/// a broken heart is not the end of the world

because

"It was the day before the american election 2008 and I was filled with a hopelessness that only a McCain supporter could have shared with me at the time. I was in Washington DC to perform for swedish TV, sitting in the couch with a profesional smile on my face, joking with the hosts and discussing the lobster with the TV chef. I saw the clips online sometime ago, it’s amazing what an actor I can be if I really make an effort.

I lived in America back then, up in New York. At the time I felt like everything I touched was turning to shit and I had decided to put everything on one card. Subconsciously I knew I needed to hit the bottom so I could work my way up again. I needed confirmation, I needed someone to tell me it wasn’t going to work out, not this way. Yes, there was a girl involved in this. I was very much in love with her.

Some things you just go through. You don’t write about it, you don’t turn it into art because it can’t be turned into art. I didn’t write any songs that year because you can’t pour manure into an espresso machine and expect a cappucino to come out. When they announced the results and the streets filled up with people celebrating I felt happy to be part of something bigger than myself. It was a feeling that lasted me until the very last days of December 2008 when I finally sat down in my old teenage room at my parents house and I wrote this song. Then the year ended.

It’s a song of hope. When love turns it’s back on you it’s nice to know there’s a world out there that doesn’t give a shit about your problems. That forces you to keep your head held high and move on. A world that is fragile and beautiful. Maybe it can sound cold to some of you, but let me make it clear that I believe in love, I just get so wrapped up in it sometimes that I need to put it into proportion. It’s something you have to do a lot when you’re Jens Lekman."

- Jens Lekman

And something that you have to do over and over and over when you're Angel Trinidad.

/// spöken

To the ghost who keeps haunting me, I love you, please go away. You are just a shadow, you are not here anymore, you left me. Like The Shining: "It's just like pictures in a book, Danny. It isn't real."

Do you love me? You said you don't, didn't you? Then why are you here? Why do you lurk the corridors of my heart? Why linger? WHY!

The basement of the core of the core of the core: a projection of my fears and my doubts and the injustices. You are not real anymore: you are Mal, my deepest unfulfilled desire, dragging me down.

But these are just words and words and words, and who am I trying to convince. How do people move on? How?

/// LAX

reality is relative, the totem spins, if it falls or not, it doesn't matter.

/// boy of my dreams

/// the train

You're waiting for a train; a train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you can't be sure. But it doesn't matter - because we'll be together.

/// level B

C: I can't stay with her anymore because she doesn't exist.
M: I'm the only thing you do believe in anymore.
C: I wish. I wish more than anything. But I can't imagine you with all your complexity, all your perfection, all your imperfection. Look at you. You are just a shade of my real life. You're the best I can do; but I'm sorry, you are just not good enough.
M: Don't you remember, on our wedding day? You promised me that we will grow old together...
C: And we did. Don't you remember? I miss you more than I can bear, but we had our time together. I have to let you go.

/// how did this happen

personality tests <3

/// for martin

Happy birthday dearest Martin, my boy best friend who makes sure that I don't eat too much sugar. <3 Cheers!

Love,
A

/// heart skipped a beat

The Nature of Time

Thinking about time is like turning the globe round and round, recognizing that all journeys exist simultaneously, that to be in one place is not to deny the existence of another, even though that other place cannot be felt or seen, our usual criteria for belief.

- Sexing the Cherry, Jeanette Winterson


TIME 1:

Winter, snow and walking alone. And the unbearable emptiness that comes down from the sky and crashes on your shoulders flattening you to the sidewalk. The spaces of your room, the corners of your bed, your pictures on the wall, a soft yellow light and love that is breaking. Real and raw and hopeful and tragic.


TIME 2:

Summer, the streets of Kungsgatan. Running into friends and a morning after glow. Girl friends and cheeseburgers and adolescence. Pineapple fields forever and Happy Birthday on your Birthday. Blackeberg and the most beautiful songs, the ones I have always wanted to write. "Do you feel good?" I do, it feels good on my skin, and even better from within. And thinking, always thinking of the night before. With a secret smile.


PLACE 1:

You and me are together. I don't know where, but it doesn't matter. I cannot see or feel this place, but I know we are there and that we are happy. "In the end it will be you and me." This is the place where that happens.


PLACE 2:

You and me are apart. I am here where I am now, and you, you are a ghost walking around a completely different world. I miss you sometimes. Some songs still hit all the right notes, but they are not solely yours anymore.

/// gamla stan

coming of age!

waiting for the bus, turning around at the last second and walking to gamla stan. to surprises and sweetness and good feelings. and tickle attacks, italian coffee, and being an attacker waiting for the goal.

i feel good! <3

/// bigger than you

/// YES

WHAT IS YOURS

WILL BE YOURS.

/// the truth is, i remember almost everything

/// tulegatan

/// sliding across your floorboards

A: we'll talk on monday ok?
M: sure, i will try not to forget.
A: don't forget me!
M: that's kind of difficult...

