Until spring

I applied for a course in creative writing and got in. So I guess until spring I'll just be writing. Plus, in november I'm planning on participating in NaNoWriMo like last year - writing a novel in 30 days. The goal is 50 000 words and last year I wrote 26k which might seem like a failure but didn't feel like one at all. It's longer then anything I've written before and what do you know, this year I might finish. The problem is not actual writing but having the story move ahead, although about halfway through last year I experienced some kind of a "breakthru" and actually felt like my book was the real world, this physical version just something i'm doing to keep busy. Like the characters were telling me what happened rather than me making it up as I go along. A cliché I never thought I'd experience.
 
A few days ago I got the feels and sat down to edit a few picture from Cuba.
 

July

I had a dream I met Nick Cave and he was tall and handsome, like a vampire. He said to me, you are married to your soulmate and I said so are you.
 
small coffees, orangina on rough chairs by a pretty table. i want to be here with a mutual, live slower, simpler. i would be more easily pleased. perhaps i am not a traveler, but a settler.
 
i wrote my name on a stone at the beach.
 
having lunch, turqoise sky with half a moon somewhere up there (i saw it). last night i opened up the story and did a little bit of writing and editing. it felt like coming home to my own head. i felt everything so clear back when i wrote it. it's the best diary i could have from that time. now i'm floating, slowly going forward I suppose but there's a long way going until i will see things that way again. i was fearless. cus i was naïve. perhaps naivety is needed to be the person i wanna be.
 
a website asked me to take photos for them at way out west, then withdrew their proposition when i explained i don't do mingle photography.
 
i finished the Nix. I liked it very much. I loved the bits about the twins and about Chicago. now i'm reading accessible but also profound Here I Am by the author I fully rejected two years ago, Jonathan Safran Foer. it's easy reading. it also reaches me in ways i couldn't imagine, cus he writes of some of the things i am writing my own story about.
 
and sam shepard died.

May

I lay on the docks today, in the warm breeze, clothes rippling over my light skin, listening to ferries leaving the harbour. In a second hand store I found a copy of the Hobbit in such bad condition the pages come into my hands when I turn them. I'm reading it quickly, with care.
 
Got up late but still too early - sun has not come around the corner of the balcony. We're sitting in chairs with coffee and toasts. Woman across from our building pulls the shades up, fastens the curtains and opens her bedroom window. Open balcony doors everywhere. They've got the sun. I blast my favourite sixties playlist - I can't enjoy their sun but I can force Surf on them.
 
Repotted his plants in the sunshine. Took our bikes to the store. We made a silent promise to be better and bought nothing but greens and berries. Sunset dinner of home made sesame bread, oven mushrooms, onions and potatoes, sauce of feta and yoghurt, olives, seasoned olive oil to dip and wine. Then Game of Thrones. Blueberries and more wine. Better.
 
Want the beach under a house next to the ocean but there is no escape, only pause. But we go smoother in warmth.
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mars april

blir varmare
blir mer normalt
funkar bättre.
 
lyssnade på mitski och åkte hem från kuba.
 
nicke läser kapitalet. jag råkade kasta en penna hårt och tatuera honom - en prick mellan näsbenet och ögat. elvis depressedly spelade på holy moly någon månad efter han spelat dem för mig första gången. höll varandra i handen och var längre än genomsnittet.
 
det snöade en dag och vi satt på materia i majorna med varsin dator. tyst panik. ljus och oljud gjorde ont i öron och ögon. ville implodera, ge efter för det dåliga, smälta till flytande gift och förstöra. nicke började röka igen, en månad efter att han slutat medan jag var på kuba.
 
var förkyld i två veckor och kunde inte röra mig utan att hosta. maratonade oban star racers och lämnade inte lägenheten för att påskynda tillfrisknande. ville skriva meterlånga saker och måla från golv till tak men nästan inget från tanke till händer.
 
wearing nick's jeans and hugging him with monkey legs around his body
monkey legs all over like spirit
 
obsession! actions!
 
 
 
CHAOS
do not leave it there, give it a beat within, to create some air and lightness, and it comes through better
nowness and truth of nick cave — Loverman, etc — makes things clear
 
A mock sun blazed upon her head so completely filled with light she was
Her shadow fanged and hairy and mad
Our love-lines grew hopelessly tangled
 
writing... it should be like making love to someone you love. you stop when everything is good, when you know exactly where the story is going, and so the only hard thingwill be waiting until tomorrow when you do it again.

January 14th

man i wrote like 500 words or something here yesterday before hurrying out in the night, didnt save it cus it usually saves itself as draft - apparently not anymore. wasnt too important or anything but i was planning on posting it so..........
 
anyway hello i'm writing a book at the moment and so's why i havent posted anything here in a while. well no actually it's cus i hate this website and i would switch platform and everything if i just cared enough. i've more or less exchanged photography for writing too - yeah, a book - written 27k words in november after signing up for nanowrimo. didnt finish but whatever - got rest of my life to do that.
 
pictures of alice from june last year, before she left for nicaragua.
 
so yep basically done with photography for now, but then yesterday was the first sunny day of the year i believe and i got the camera out anyway. this is niklas and he's, well, my boyfriend.
 
