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Sometimes I wonder if my urge for expressing myself will be the end of me.
That I will never be satisfied with a normal life. That I will never be able to have a normal life. That my mind is too clouded for such a thing.
It steals and it drains and yet I need it, because without my creativity I would be empty and such a life would be meaningless.
Sometimes I feel like I don’t have time for both to live and have a life
I tried to do some socializing…
I didn’t remember the fog from this night…
I live in a questionmark
that’s true
just look at the map
there it’s printed
white on green
so now it’s substantiated
not just in my head
I used to like winter. And I still do, I think. But not this winter. I like the look of it. I like snow and ice. But this year I guess I’m too cold…
You just can’t study all day long…
I’ve been studying with my classmate.
She doesn’t like my camera. But I think she likes to work with me.
I’m not completely satisfied with it, so any comments would be nice…
I’m in
under your skin,
digging deeper
sending my labourers
in every direction,
they work by a schedule
I’m in
under your skin,
slowly breaching,
like an old-fashioned miner,
advancing in your veins
like a peeled onion
you reveal
layer after layer
I’m in
under your skin,
treasure hunting
It’s funny how the house I’m living in looks like a questionmark from above…
(Well, it’s actualy two semi-circled houses on the same street.)
… It has to be the white roofing…
