You see them come.
The Heralds of the Morning.
They come with their sticks.
They come with their powder.
But you’d never have thought,
They’d make your life louder…
Their machines hum.
And soon you are mourning.
There’s buildings of bricks.
Look out for the prowler.
And now that you’re taught,
They can call you the fouler…
When I need support by people around me and I cant find them. I just cry and always keep my sadness by my self.
cause im a girl and cant do anything. just wanna be as screet admirer of by someone who i love about 4 years. “we only can waiting” as girl usually said if they feel like what i feel it
I had a dream once in which my overweight English teacher (who had the facial hair reminiscent to a member of a ska band) was lolloping down the corridor, then suddenly turned into a triceratops and proceeded to eat the students.
me and my girlfriend have been together since 9 months. before we were in a relationship, we used to hop in my car and travel around the city just to listen music in the car. one day, we travelled the city listening music again and then arrived her house. then suddenly our favourite song started (arctic monkeys – 505), then we decided to pass her house and continue travelling until the song ended. but we didnt realise that we were running out of gas. but we barely made it to the gas station when it passed 1 hour after the song started. we were so excited, lovely, had so much fun.
My story is of a young girl who was far away at university studying anthropology. While she enjoyed it, she felt that she had lost touch the creative outlets that had been more greatly present during her childhood. She had always loved art. And candy. One day, she realised that her phone was her connection to the wider world community, outside her own life. So she decided that she wanted to provide a way of beautifying this special item. So she began mixing various products (clay, gloss and beads) and a few months on, she began to customise phone cases for each individual request, taking into account their personality and their passions.
My story is about a corporate savvy who’s sick of his daily routine. He wakes up every morning at the exact same time, do the same tasks over and over again, and goes home exhausted. He wonders whether this is a kind of life he’s wishing for.
Year 1
Her: Don’t you think it’s weird that we’re acting like a couple when we’re not really one?
Him: Ours is a relationship of convenience.
Her: I’m just a substitute for her, aren’t I?
Him: It sounds bad when you say it like that.
She ceases contact with him by the end of the year, only engaging in the cordial exchange of pleasantries, where necessary.
Year 4
Him: Before we go any further with this dinner, I… I just wanted to apologise.
Her: For?
Him: For everything I said and did in the past.
Her: What… took you so long?
Him: I did a lot of thinking when I was training overseas… and well, it’s always difficult to apologise to someone you know you’ve let down.
Her: If you should know, I never held it against you.
Before they bid farewell that evening, she hugs him, only to see a look of genuine surprise on his face after she pulls away.
“Thank you,” she says.
Year 5
Her: I’ve realised that you’ve not been asking me out of late.
Him: Well, I don’t see the need to.
Her: Should I be concerned?
Him: Actually… I think this isn’t working out. It’s probably me – I can’t do relationships. And I think there’s a disparity in our feelings for each other.
Her: I understand. So… what exactly do you feel for me?
Him: I don’t know. But I think… I’m fond of you.
She’s heartbroken.
But she knows that his heart and soul belong in the skies – they were never hers to keep.
Year 8
Her: So, have you reconsidered us as a possibility again?
Him: Yes I have. But it wouldn’t be fair to you.
Her: How so?
Him: I know you like me a lot more than I do you. And if we were to get together, it would possibly be a one-way street. That’d be unfair to you.
Her: You know, at times I suspect that my residual affection for you is stopping me from getting into other relationships – well, not that there are any in sight, to begin with.
Him: Oh dear.
She’d always known that her affection for him could never be reciprocated in the same manner.
But she secretly hoped for a miracle. That he might come around some day.
Year 9
Her: Brilliant. The professor thinks we’re an item.
Him: Tell her it’s an occupational hazard.
Her: It must be the awesome chemistry we emanate.
Him: More like bickering, haha.
It’s taken her long enough to come to terms with the fact that they’re better off as friends. She’s seen him at his most unkempt; he’s seen her sans make-up; they crack crude jokes and engage in easy banter – he was never so comfortable with her when they were (quasi) romantically involved.
And so. She finds herself, falling yet again.
Det var länge sedan jag såg stjärnhimlen på riktigt. Jag kan minnas två gånger som jag verkligen insupit rymdes oändlighet och stjärnornas gränslösa skönhet.
Första gången var efter en födelsedagsfest på en liten ö ute i en norsk fjord. Ön hade ingen elektricitet och ingen bebyggelse sånär som på ett litet hus. Efter middagen samlades vi i stugans enda rum till skenet av levande ljus. Tre män ställde sig upp och började sjunga i kör. Det här var inte dina brölande öldrickare, deras stämmor kompletterade varandra och gjorde så att luften i rummet började vibrera. Männen avlöstes av en jojkare som sjöng som om hennes röst skulle ha kunnat flytta på berg. Det var en magisk kväll.
Efter sången lämnade jag huset för att hitta en plats att sova. Nere vid stranden stod en stor studsmatta uppställd. Jag hämtade min sovsäck och kudde och kravlade upp på studsmattan. Det var först när jag la mig ner som jag insåg att det mest magiska funnits ovanför mig hela den här tiden. Jag kunde höra det rogivande kluckandet från vågorna som sakta slog in på stranden några meter bort men det var så mörkt att jag omöjligt kunde se förbi vattnet till fjordstranden på andra sidan. Jag slappnade av och bara tittade upp. Stjärnhimlen sträckte sig som ett enormt draperi över hela mitt synfält. Det var tusen och åter tusen himlakroppar. Det var sagolikt.
Den andra gången som stjärnhimlen fängslade mig befann jag mig på en stor segelbåt utanför Turkiets kust. Det var så varmt, även på natten, att jag tagit med mig en dyna och lagt mig på fördäck. Vi var långt från civilisationen och det var verkligen kolsvart sånär som på ljuset från stjärnorna. Jag har aldrig sett så många stjärnor på en och samma gång. Och jag har aldrig känt mig så liten.
Det slog mig att alla jag älskar, alla jag känner och alla som jag någonsin hört talas om, ja, alla människor som någonsin funnits har left under den här stjärnhimlen. Min farfar som jag aldrig han träffa, hans föräldrar och farföräldrar. Djingis Khan, Alexander den store och Lucy.
Det slog mig också att varje prick på den himlen antingen var en stjärna eller en hel galax, och att varje stjärna hade potential att ha planeter i omloppsbana. Jag är en försvinnande liten människa på en försvinnande liten planet i ett litet hörn av en liten galax. Jag kände mig liten, inte bara fysiskt utan också ur ett tidsperspektiv. Hur länge har jag levt när allt kommer omkring? Försvinnande kort tid. Om någon skulle blinka så skulle de missa hela min existens.
Men trots det – trots hur osannolikt det är att jag ens finns, trots hur enkelt det skulle vara att inte ens veta om att jag finns eller har funnits – trots det finns jag. Jag är här. Jag lever mitt liv under samma himmel som alla andra människor och levande varelser i världens historia. Det känns magiskt och det är vad jag tänker på när jag tittar upp på stjärnhimlen.
There was a little girl with enemies all around …they hated her and abused her …but they could not do anything to her because she had wings.
