Ehm…

I’ve got writers block.
I’m in shock.
The words are not rushing free,
How could this be…

Soaring around

Music flowing through my ears,
Why am I here after all these years?
All the same
sometimes it’s really lame.
Wishing and thinking,
Always- but still I’m sinking.
Sinking – but still I’m elevating.
Pencils and pages
I keep writing for ages.
Drawings and texts so odd and weird
I wouldn’t let it all out- I never dared.
In my head its all floating, not talking-
I’m not sure if this is called stalking.
The walls are rising to their former state.
No- this is definitely not hate.

As time goes by

Ever and never

Don’t be to clever.

Don’t waist your time,

Even if in your head it chime.

Don’t play that trick,

You’ll know you’ll get sick.

The walls they grow thicker,

In time it hit’s like a flicker.

Pefectly normal ??

It’s sneaking up behind you.
You are aware that is coming.
You ought to know – and be prepared.
You’re not.
You can’t understand that it can be so difficult.
You tend to forget.
You don’t realize it until it all unleashes again.
It has been like this for ever – at least you think so.
After realizing why you started to be down.
You look back.
You can see the signs when you read through what you have been writing.
You can see the reflection from your drawings and your pictures.
They all tell the same story.
More or less.
Some is more obvious than other.
But the in general you can see the cycle.
The product of the mind is always – in one way or another a reflection of your state of mind.
You might try to deny it.
I know it.
I see it.
I see the way you write
I see the way you draw.
I see it in your pictures.
There’s now denying it.
The moon is affecting you – either you want to believe it or not.
The moon is new – and you’re down and your blue.
Stop thinking – do your self this favor.
Why?
I want to be free and write what I want.
I don’t want it to hurt.
What can I do?
Think happy thoughts.
Think back to what made you laugh when the moon was full.
Those days when nothing can struck you down.
The light smile in your mind – so worry free.
You know you can pull through – yes you do.
But..
No But – Smile and be free – I know you will be!
All right – I’ll stand on my hands, and roll in the grass.
I’ll run through the sands, and hold up my glass.
I’ll think of the moments that makes me laugh and smile,
Now – go out of your deranged mind – and do it with style!

Deep down out of sight.

The world spinning around.

I’m always bound.

So many places,

So many traces.

I won’t make a sound-

All and nothing

Sometimes you jusy want to write everything that is going through your mind.

Other times you write to get an outlet – a way to vaulve out all the steam and preasure in your mind.

Sometimes you write because you feel blue

Other times you just need to express your joy.

Most of the times – i wish – i realy wish I could write and the insperaton would flow.

Most of the times  – i write – i write the way my thoughts runs most freely from my mind.

Somethings I write I might regret -but still there might be a reason why I kept it all the same.

Other times I’m smiling when I read through what I write.

I’ll guess I’m only human to – for better and worse…

A bird singing

The night has fallen – I should be sleeping.

I hear the wind in the trees, they are creeking.

My mind is to active, I cant shut it down.

I’m actually exhausted  – here on my own.

The  wind suddenly stops- but only for a while.

Still I lie here – here with a smile.

I can’t help I’m laughing – it might be a fix.

I know I’m still working – I won’t play my trix.

Somwhere deep deep below  – It’s all hidden well out of sight.

This is how it must be – I know this is right.

To all who might doubt me – know these are my words,

a part of me wispering – I leave the rest to the birds.

Staying but still running

Looking through my pictures from last year.
Looking for something that might not be there.
So many memories.
So much that has happened.
Things I had forgot.
Things I don’t want to remember.
Still remembering it.
Still I think I need to remember.
Where is that cat
Where can I store my memories.
The shadow is haunting me,
The mind is still clearing
I’m not lost any more
I’m more my self than in a long time.
No need for remorse
No place for bad thoughts.

Much about so little – or something quite different

Times and times over I find my self sitting here  in front of the computer writing.

I write a lot.

Mostly I write on paper with my fountain pen.

Actually I write with what ever I have in hand. Pen, pencil computer or typewriter.

Truth be told, I haven’t used the typewriter for a long time.

I’m not even sure where it is.

Back to the point.

When I find my self writing on the computer I usually do it on places like this.

I’m not sure why.

It might be because I’m attention seeking – but I think not.

If I was attention seeking, I would do more to publish this blog.

As for now I got very few followers.

I know for certain that one of them actually reads what I’m writing.

No – I can’t say that this is for attention.

I know it’s a kind of therapy.

Writing and drawing has always been a way for me to let out some steam.

However I’m often doubtful about pushing the “Publish” button.

Is there a chance that I’ve written something that will offense some one?

I might.

On the other hand, why should I mind.

I doubt that those who stumble across these scribbles even know who I am.

As for this they may lay what ever they want in to my texts.

I can of cause relate to all text in one way or another – so I know if the texts are pure imagination,

or if they actually means something to me.

Well. Every text means something to me one way or another.

I think that’s the basis in all we write.

if there were no meaning in the texts people wrote, there would be no sense in writing at all.

What I was trying to write is that I relate to the texts I write in many different levels.

Some might describe my anger, frustration with the world or my self.

Other is just pure thoughts spinning around in my head.

I can of cause tell them apart, and perhaps others can as well.

It all depends if they know me, or if I’m able to reflect my mood in my writing.

I don’t know how I manage it, I just write and write.

And still keep writing.

Suddenly one day I look back on my old scribbles.

Some I just laugh of.

Others makes me think.

Some is just straight out painful for me to read, as they might contain fragments which brings back some bad, bad memories.

I know we all deal with our problems in different ways.

I spend much time mending my self by using text, photo and drawing, as I’ve mentioned earlier.

One thing I could do is write such things down one place, in one specific book.

When I was through with it, I could just light the book on fire and forget all about it.

I’m sad to say, that I don’t work that way.

Sometimes I actually feel that I have to go back and read all the painful things I’ve written.

Maybe to remember how to forget.

I’m not quite sure.

It tends to work.

But not always.

I’m not quite sure how I got to this – but here I am.

What I was thinking of writing was not all this.

I could delete the whole post, and re-write it all.

I’m not going to do this.

At this point I’m again thinking to my self.

Is there any point in pressing “Publish”

Do I want random strangers to read all this.

Do people want to read such random words?

Then again – there are so few people reading this – so it really doesn’t matter any way.

Perhaps if I tagged it with some “hot tags?”

I won’t do that.

As I again have written  – I’m  not looking for publicity and many readers.

My writing just helps me get through my days.

Though ones, easy ones.

Every day deserve it’s own story.

I’m not the story teller – but I’m able to play my part and add a little something to the world wide web.

It might not be the best thing out there – but this is what you get from me.

Not much more to say.

This is Simply Writing

Yes.. Why not.

This is how it will be,

Sitting  still, let the mind free.

The silence engulfing my mind,

the fate is never so kind.

Enjoying this moment of peace,

you almost can’t hear them begging you, please.

It could of cause not last,

you were thrown back so fast.

The reality catches up to soon,

it was already noon.

What you fared would come,

the error was done.

All in all is not my fault,

telling them is like a poring a cut full of salt.

Customer’s shipment went wrong,

I don’t mind, in my  head spins the song.

Kings, life queens and eyes,

I wonder where my head lays.

Thinking and smiling,

laughing and crying.

At least for a while,

I sit with a smile!