should i?

2007 is closing up, maybe faster than i'd wish for. new year's eve will not be as i had hoped, but i'm used to things changing now, diminishing, and i cope with it better than i used to. still, it sure can throw me off track for minutes easily counted.
2006 was probably better than any year previous. last year i found strength through the new best friend B, this year i have truly been breathing that strength. he still sees me cry, and hates me for it, sometimes. but the times lessen as time goes, and i can truly say my teenage years, my childhood, is behind me and i have let it go enough to smile every day.
my dad called a couple of days ago after six months of silence. and he actually said he had expected a christmas gift from me. come on! was that your sorry for not calling me? dinner tomorrow will be painful.
i got to interview a new interesting person yesterday. her wisest words: "what needs to be repeated is no longer certain."
that is beautiful. now i repeat that pain over and over again, maybe to make it less certain.

this was a good year. a lot of days with happy endings, as a friend of mine wrote. i own a studio with my best friends. i study film. i live by myself and can live with myself. i have spent countless nights laughing and crying with the person i love most. i have made wonderful music with my sister that i finally connected to on a deeper level. i've been happy more often than sad.

//a.

running

the past two days i've been running. it's less than a mile, and i don't even run half of that length. but still. i'm not running for health reasons, except perhaps maybe mental. i don't feel good when i run, i feel terrible. all those memories, and realities, and truths fall over me and it aches and hurts. but i need to feel bad sometimes, to get back to being happy. i don't run from my problems and my pain, i run within it.

today.

unsettling loneliness

i always claim you have to learn how to deal with loneliness, learn how to be alone. still it's the thing i'm worst at. i can't seem to get a grip on the dirty dishes, the canvas wanted to be filled with colour, or the book needed to be written. i just breathe anxiety while surfing through the web, maybe writing some lines here and there, chatting with nobodies and somebodies, and feeling terrible. i have no disciplin when i'm alone, i feel no calm. i need to get over this. it's not that i'm unhappy, happiness is only a short drive away. i just need to find it here too, with only myself as company. but... i don't want to find it now, i'd rather just rush off to find it in their presence. this is unsettling.

älska mig när jag är naken.

the paintings

the camera does not give a fair picture of these paintings and the colours are all wrong. but i'm not gonna care. i have them on my fucking walls, i know what they look like :)
the first one is called "sitt med mig när jag visar brösten" (acrylic on canvas, ink, steelwire). the second one is "plåster" (acrylic on canvas, ink, steelwire). last but not least; "your actions" (acrylic on canvas, ink, steelwire). the note says "our actions echo in the sands of time", something i uttered a few years back.

50 cent & bukowski

i never thought i'd be the kind of person who would go to hartwall arena to watch 50 cent and his g-unit. but i never thought i'd read bukowski either. this is a balance i live and love.

tomorrow we're off to helsinki and i'm sure it will be another of those perfect weekends. i've been in luck when it comes to the south of finland, the friends i have there, and the things i learn. going down with my crew for an awesome show, then going to the guru's crib to chill. it's all music to my ears, and oxygen to my lungs. in the company of people i love and respect.

if you leave - i wouldn't regret one euro spent or consider any day, hour, minute or second of this year wasted. you brought me life, i wish she could see.

"i am a writer. i am more interested in humanity in general than i am in pussy in the exact."
- c. bukowski, from his "tales of ordinary madness".

thirty seconds to euphoria

today i finally went online to hunt down 30 seconds to mars. i dowloaded one song, and i was caught. i ordered the album a beautiful lie right away. i realized there are reasons to fall in love with jared leto over and over and over again. and this is what you think it is - the lonely teenager in me talking, she falls in love with all the sexy boys. but we all know that 9s marry 9s, and 4s marry 4s. i don't know where i'm on the scale, but i'll never marry jared.

but when i do get married, or if, maybe i should say - B's gonna walk me down the aisle, and it's with his blessing i'll love in peace. love you, bro.

//i'm twenty. i'm an adult.

lighting candles

make a stand. www.lightamillioncandles.com


House MD-marathon with B this weekend. one and a half seasons. in between cardiac arrests and "humanity is overrated" we managed to talk, he managed to get disappointed and i managed to cry. an average weekend for us i guess.
but he said that he just thought that if there was one person who could fully understand him, that it would be me. and it would, but no one can understand what even he can't. but if someone could, it would be me, and that's why he loves me. and vice versa.

sitt med mig när jag visar brösten

this has been such a good day. i've been painting and i actually love the result. maybe not so much because of the technique, the colours or existing or unexisting talent - but because of the feeling. the title is the title. i understand it, and so do you. that's enough.