 

Books

read in 2016:
  • Rendezvous with Rama
  • SAGA vol. 5
  • A Storm of Swords
  • A Feast for Crows
  • A Dance with Dragons
  • Fellowship of the Ring
  • On the Road
  • Oryx & Crake
  • Mockingjay
  • Crime & Punishment
  • On the Road, the original scroll
  • Big Sur
  • Harry Potter & the Cursed Child
  • Rum Diary (hunter s thompson)
  • Screwjack (hunter s thompson)
  • Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas
  • Catcher in the Rye
im struggling to find anything meaningful to post. not taking pictures anymore. what im writing is not meant for this blog or internet at all yet. i could write a bit of what ive done other than reading but i dont want to. you just think all i did last year was read these books, that'll be fine. this year i'm planning to finish the old man and the sea, dharma bums (kerouac), junky and naked lunch (burroughs), pride & prejudice, war & peace, and the inheritance books (about eragon) in english to start with. also re-read sputnik sweetheart and the great gatsby. then we'll see. yass.
 
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September

I need somewhere to write other than the little black book in my bag - i have barely written anything these past few weeks and it's cus my diary ended. Lovisa and I went downtown today cus Im off work and we bought one of these (thick books with 256 blank pages) each.

Tonight I read one of the most exciting things in my life - even in comparison to on the road can you believe this? - a feature on dazed & confused by an 'elijah cassidy' (obvious pen name) (and what a name—of course) and the text was about his adventures smuggling people into glastonbury festival. Brilliant tho flawed of course but BRILLIANT! And I burn again to write so maybe some day I can write like that. Aaaah im still mad about it. All Kerouac in dispositioning parts of story, what to tell of people, the in-between anecdotes knitting together current affairs with characters and traits. AH! And yesterday I saw Hamlet with Benedict Cumberbatch again and Shakespeare is all and that is only the beginning.

I watched Inherent Vice (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2009) again on my birthday, my 22nd birthday yes! And it was so good and still hexed me really so today I went to the library and got the book by thomas pynchon. the opening lines are exactly like the film (of course the other way around) and im excited.
 
My bday was great - we ate at this burger shack on kvilletorget, hisingen called barley's food factory and the food was so good. Lovisa was there of course and also Linn and Alfred. We all had vegan burgers, Alfred's with cow cheese cus he's weak, and staggered home dead full through sizzling rain. Actually two of us had umbrellas and we shared and I took a picture. I've been using my granddad's old camera, the minox 35 GT, since i got back from Denver. Film's black & white and im excited to see the pictures, tho I know they'll be shitty cus i took some in bad lighting and there's only blind manual focusing.

The smuggler story has been taken down from the website. I'm really sad, i wanted to read it again it was so good.

I dunno how i feel about joining the orchestra again. The kids are all kids and that would be fine if I could just rule with my violin skills with Lovisa, but I can't cus I haven't played for so long (3 yrs). I even play out of tune. I didn't think it'd come to that. I have trouble finding 3rd and 4th position. We practised together today which was nice but also so hard, realising Ive lost so much not playing this entire time.

Lovisa had au pairs from all over gothenburg (and the world) over tonight and they were actually nice girls. It was something to have 8 girls sitting chatting in our livingroom. Im glad I kept that big low table I found in the storage room. One of the au pairs told me I'd be great in glasgow, scotland. What of it? Maybe?

Reading Inherent Vice is awesome in the best ways - I get everything and Pynchon writes freely, like spoken. Good good and new input. I love reading.

Im thinking about Christmas, thinking I want that. I long for julradio and snow and longing - it brings the thought of loved ones, like a lover, to my mind too. I kind of never think about that anymore. It's a bit weird realising this. I couldnt really pretend to be in search for anyone cus i aint. I don't—I wouldn't know how to steer it through anyway. Ingrid's boyfriend called me cynical the other day and I guess I am now - cynical old (not old) writer with no one to love (except my actors and writers and dogs).

Lovisa has been taking me out for runs since she got back home, and we went out running again today which marks the 4th time in a week (wow) and practised violin too. And tho I fight it a bit I'm fine; I want it.

(Notes: Hard to move between identities? Hard to change identity?) I'm at the most boring and irrelevant lecture about Judith Butler's book 'Gender Travels'; lecturer cannot even speak correctly, I keep transcribing her words into text in my head and shiver out of horror due to awful sentence building. It's also steaming in the room and I just want to sit down somewhere outside in the sunset with a beer and read... yet here I am, surrounded by a sticky choir.

