hospitals and surgery and missing out on thunder

so much blood used for determining what i am and what is wrong with that. it's not that bad and surgery will be later on. hopefully. now i want to focus on getting to sweden. getting it all written out. spoken out. lived out.

spent the weekend away from thunder. unfortunately. spent the weekend with me and movies that made me believe in functionality. held your hand sometimes, cooked us dinner, watched them smile over pennies and choirs.

i think i've left him behind now. i admire them too much. i love my sanity too much. i fear heart break too much. for now. so many heart beats used for determining what he is and what is great about that. it's not good enough. i'm glad that's the case.

//sicky.

PS. the photo is me and my sister not being able to contain ourselves. it was late. it was misty. it was post-music-madness.

this is time passing

time passes fast during summer nights, hot and bright, during summer days of rain and vodka-dreaming reality-slips. i make up words to conquer my own anxiety and i wonder why my whole body itches. i hear her voice on the radio. it sooths me while my heart dreams nightmares about stockholm and losing what i'll never be able to call your loss. not mine either, since i never had it. you.

time passes fast and i'm sure you spent at least a minute reading this. was it worth it?

fog over the river and a hairy beast

helsinki and borgå were, once again, memorable. twisting and turning reality, but living, nonetheless. but it would be easier if everything was okay, if they were, if i was. but there's a time for everything, and this time it was musicians and late-night-taxi-rides.

this tuesday was also memorable. i was fighting the good girl in me and decided to let loose once more before my job starts (that's tomorrow). i went to a party arranged for the applicants to our school. i drank and i talked and i met up with beautiful people like T and K. i was laughed at, and with. i was hired, and we shook hands. i touched favourite hair, and non-hair.
quite early me and the T&K-combination made our way to T's. it was time for more drinking, more talking and a movie. 'round 3am K was falling asleep and i had to get him to a bed. mine was the widest. we stumbled through the little town, with fog over the river. we had no shoes, no barriers, and i had the beautifully haired friend next to me. i knew it'd be worth the hangover.

we slept, some more than others. snoaring is charming and all, but i could have made it without it. but i'm all smiles. a few hours later we stumbled to school. no shoes, but the barrier of being tired and sober. still i was inspired. i had found a friend. and that is how i go on. with life, and writing about it.

bizarre

the weekend in borgå with the loved ones was bizarre in ways i can never explain. it was all the booze and their unholy smoke. the way he held my hand softly. the way i waited to the very last minute to kiss him just as softly. the way i don't know if i will ever see him again.
my sisters, my brothers, from other mothers, from other worlds - we come together and i am not myself and i am myself more than ever before. on a train on the way home i listened to counting crows and i know there's always a reason if that's what i need, we need. mr jones and my green skirt, me humming in the night and his laughs. the one hour sleep, the sunrise walk we never took. and the way i waited to the last minute.

late sunday nights

i got a '77 minolta camera in my hand yesterday and rushed off to meet ulrika and try it out. we went crazy in the windy present with flashes and poses. at one point we laughed so hard i had to stop the car when i couldn't see anything because of all the tears. it had to do with latters and my stupidity. we will surely live a lot longer after that moment.

i hope the photos will turn out alright. it was a night worth saving. no matter if i get it in hard copy or not. i stumbled home sometime past midnight. i put on some wentus blues band and when i couldn't sleep because of nightmares i recited letters i'll never write.

//a.

p.s. as you can see some pics turned out beautifully.

filming - check!

now the filming is done and it's time for me to take over. in my solitude i will edit, color correct and bring out the essence of christian. i hope i will succeed.

the pic is of christoffer, my amazing photographer, and christian, the heart of the documentary.

BARNKALAS :)

my guests in order from left to right and down: alexandra, sonia, vijay, besfort (the birthday kid, turning 21!) and tommi. we ate cake and talked about sex. that's normal for a kid's b-day party, right!? :)