i feel creative, and i feel appreciated for my work. yesterday i was asked to write a lyric, and i did it last night. today i got a short but sweet message: "dear alex! you're a genious!" lovely. i hope it's on the record later.

i also was asked to write something pro bono for my hometown's yearly magazine. it feels like a good thing to do. and i am a good girl, more or less.

and he said he was proud. i wouldn't settle for less.

sit with me while i show my breasts

that's why i love you.




she didn't believe me. i don't care. because you did. you do.
i said i was sorry. it was my fault. it feels almost good to say it,
to have gotten that far. a big step for me. it was my fault.
but you can't separate someone from the world they live in.
and i can blame my culture. no seriously, i can.
it sure as hell wasn't seriously meant. it sure as hell didn't
mean i wanted to make you look stupid.
it sure as hell didn't mean i had lost my love and respect for you.

truth will liberate us all. at least it did this time.




[he said: gonatt. bye. och vet du vad? love u.]

no, not today

i keep editing this post. i guess i don't know what words to choose to get this off my chest. it turns out wrong, from my perspective and yours. you need to understand i see it from both. i'm sorry for what i did and what i said, and i hope that you are too. i wish that even if you won't cry for me, that you could be sad instead of mad. this is just who i was, and whoever that was, she still lingers here. she always will. but if you love me, when i can't get near to loving myself, we can make her fade. we can hide her in the shadow of everything that has been wrong and hard in our relationship. we can hide her in the shadow of what we have now, or what we still can get back. this weekend brought too many tears, and no dancemoves or kisses on the cheek could make us forget. but forgetting is not what we need, forgiving is.

in short:
friday was spent at the hospital. you were there, and i couldn't have loved you more for it.
saturday i cried because of all that i thought i had left behind. you screamed at me to make me understand. i couldn't have loved you more for it. we danced for hours and i felt more than my face smile. but it lasted only for that short while. you drank and i misunderstood. you cried, told me stories, i believed and forgave.
today i thought we were okay so i cracked a joke to make it all better.
but now making this okay might last me forever.
you're the reason i'm breathing. i can't live if you don't love me.


can you love me?
- no, not today.

(so today, i am dead.)

FAQ

frequently asked questions this fall have been:
who am i?
what am i doing here?
what do i want to do with my life?
am i on the right track?
is this a shortcut turned bad?
will i succeed with what i do?
am i happy?

i feel like a teenager all over again, a bit lost, but still with hope that it shall all work out for the best. after stupid arguments i'm guaranteed a hug and an i love you - how many people isn't there in the world who don't have that? after failed assignments in school i get second chances to shine - how many can say they even got a first chance?

am i too lucky to know what happiness is?

.

i am an atheistic agnostic.

liebe and tea

Angst.
Liebe.
No fear!

that's the three photos i chose from albert braun's exhibition: Me, Myself, Nykarleby [the World] and Friends. i chose them because it's who i was, who i am, and what i strive for.

today i had tea with lisa. we talked about liebe and music, and the way both unite people. now i will spend some time with those who matter the most and experience alcohol and music, and watch the way they unite us.

this was a good day. one of many to come. //alexandra.

p.s. the pic is from a photo shoot i did with these two girls, låttah and hana. portrait of a friendship.

one of those days.

i've been feeling upside-down since the day you cried. that doesn't mean i don't care. that doesn't mean i hated your tears. that doesn't mean i didn't want to comfort you. it just means that i hate myself for still not being able to take action. to dry, to hold, to love. i freeze up and get lost. i'm too used to tears, but not others. please forgive me.


****************


and today is one of those days. everything is fucked up and i can't change my facts. computers are against me, hairgel is against me, money is against me, and people are against me. i breathe but i'm hardly alive.

this day and many to come.

i don't know what happened or why.
it wasn't something you said, so let it go by.
i was disappointed at my life, and you happened to point it out.
i felt i wanted to jump, or just light a joint then shout.
but i needed to feel bad for awhile.
i needed to cry to win back my smile.
at those times i need you the most, B.
coz when i can't, i need you to love me.

liten räddning en lördagkväll.

Jag medgav att jag undvikit, och sade att du också. Kanske för att vi båda sett det som det lättaste. Men du trodde inte vi gjort det aktivt. Att tiden var allt vi behövde. Bygga upp något mer än den intensitet jag levt och dött med förut. Bygga upp något som kanske erhåller sitt värde genom tiden, genom att långsamt så fröna till flerårig vänskap. Jag trodde dig, du var helt enkelt smartare än jag. Men ikväll fick du träffa den jag var förut. Jag sade:

att leva vid stupet redo att hoppa är inte samma sak som att leva vid stupet redo att falla.

Jag sade:

hon vill hoppa, jag vill falla.