Reading many books at the same time isn't working out, I get too involved - like being in the wrong story. Got The Rum Diary (Hunter S. Thompson) and of course Inherent Vice from the library and also reading A Dance With Dragons since weeks back AND the Potter book, the Cursed Child, which I started last week in a moment of weakness... not working out. I cant wait with Inherent Vice and the Diary cus they're on library time and I need to read 'vice first cus Diary is probably better... wont be good the other way around. Need to get back into vice...

Linn jokingly called me out on being angry all the time after the lecture we attended on old feminist topics I didn't care for much, because I told her my opinion of it before she told me hers... I said it was lame and boring and she was amazed at how I can be so mad at something everyone else thought was 'soo gooood'. She also said she's become more cynical of late and it's maybe from hanging out with me.

It's too hot to put on my headphones, too hot to shut out the city noise. Shades on but the moist unnatural september warmth has made the city limp, stumble numb in shock. Headphones not needed, seems grotesque almost to shut out stillness like this. 'Miss, can I sell you a Faktum?' One thing never touched by weather; consequence of no headphones. 'No, sorry.' He gives me a reprouchful look, like he's offended, expecting at least a lil chat with the miss.

Was interviewed for Ramona Magazine by sophie pellegrini. I wrote my answers like I write anything, and she 'corrected' my personalisations. Made me angry at first but then realised it means I actually put in some of myself writing it. Can't blame them for wanting unity on their site. I only wish I knew what she thought reading and editing it - first paragraph I state I'm a writer as well as a photographer.

Finally beers (I actually wrote bears first—get out) or actually coffee, chocolate, red wine, with alfred at Bar Centro, the place where they only take cash. Cashier is really nice, like AT IT man, beyond looks. Then beers at holy moly. Alfred's moving to spain on monday.

Poetry club yesternight with Linn, we didn't read anything and the readings were absolute SHITE, except for one almost 90 yr old man telling stories from his youth. That was ok. Rest pure hell to endure, even coffee was rubbish. It was at Bengans the record store - never having coffee there again. Man behind the counter flirted with Linn before we even opened our mouths and I killed him giving Linn no need to speak with him. L was amused. Everything was horrible. We bolted for the flat, talked books and had beers from her fridge. She lent me a book of driving theory and M Train by Patti Smith. Talked about leaving town come spring. I have to.
 
 
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Maja

Maja Björsne - photographer/writer (her work's up at www.majabjorsne.com) working for local website/paper, been online friends for years but didnt officially meet until recently. love meeting talented new friends though. met up early june on THE hottest day, took to each other immediately as presumed and spent better part of that afternoon taking no-pressure pictures of each other, sneaking around courtyards trying to find cool shady places. Chatted of photography of course and then summer adventures to come, travels, favourite authors ... excitedly.
 
 
 
 
Well this was almost two months ago, then what happened? Hung out again of course after said summer adventures, and just now she popped by my flat to borrow one of my lenses for a photography job. 'Im in town indefinitely - let's make our next meet-up a longer one" -- i agreed.

Alice

May 31st, tuesday
 
last day of may; alone on my balcony, julio iglesias on vinyl inside, 10 pm yet sky is still a soft light blue. been pouring all day so air is moist and heavy with earthy fragrances. Lovisa's birthday. I just got home from stockholm spending the weekend with my cousin ingrid, her boyfriend tore, her best friend emma, and tore's roomie, dennis.
 
last night me, emma and dennis watched game of thrones and ended up with way too much lust for life to go to bed, and so went for a warm summer night walk, playing around the neighbourhood for hours. climbed the playground, sprinted a football field, made cartwheels, told stories. dennis told me the best and craziest stories from his childhood (i've just finished my lil black moleskin and was foolishly stranded without paper this perticular trip but those stories - he's just gold). emma picked flowers, dawn somehow just around the corner, and sure enough - back in the boys' flat was the emerging 3 AM sun, flowing in rows through the blinds, allowing me to read a few pages of dostoyevsky before passing out on their sofa.
 
---
 
pictures: introducing my flatmate alice - skater, adventurer, vegan master chef (instagram @vegangrool).

21 april

night after the news. we didnt leave the flat for two days except for hitting bars after running out of beer. not to soothe pain but because there was nothing else to do.
 
so prince is dead too. i have never in my life felt alone as i do now. not talking about loneliness, not the physichal thing - i'll try to explain. i write things down here but not for you to read - you are reading it but it's not for you; i dont believe in you. you don't matter. you are not. i believe in a few 'people' only and between them, in reference to them, i am, alive - something. existing. not dead. all other people - not important. not existing.
because my existance is not relative to these others.
 
i dont give a fuck. i take a deep breath and i dont give a fuck. but im also loosing it cus my pillars - my real people - are being taken away from under me; im crying in my bedroom - im staring blank into my own reflection in the kitchen window, no clue why im cleaning the counter.
 
-
 
i didnt post this then cus i felt it too harsh but seems fine now