söndag 30 december 2012
Uncover
I've spent seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years in self inflicted darkness with my eyes covered in the blindfold of my fears and untrust. Now in the moment where I decided that the time has finally come to allow myself to see and understand what I have been hiding from, I suddenly find myself standing in a desert alone. Thirsty and craving for freedom I run and the sand slaps me in the face, my tears struggle to fall, my feelings are in battle with my conscience, my mind is at war. I keep running feeling like my heart is beating out of my chest and I look behind me trying to find out what I'm running from.
Nothing is there to be discovered and I realise that I am running from myself, nevertheless I will not stop, I can not stop. My own self is the threat to my existence.
After all this time in blindness, vision is overwhelming. I try to grip the hands of time to beg it to stop passing, to stop leaving me behind in all my despair. Time will not listen and my hands are benumbing in the constant wait, outstretched for someone to hold.
Eventually the scenery around me changes, I find this a proof that nothing is everlasting, a proof that I am human and my life is a circle of events - I am a footprint, a breath, a kiss, a muscle contracting from pain and agony. I am an embryo, soon to be fetus, soon to be a baby entering this world hearing the vibrations of my own screaming… Little waves, little atoms, little beings. I don't want to be here.
I undress and leave my skin covered in nothing but hope, the same hope I thought I had lost somewhere along the line of the roads I have fumbled to find my way in. I dive in to the ocean of my emotions and discover that I can not swim. I feel my lungs filling with disappointment, betrayal, loneliness, anxiety. My body is gradually heavier and I sink deeper and deeper. A white light flashes before my eyes and I feel myself becoming one with the water, becoming one with my senses. At last, peace.
torsdag 27 december 2012
Old school
N.E.R.D - Provider
"I don't wanna be another cocaine story
Will I find my sanity
Where I find my glory"
måndag 24 december 2012
fredag 14 december 2012
torsdag 13 december 2012
"Something always brings me back to you"
onsdag 5 december 2012
tisdag 4 december 2012
All of a sudden it comes back to you
JAG BRYR MIG INTE OM DÖRRKRANSAR OCH JULGRANAR OCH LUSSEBULLAR. Jag bryr mig inte om att det är vinter och jag bryr mig inte heller om de som tycker att det är trevligt, än mindre bryr jag mig om de som tycker att det är förjävligt. Faktum är att det finns väldigt lite jag bryr mig om just nu. Jag känner mig som en vätebomb som väntar på att sprängas, invändigt. Så skulle jag förvandlas till den fövridna varelse jag tycker mig vara. Så kunde ni alla se, hur jag egentligen ser ut. Förstörd, förruttnad, förnedrad, förvriden och förstenad i detta tillstånd, orörlig så när som på fingrarna som drar i håret och naglarna som skär i huden. Det gör inte ont, jag vet bara inte vem jag är.
"Would you still love me if I unzipped my skin and showed you how I was rotting from the inside and out?"
"Fear is a funny thing" I say out loud so the whole world can hear me laughing at it, whilst it's eating me from the inside. FEAR FEAR FEAR. I'm afraid, I'm fucking scared to death of what's happening inside of me, around me. If I was ever doubting myself before, doubt is not enough to describe what I'm feeling now. I can see my flesh being eaten by all the things I don't understand, until all that's left is bones. I can see my bones being chewed up, spat out and as I leave the remains of my body my empty laughter is suddenly filled with meaning. It was all a stupid game, a game I failed to play.
söndag 11 november 2012
torsdag 8 november 2012
Plain
För varje hårstrå på din kropp finns en önskan
om att bli sedd
hörd
älskad
berörd.
Och
efter allt,
som du tror att du har funnit i mig
allt som du tror att jag kan
se
höra
känna
beröra.
Allt detta
som jag har sökt att lära men inte funnit någonstans.
I alla nyanser av färg i dina ögon
finner jag mig liggandes tryggt i en vagga
i ett rum
i ett hus
på en kulle
där det är storm utanför,
skyddad
tills jag inte längre ligger där
och stormen ännu ödelägger allt i sin väg.
Även hos mig fanns förhoppningar
förväntningar
önskningar jag inte längre önskar mig.
Jag tänkte framåt och såg det här.
Jag har ett helt rum i mitt huvud
väggarna täckta med bilder på dig
där du stirrar rakt igenom mig och skrattar åt mig
där du skriker på och gråter efter mig
jag har tagit dessa bilder på dig
de ska jag alltid bära med mig
så att jag alltid kan se
dig
så som ingen annan ser dig.
tisdag 30 oktober 2012
Aussi beau
I have finally seen "Paris, je t'aime" which is a series of short films, all shot in Paris and cut into one normal length film. Each one was entertaining but some (below) were slightly more beautiful and very much more touching.
Fauborg Saint-Denis by Tom Tykwer
14eme arrondissement by Alexander Payne
Place Des Fetes by Oliver Schmitz.
Fauborg Saint-Denis by Tom Tykwer
14eme arrondissement by Alexander Payne
Place Des Fetes by Oliver Schmitz.
torsdag 25 oktober 2012
Var ni kära?
För inte så länge sedan
frågade jag min mormor för första gången om hur det gick till när hon gifte sig
med min morfar. Jag satt vid matbordet i köket medan hon plockade undan lite
småsaker som låg omkring. Hon kan aldrig sitta still, min mormor.