/// blissful dream

Last night Jihan woke up while I was dreaming: I laughed out loud and mumbled something really long (two sentences maybe) in a language she couldn't understand (Swedish maybe <3) like I was talking to someone and then I smiled, like I was really happy and then drifted back to sleep. I don't remember anything but must have been a really good dream and I wonder what, or who I was dreaming about...

/// los campeones

when you drop-kick someone you will never win.

andy, marina and i were in hornstull station after the game when we heard a vuvuzela and riotous spanish cheering and singing going on upstairs, coming ever closer to the platform. we made a bet: 4 (marina), 7 (me) and 10 (andy) people. we found ourselves slowly backing away as the sound came closer and closer, louder and louder.  we first saw three guys coming down the steps and then behind them, a whole parade of ecstatic spaniards, facepaint, flags and fantastic cheering and jumping and all. we don't know how many they were, but we ended up cheering and dancing along with them.

one of the three guys sheepishly smiled and waved his little dutch flag at me. i smiled back at him.

and then i ran to catch the train to slussen and joined the winners in their dance parade.

/// candy

Candy.

Blue bubbly fizz, your favorite, my favorite. The coldest winter night at Blackeberg, baking kladdkaka with fudge, birthday parties.

Dolphin marshmallows. The corridors of Studentpalatset.

Swedish fish, for breakfast-dinner, Tanlines and Marie Antoinette.

Lakris-berry soft gum (try it!), the last barbeque at Telefonplan.

Melon jellies that you kept stealing from my hand, from the plastic bag that was being passed around at the Spanish Apartment.

The Thai take away near Studentpalatset, the very first time.

A safe candy-filled bubble that I believed in for the longest time.

/// there is nothing better

He said as we sat on the floor, playing our songs in between snatches of Coke and sweets in candy dishes.
Love cannot heal love, look around you and don't let him ruin your life now.

/// i love you you you you and you.

/// six impossible things

there's a rabbit floating in the sky!
a complete rainbow after the summer rain!
i followed it from arch to arch -
and into the sunset forest fire
the sun blazing on the apartment windows
the blissful balmy rain
and this!
six impossible things before breakfast
here we go.

06.07.2010 On Peak Hill

/// tea party

It's so beautiful it breaks your heart. Suzy said as we sat listening to Rilkean Heart, at the end (the beginning) of a lovely summer night.

Of blue moons and blue lagoons.

Of the sunset view over Sodermalm, chicken and salad and frozen Coke, and fighting bears, ultra understanding powers, cooking and best friends and nothing has to change but ___!

Of jumping in the lake and learning how to swim and doing laps together and finding lost friends in the water.

Of hand games played in the middle of the room with Funny Little Frog playing in the background.

Of Cat/Wolf shirts and Somewhere trailers and tea party impersonations and sparkling Phoenix songs.

Of Cola Heart, BSS, The Video Dept. and Kendal Johansson wifting in the air. And cosmic Said Sadly...

Of whispering and shouting in your ear. Oh you break my heart, you silly boy.

Of plans, plans, plans of more sparkling summer days and nights like this. Of meadows and circus tents, car trips and camping and book clubs and movie nights (starring Leonardo di Caprio).

Of Alice and dreams that are real, of tea parties and friends all around you.

And the day was lovely too. I will be here when you come back, I promise.

Tonight, everything is beautiful it breaks your heart almost. But it doesn't. That is the beauty of it. This kind of love will never break your heart. It can only heal it, make it grow fonder and make you love it even more. And it will only keep on going.

Do you see, where is he? Where is that love? This love that you "believe" in? Where is this?What does he give you? Nothing. Nothing at all.

And do you see what is in front of you now? Do you see who knocks on your doorstep? Do you see that blue eyes, telling you to be careful? Do you see who comes to you and takes you in? Do you see this: candy in crystal jars, teacups and Rilkean hearts? They believe in you.

Forever and always, the now and yet to come. Here's to summer, here's to today, here's to the coming days and to love that is real, that is here, that will never break your heart.



05.07.2010 Rilkean Heart 

/// nybroviken, forever.

/// leaving

I know this feeling all too well.

/// Photo from Phoenix ///

/// summer

trädgården, summer nights. it was the day when we wrote the sista natten song at kniven industries, everything good takes 20 minutes, follow the water felix said and find your way to centralen. the british embassy beer fest with pure happiness floating around the air, laced with danish beer and american chicken wings. two happy scots and AT and S, gathered around in the secret pub. the fuzzy walk under the bridge to tradgarden. and 4 am, nybroviken, the most magical thing ever: "borrowing" a raft with felix and suzie and floating away in the middle of the lake, singing radio dept songs and looking at the blue grey dawn waterskies.

"get your bags angel, we're going on a little trip."