Du sade:

fuck her.

something so beautiful.

it's hard to describe in words what you have come to mean to me. sisterhood and even further. we are not the same, just like me and B aren't. but still we are more alike than most. maybe just by the way we love each other. i will hide and protect you. love and defend you. laugh and cry with you. with you both. it's something so beautiful. //a.

sound & soul

i'm so happy we're finally there. a working studio. sound, soul, music, heart, brains, beats, lyrics. gah. the past year has been a fight to get where we are today. i'm glad i fought it with you. :)

check us out: http://themercenarycrew.blogspot.com

//alex - brains.

addiction.

it's scary how fast you get addicted to something, or someone. small things. like feeling the warmth of someone when you sleep. making tea for two. to never have nothing to do. not feeling lonely, ever.

he's just a friend. but still, i got addicted in a way. i got used to being two.

now the studio is usable and i return to the life i learned to live. //a.

my own devil.

"we are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell." that's what wilde said and i believe him. there is no outer evil greater than the inner. we soar high above ourselves not realizing who we are and what we cause, who we hurt. we too often forget about ourselves - we blame others, because it's so easily done.

sometimes i remember myself too often. i remember that i might not feel as good about myself as i should. i know i'm loved - i've stopped questioning that. now i question "why?". i fail in loving myself, still to this day, and i can't understand what it is that others like in me. is it merely the fact that i love them?

i've come to realize that no love is greater than the one that is gotten back in return, because a part of what you love others for is their love for you. how can you not love someone who would die for you, even if you don't like them. this is my problem. sometimes i doubt i'm loved for something more than my love for others. that if i disliked someone they could not in any way see beauty in my persona. but if i love them that is the only quality they needed to find.

i'm happy. i am. really. but i'm still my own devil, and i need his words to make this hell a heaven. "i love you for you."

so i touched your hairy legs.

the weekend was amazing. and it didn't have anything to do with the tequila i drank or the way the dancefloor was spinning. it had something to do with the alcoholic honesty, your words on respect, your hugs and the way you dragged me home in a beautiful drizzle. it had something to do with the way i fell asleep in your arms, it had something to do with a spoon.

you talked of friends forever and i listened and believed. it was the way we watched brokeback and the way we knew it was about real love. the way we both want to believe we know what it is - even if not together. so i touched your hairy legs as a sign of affection. i never want to let that go.

but when i have to, i will.

hip hop.

i can feel the flow now. don't ask me why. i'm not writing, it's not even that physical, it's all in my head. i see the possibilities, i see the potential. i see the passion, i see the power. i hear the other underground peeps and their flow is knocking me off my chair. i hear that they are real. i find courage and hope for this industry.
it's not all about bragging how many people you've killed, or how much bling you can afford. it's heart, soul and politics. it's about saving the world. honorable if you ask me.

//hip hop lover and lyricist.

this is a party to me.

last night was important to me. it was a mixture of serious, heartfelt talk about future and feelings, and a webcam-conversation about what we can do wrong and how to laugh at it when we grow older. it's going to be repeated tonight, with a touch of white wine and the feeling of relief not being shitfaced at some party soon forgotten by alcohol and a bad headache.
this is a party to me. a party for my soul.

no more, no less.

when people show you who they really are - believe them

that's all. said first by maya angelou.

who needs forever?

you love me now.

i can't talk about it, so i won't. the point is that i'd hide her under my bed if i had to. the point is you thanked god for my existence, for me being in your life. the point is that you're my best friend and i'd do anything for you.

it's true that love changes a person, and then it doesn't matter if it's friendship or true love. i was surprised of my own reaction when you told me everything today - and i'm happy the way i turned out, because of you. i was happy for you. truly, truly happy. this is what i always wanted for you, i know that now. i know you love me as much anyway, i know where you stand, who you are, what i am to you and vice versa. this is what i always wanted for you, so i'd do anything to make it all work out. don't be afraid to ask for that help, my friend.

ta ha loqken.

waking up at 2 pm

things aren't always what they should be. "things" seem to have a way of getting to you. i hate things.

today i won't have time to create, which seems no exeption to a rule, rather the rule itself. no wonder my body is telling me to slow down. my ideas pour over me at night, and the next morning i have no idea what the codes on my phone means. there might be a best-seller in there, in which ever way, novel, song, painting, but i can't understand it.

daytime i rush from one have-to to another dreaming of that single(!) glass of white wine and a blank paper and pen. at night i fall into bed laughing at jay or conan not doing anything creative.

i hate things. they have a way of keeping you from your heart's desire. but then again, i'd better trust ol' shaw.

"there are two great tragedies in life. one is losing your heart's desire, the other is to gain it."

//thing-hater.

the scream.

whatever fits.

being here.

me being here is not an act of fate.
do i write as an artist or a rebel?