienced this for eternity but now finally we come out.

So empty, too full.
She gave all she could.
But pouring water kept her from breathing.            
Well then what is left to do but drown?

But then look at them judging, why ain’t she swimming?
Can’t breathe, can’t breathe.
They stand there and tell her exactly what to do.
From the sideline.
All she ever asked was for them to understand why.
Why she drowned and sank.

But it was too much to ask so she drowned alone again.
And this time she gave in.
She gave up and blocked out everyone who never listened to her begging.
Just understand that all she was asking was for you to believe that it really was pouring and pouring and pouring.
And it never stopped…

I need to think of myself as a soldier. In this war zone called earth. It gives me strength. To conquer these battles… 🔥🪖💥🔥 Only in death I may find piece. Mayday 👊🏻⭐️🫡🩸

Are you ok?
Why can I not be with the people that I love the most? Why do I not even know how they are right now? My mental health gets in the way. I’m not ok, ok? And I’m pretty sure you’re not doing much better than me. So from a distance here’s my love. I hope it reaches you. I might as well be dead. It’s just the same. But now let’s meet each other in dreams if we could actually sleep. I’d hold you like I can’t when I’m awake. I will never let you go. Not in death, not in my heart. We are together somehow. Somewhere, some time. Hold on until I can hold you. We’ll be ok, ok?

A man once told me a story.
He was a night guard at a facility.
About how when you do something out of love it’s no longer a task.

And I figured I could try to apply that for many things I have to do.

But nowadays it seems like even out of love it’s not ok.
Dealing with the same old.
I think that’s it, it gets old.
Even for love.

Love doesn’t have to get old but I do and the things I do to.
So even out of love doing them feels bad and exhausting.
It’s not going smoothly.
I’m also feeling lost and out of options to be able to get through life again.

Cause where can I go again?
And starting again feels like trying to fix an old engine.

It runs but it’s still exhausted.
It’s never fresh and new.