Friday, March 13, 2009

Replay value rose by 100%

I can remember it all so clearly now, and I miss my childhood paradise; how we used a part of an ice cream box when we cleaned the swimming pool, the sound of the pool when it was low on water, the small creek with the young trees that passed under the road, the rock where I went to be alone, the secret blueberry-patch, the shed where I first saw a girl naked, the field where we did most our mischief, the rotten bridge between my uncles' property and my aunts', the taste of burning straws, my neighbours' dog, the details about my schoolroute that I just can't remember, the mousetraps in the attic, the legos in my roof, the pine-cone-animals we learnt to make, the sap we chewed, the fantasy weapons we conjured up, the amazing view from our veranda, the plowing of snow from the yard and the various other flat areas, the annual christmas breakfast, our wheelbarrel, the huge rock next to the stairs that led to our main entrance where we occationally climbed just for the pure heck of it, grilling in summer where my dad incisted to sit in the shadow and eat hot dog, our huge and old couch, moms' puzzles, the carpet we had rolled up in the attic of the garage that had to be cleansed from a beehive, the painting and oiling of the outer walls, the little tube that constantly spat out water without me really ever understanding why or from where, the lamp that got smashed during a rough game of basketball, the garage where all our weird stuff and summer furnirue was stored, the dried out dragonfly I found and lost again, the scared cow that brought down our fence in a failed jump, the sheep, the berries my mom would make jam and/or lemonade out of, the chewing marks on my old bed, the puzzle of dogs which gave me nightmares for years, the smell of wild Globe-flowers, the bouquets of forget-me-nots that I picked for my mum, that part of a road in which there we just a path full of rocks and dirt where we rode our bikes cuz it was cool, our mailbox on the end that could be tipped sideways, all the houses that are returning to me with great speed right now, selling lottery tickets to neighbours to raise money for our football team or school......
*Sigh* I want a replay one time...

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Raaaaage!

I woke up today to a good day, I wished. It seems good days are all parts of fairy tales and bullshit. No, the good day probably exists, somewhere, just not in my cursed life. For what happens the moment I get up with a healthy attitude to the day at hand? Something rushes through the woods of improbability to intercept what could turn out as something as horrible and unspeakable as a friggin, good day. "Everybody says that Jeppe drinks, but nobody asks why Jeppe drinks." Oh I bloody wonder. Let's see if running water and cleaner body helps at all.
*showerbreak*
Well, I'm cleaner, that's for sure, but other than that there is little difference. I'm still in a black mood. I see little point in furter writing. 

Friday, March 6, 2009

On Crimes and Dreams

Would it be a crime if I were to dream a dream?
Would it be heard if I screamed a scream?
Was it you who lay your head there on my pillows?
Resting your eyes to the sound of the willows?

Serene as the light, you're in my dreams tonight
For with your memory I will sleep with delight

Even though you're far away from where I now sleep
You will forever surface from my deep
To bask in the moonbeams of my dreams' pond
To take me to happiness, bliss and beyond

Now I sleep deeply with you on my mind
Resting so sweetly, laying worries behind


So there you have it, my latest writing. Inspired by an anonymous beauty. However somewhat unexpected. Maybe it is love? Maybe it is destiny?... or just one of those things that happen. Who am I to know anyway? I can barely keep my head out of a somewhat dense, fictional reality anyways.