Hon berättade att morfar,
som är några år äldre än henne själv, länge hade varit kär i henne innan de
fick lov att gifta sig. Han hade frågat om hennes hand gång på gång, men hennes
mamma ville inte ge bort sin dotter till honom, eftersom hon ansåg att han var för
ful. Jag satt där i köket med ett leende på läpparna medan mormor beskrev hur
hennes pappa till slut hade sagt till morfar: ”Ta henne, bara ta henne!”. Så
hade de alltså kommit för att ta min då lilla mormor på 16 år till giftas.
Mormor berättade att ingen
såklart hade talat med henne dessförinnan om vad som sker när en gifter sig.
Hon berättar om hur en bekant stormade in i hennes rum på bröllopsdagen, medan
hon satt och blev sminkad av några äldre kvinnor i släkten, och utbrast ”Men
hennes kinder är ju redan så rosiga, sminka dem inte mer! Han kommer ju för
sjutton bita av dem!”. Vad kvinnan då inte hade förstått var att detta yttrande
skulle leda till att min mormor gick runt med händerna på kinderna i veckor
därefter.
Medan jag smuttade på min
kopp med kurdiskt te fortsatte mormor sin historia och beskrev även med en fin
liten demonstration hur hon i hela sju dagar efter bröllopet hade vägrat att låta
morfar komma i närheten av henne. Hon hade varit så rädd för honom och det där
hemska som skulle ske när en gifte sig. Men som med mycket annat i livet där och då, fick en lära sig den hårda vägen. 'Learning by doing', jag undrar om inte någon där någonstans i Mellanöstern skulle ha gjort anspråk på det begreppet.
Jag log mot min älskade
mormor, road av hur våra liv och uppfattningar skiljer sig och en tung känsla
av sorg lade sig tillrätta, djupt inne i bröstet, för alla delar av mig som jag
redan har begravt inför henne.
Krona
I started writing some bullshit
about how I feel like I'm standing in the middle of nowhere
where everything is covered in snow
and there is nothing to be seen or heard
and how every time I take a step forward the wind blows away my footprints
and I lose myself again.
(I can't recall where I came from
and I don't know where I'm going.)
But then I remembered that I ordered an iPhone
and what little hope I had left for myself and how special I am is just drained
dripping out of me in the shape of little beams of sweat
and I think to myself that my body is ringing the alarm
telling me to run, run, run, run
RUN BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.
But little does my body know
it is already too late
and there is no going back
because I'll have that thing dropped in the mail in four weeks
so I can join in on modern happiness
and share with the world my everyday meals.
But what does the world share when they don't eat?
When the appetite is gone as well as their sleep
and the smile on their lips and hope in their eyes
and love in their heart and warmth in their soul.
When all that's left is cold
and even five sweaters knitted by grandma don't protect you enough from freezing within.
I'm dying to know
and I'm dying to eat
and I'm dying to sleep
and I'm dying to smile
and I'm dying to love.
But it's just cold
and I'm just dying.
about how I feel like I'm standing in the middle of nowhere
where everything is covered in snow
and there is nothing to be seen or heard
and how every time I take a step forward the wind blows away my footprints
and I lose myself again.
(I can't recall where I came from
and I don't know where I'm going.)
But then I remembered that I ordered an iPhone
and what little hope I had left for myself and how special I am is just drained
dripping out of me in the shape of little beams of sweat
and I think to myself that my body is ringing the alarm
telling me to run, run, run, run
RUN BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.
But little does my body know
it is already too late
and there is no going back
because I'll have that thing dropped in the mail in four weeks
so I can join in on modern happiness
and share with the world my everyday meals.
But what does the world share when they don't eat?
When the appetite is gone as well as their sleep
and the smile on their lips and hope in their eyes
and love in their heart and warmth in their soul.
When all that's left is cold
and even five sweaters knitted by grandma don't protect you enough from freezing within.
I'm dying to know
and I'm dying to eat
and I'm dying to sleep
and I'm dying to smile
and I'm dying to love.
But it's just cold
and I'm just dying.
söndag 7 oktober 2012
Wake up call
I thought I'd draw attention to this video by Keri Hilson. If you take time to watch it you will hopefully see exactly what I saw, a beautiful woman who has made the choice to follow the path of sexualisation of the female gender, enabled and conveyed by patriarchy. And with these words you will hopefully change your opinion, assuming your opinion is the same as mine was the first time I saw it. My spontaneous reaction to this video was an extreme feeling of resent toward the women in the video, specifically Keri Hilson, thinking that THEY are sending out a horrible message to young girls who watch this with admiration in their eyes. I watched it again, I gave it another thought and I realized that blaming the women was the worst thing I could do.
Women are NOT to be blamed for the medias ways of sexualizing them. And being against this way of portraying the female does not mean thinking that women are not allowed to be sexy. A woman is entitled to be exactly how she wants to be, without being judged. If watching this video makes you feel something, anything - indicating that its images are wrong and harmful to the idea of the female, please ask yourself where this tendency started and why it is accepted. We live in a society where the woman is expected to be beautiful, sexy, inviting yet not "loose", and so on. Women are not objects, and neither are we pets whose attributes are to be decided by the general, discriminative ideas of the patriarchal society. It's time to fight against primitive gender roles and discrimination. Dare to be aware.
Prenumerera på:
Inlägg (Atom)