A not

As I am writing this I wonder who you are today. As I am writing this I wonder what you are thinking this afternoon. As I am writing this I wonder why we seem attached even though we don't really want to be. There is really no use for my pondering, it just sort of shook me to the core when I picked up the phone and your were on the other side. I have never heard you stutter so violently before. I have never heard you utter those words before. And I imagined your hands -- holding your phone, as you told me I was the one who had your heart. I imagined you face and your eyes, as you told me I was the only one who had ever understood you. I imagined your smile when I brought some of the old ghosts back to life, just like that, with a snap of my fingers. I've kept them close you know. Despite not wanting to. Despite fighting not to. You've stayed with me. Despite all that we were...

Kleerup – With Every Heartbeat - Feat. Robyn

Circle closing (honey)

This could be my song. If you knew how to express what you feel through words. But you don´t, you never did and that´s why I am still the one you love. Because I know of another way to be. I represent a different life and above all -- I'm a way out because I'm like her. But, I can't rub off on you honey -- you are too set in stone for that -- too hard on several levels. You've walked down too many roads: alone, head held high and hands in tight fists.You've seen too many fights, drunk too many pints and broken too many hearts. I can't save you, you can't save me and two broken clocks doesn't mean you can tell the time.

Josh T. Pearson – Sorry With a Song - Single Version

On screen (again)

Still like a movie. This life, with you in it. Still on screen next to you -- instant speed, instant charisma, instant shine. Still a book of your own. You just don´t know it yet. Still a page turner. And, you know (always) exactly what I want to hear. Grand illusions and even grander phrases. Magnificent plans and another voice saying exactly what I am thinking. Please, stay in my life this time. Please be there every now and again. I have to say no, you know that. But please, don´t go away again. You are someone I will always, always miss. One of a kind, translucent and magnificent. A piece of me, but in darker shades. Similar, so similar we could be siblings. So, stay with me through the distance. Hold my hand, but in a platonic way. That´s what I offer. That´s all I can offer.

Just stay.

Kvävd

I en kall vinter för länge sedan, (efter att jag hittat en skrynklig, genomdränkt lapp utanför en portuppgång) -- berättade en man att du och jag var bundna till varandra på fler sätt än ett. Han sa till mig att jag måste stänga om mig, men jag förstod inte hur det skulle gå till -- du var ju överallt. Vet du att det fanns nätter när jag vaknade kallsvettig och ropade ditt namn i min tomma lägenhet? Vet du att jag såg ditt ansikte reflekterat tillbaka till mig varenda gång jag gick utanför dörren och att mitt hjärta alltid slog ett extra slag -- även om jag någonstans visste att det inte kunde vara du. Vet du att du vandrat bredvid mig i så många månader efter den där kalla, ensamma hemresan på ett X2000-tåg genom Sverige? Vet du att jag kände dig genom alla minuter och sekunder som passerat och att just nu, i detta ögonblick -- är det värre än någonsin. En man sa en gång att dagen skulle komma när jag behövde göra ett val.

Vet du att jag redan bestämt mig?

Ane Brun – Balloon Ranger

Irish balls

How dare you call me? How dare you say that I have your heart? How dare you claim that you want everything with me and only me? One year later. You fucking broke me. My heart in the gravel and uncertain feet that frantically tried to shuffle forward without you. Through snow and debris, through our streets and all those dreams and memories that you left behind. How dare you say: "You belong in Ireland with me, Nina". After tossing me around like a single, ragged glove without a match. After weeks and months of silence in a desolate void. My dear: I am not your darling. My dear: I am not your woman. And, you are not my fairytale. You are not my dream. Not anymore. That train left the station a long time ago and no honey, it´s not coming back.

 Martha Wainwright – Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole

Little devil

You will always be some notes, some chords, a certain sound. You will always be fast paced energy, speedy, drunken stupor and excitement between pints. You will always be a certain time, a particular space and specific streets. I wonder sometimes: how you are, what happened next, who she is (you are giving her one hell of a ride, that I am sure of). But mostly: have you lost any of your demons yet? Have you found some peace? Have you fallen upon that harbor you were looking for? So, occasionally I touch that dial, I go for those keys, I linger over a face placed next to Mike Tyson -- but then I think the better of it and smile to myself. Because, some things are better when left in the past. Some things that are buried should stay that way. Sometimes memories are shinier and more beautiful when left be. So, I leave you there. In between days and chords and adventures. And what I wish for, what I hope, is that you are still brave, still shiny, still translucent, still speeding, but towards where you want to be rather than where you were going.

John Williams – The Race to the House

Brilliance

When I look back in time all I see is colour. When I look back in time I see clearly defined lines leading up to a little girl, raised on a hill, in a blue house. She, who is a product of these lines and colours, these minds and hearts. Most of them are not here anymore. Most of them I never knew. But some are present, sharing their wisdom and greatness and need for the extraordinary. Allowing me to understand why I became what I became and perhaps also why I am going where I am going. It´s a delicate pattern of little lives that in their simplicity are filled with grandios thoughts and acts and choices. I stem from the history of these choices. I stem from the brilliance of dreams and wishes of those who came before me.

It´s a peaceful thought.

Concerto in D Minor for Oboe and Strings, Op 1:II. Adagio

Stålgrå

Du har nya vänner nu. Jag vet inte längre vilka de är och det finns en sorg i den tanken. Vi var aldrig riktigt meningen och jag tror du visste det också. Jag hoppas du förlåter mig en dag. Och att du förstår att när jag ser tillbaka så känner jag din hand i min. Vi leker tafatt mellan gångarna på ICA och du tycker nog att jag är lite galen när jag gömmer mig bland sylten. Sedan går vi hem och jag gör mig upptagen med surdegsbröd och lakritsglass för att glömma att jag är helt, helt tom. Vi vandrar gatorna upp och ner till havet, med vind i håret, och du är en sommarpojke med gyllene hud och de vackraste fötter jag någonsin sett. Och jag tänker inte: så här vill jag det ska vara i hundra år. Och jag tänker inte: jag är så lycklig. Men sedan, på sjukhusbädden där jag ska spendera natten efter att doktorn skurit sitt. Du lägger dig tätt intill på den smala, smala sängen och vi är där, mitt i allt det vita, precis som två barn som bara har varandra i hela världen. Och jag tänker: jag älskade dig verkligen. Men ibland är kärleken inte tillräcklig.

The tallest man on earth --Troubles will be gone

Nothing else

It´s when I´m with other people that I miss you the most. It´s when I´m with others that your shine the brightest. Because, what we share, the way we talk, the way you make me feel -- is relentless in its fury. The way you look at me, how you relate to me -- is beyond space and time and what is now. How you see me, that you see me -- is the one truth I know.

Boris Valdes Villarroel – Love Trouba

Sunbeams

I never thought this song would be anyone´s but his. I thought it belonged to him and only him. To that beach, where the white sand seemed to swallow us whole. Where he took his shirt off, just like that, and kept on threading further into my heart -- still wearing his cowboy boots. Where he made me laugh until I cried and never let go of my hand. And I was reborn again, in that moment -- alive at the core, after years of stagnant, putrid air had been all I knew. I remember wanting time to stand still forever. I remember thinking: "In this moment, everything and nothing blurs together and becomes a whole, an essence of what life is." I thought these notes would be forever linked to a certain time and a certain pair of slanting, green, Irish eyes.

I was wrong. And I´ve never been more happy to be wrong.

 Addie Brownlee – Put Your Hands On Me