Tucked into my small frame, rest the souls of many persons. I’ve been so many versions of myself throughout my life, and surely will be many more. Different desires, different lifestyle, different references. As the piece of another soul rattles…
Tag: Pandabear
Breaking the fourth wall
When I was younger, I used to think I had all the answers. Now I feel like don’t even know the question – if there even is one. Very “Hitchhiker” of me. I guess I’ve always had a bit of…
Escapism or a lack of purpose
I haven’t been writing much lately. Inspiration left me long ago to go fuck someone else into mediocre poetry or some bullshit paragraphs of gibberish no-one reads. In her place, the brain-dead nothingness of a purposeless life has made herself ever-present…
My biggest fear
I’m heading for a cliff’s edge where no bridges have been built. I worry, not to fall over, but to foolishly stand there looking over the drop. I’m on a pursuit for a path that not only feds the passing…
The stillness
Suggested soundtrack: Today I changed the wallpaper of my phone. Behind the icons of the few apps I regularly use and the multitude of apps I no longer remember when I used last, is the torso of a spectacular looking…
A perfect day hiking next to Mt. Marmolada
For about a week, Pandabear and Bambi came to visit. It was that pleasant peace that comes in the company of good friends. We decided that one night we should stay at a mountain refugio which turned out to be…
Where no one knows your name
This week Pandabear came for a visit. It provided that provocative ‘escape’ that only appears when you are in the company of someone who does not fold when you whiff them off (‘Trust issues’ much?). For hours he pushed for…
Smile for the cameras
It never used to bother me that the purpose of life hid somewhere over the rainbow. I took pleasure in the search for it. Lately what was a happy search has turned into a battle without weapons, a boat ride…
Bellum omnium contra omnes
Armed with two 60 cm long green pillows, Bambi and myself walked through the tourist crowded streets of Barcelona. Fifteen minutes later feathers soared serenely in a “setting-sun”-atmosphere filled with battle cries, laughter and the numb sound of pillows-in-movement hitting…
Breaking the silence
On Mr. Posh Spice‘s request, I break a silence I had devoted to work and novel writing. Not being a man to ask: “how are you doing?”, he instead referenced the regular “emotional-status-report” he apparently view my blog as. During…