My imaginary friends

The same old clock is ticking
It kills me slower than slow
And I’m trapped in the same dark room
Eyes that were full of disgust
Minds filled with tiny ants
Insane is what they called me
This is not how I want to be
They laugh at me because I’m talking to

My imaginary friends
It’s necessary to have them by my side
My imaginary friends and I think the sky is falling down
Hey you, I can see that frown

The same folk stabbing my back
It makes me wiser and strong
Even if they dared to cut off my tongue
Eyes filled with prejudices
Minds filled with huge spiders
Everything they said to me
Haunting me every morning
That is as it is because I’m hanging out with

My imaginary friends
The diary I named after Dina
My imaginary friends and I think my piano’s name is Torri
Hey you, no need to worry

I’m still in this life, breathing in and out while I’m saying to myself:
What does not kill you makes you stronger
Moving on from ants and spiders to butterflies and fighters
While you judge one and another you should remember your brother
Please take a look at me now
Take a look at me now
Look at me now
Now

Two of ten.

I’m in the theatre history class and I’m kind of bored. Then I found this text that I wrote a week ago or so.

Worn pants covered with dirt and blood
Why can’t I finish this one job
Piano fingers with dirt under the nails
This voice is turned into a fragile little rat
Where is the cat when I need her to kill it slowly

I haven’t used my piano fingers lately
The writing book for January is empty
A stranger moved into my room and
he better watch over his poor doom
I think it is why the new year got so depressive

And then last week I was sitting on the wooden chair
A piece of paper is what I’ve got
The pen was writing something down
I could only do two of ten

While I lay down with a book
The characters are blending together
In and out and holding hands like they’re friends
I’m dancing to impress the dancing teacher
Then my eyes go wild again, I can’t see

I’ve been ill for five months
Worries my heart tries to take care of
Then it stops over and over again
When I see I’m still ill it starts again
Want to be fine and use my strength to be good

And then last week I was sitting on a piano bench
A bunch of piano sheets is what I’ve got
The eyes were reading something, but
I could only do two of ten

She couldn’t keep her baby.

I’ve been writing on this song for a while. This is a personal song about a family member I want to support and that I truly love. I’m posting it because I want some response. What is good, what is bad?

Dreaming about the day she will get a family
The time is getting closer
Everyone grows older
The years are passing by
But still she even dares to fly
One day she will plant a seed,
then she’ll see the truth of flowers and bees
Now she can smell the decaying trees

But she, she, she couldn’t keep her baby
Keep her baby
Give it life

Everything is getting older
The time is here to cry on a shoulder
Something went wrong
That’s why I’m making this song
She’s pregnant for the second time
Maybe wondering if she ever committed crime
What is it going to take to let her get her baby
While others get more than many

But she, she, she couldn’t keep her baby
Keep her baby
Give it life

The time is here to see that maybe she can make it
She got pregnant again
This time I hope it won’t cause her any pain
She’s getting bigger this time
A voice whispered that now everything is fine
The worriers haunt her everyday
Why on earth does she have to pay
Now she can smell the fresh air of a newborn blossom

And she got her baby
Got her baby
Her own little child, Lukas

The jury

I was on my way home earlier today. I got on the train and then I began to write. This is what came out of it:

It feels like I’m burning up
This heat is way over the top
I’m still in my bed and I’m trying to understand my head
I want to kill this negative mind, and now I’m killing this line
Because the jury in our heads always says no
We have to fight the jury in our heads
You can make it even without meds
In these frightful years, I’ve tried to make it, and guess what
where did the jury in my head go?
Now the jury in my head can’t say no
Want to go out tonight and enjoy the evening
But the jury says no
Fight against them, I want to go
You just live this life once, use it well
Reach your goals, but you have to work hard for it
Yes, I can tell that this jury does not decide over you
Find peace in yourself
In your heart and not in the well
Then you will see, this life is not like hell

Are you religious?

I used to be a Christian. Now you’re probably wondering “Why aren’t you a Christian anymore?”. Well, I found out that the Christian religion wasn’t something for me. The church I loved and the church I belonged to turned out to be my biggest enemy.

But I’m still religious. I’ve made my own religion. I read about and explore religions, it’s very interesting. And then I pick out what I think it’s good and then I live my own religion. I don’t want to say “I’m a Christian” or “I’m a Hindu”, the thing is I’m just myself and that’s it. I love to learn about religions and now I’m reading my second book or so about the nature religion Wicca. Many good thoughts in that religion. I think there is a red thread running through all religions, something is similar.

Are you religious?

A goodnightkiss.

Once upon a time there was a little girl
One day she shed a tear
Then she stopped because she felt the soft lips against her cheek
It was a goodnightkiss <3

A bit of peace.

A cup of tea? Yes, thank you. London tea for me. I really love it and I’ve missed it. Why have I been neglecting you, my dear tea? This is a wonderful morning, even if I’m tired to death. But I saw this picture of myself, who Caroline Dillerud in my class took yesterday and guess what, I liked it. I can find piece in this picture. It makes me smile.

The question is, what do you want from me?

I can feel the taste of bitterness. Black and white. Time to fight.
First of all I hate this fucking thing. It’s nagging me to death and I want to throw it out of my mind. What do you really feel when you see me, talk to me, smile to me and when we hold hands? Hmm. It isn’t any air left in my brain, will I die? Do you love him? Do you want him? Ugh. I have to do my homework, that is even more depressing.

This is just a blog with negative thoughts. Why can’t I write anything positive? It’s really difficult. But I’m not a depressed little child who’s sitting in his room and write this. Believe it or not I’m actually laughing a lot. A LOT!
The question is, what do you want from me? Okay, this is weird, I never actually talk about love. What’s wrong with me?

RED hair?

Now you’re possibly wondering “what?” or you just don’t care. What the hell. The thing is that on Saturday I colored my hair red. It didn’t turn out how I wanted it to be. It’s okay though. I wanted a more orange-red-brown-natural hair color, but one day my friend.

I want to be a ginger.

What’s the time? I’m supposed to sleep! But I don’t really want to. So what do I want to do? I want to sit up all night long and write. That thought just makes me depressed, because I know I can’t sit up all night and write. But from this time, I’ll sit a half-hour and write. Probably it’s going to take all night. I have a problem with my love life, what to do, what to choose? And I’m surrounded by these thoughts and thousand more of them. I really hate love, except love related to family, friends and similar things. I think you know what I mean. I’ve always hated love. It just ends in misery and true hate. Not always, but most of the incidents. But I will not sit here and complain and cry about it, I will find a way through, won’t I?

Black box.

This is a song text I wrote in the beginning of the summer. It’s actually made a song out of this, I made it at the same time I made the text. Btw I’ll play it at the prom at school on Wednesday.

I’m here again, tied up in a corner
It’s difficult to breath, the air is running out
I’ve been in this situation for many times now
Why can’t I stop hurting myself
My bones is hard, my blood is ticker
Drag of my bard, I’m getting sicker

Do you know what my grey shield is for
Do you know what my hundred men is for
Do you know what my black box is for
My black box kills dirty thoughts

The age of an man, twenty six is his tag
His fingers slips through, look at this fag
Pretending that I like it, I’m just an actor
I’m faking my orgasm, inside I’m crying

Do you know what my grey shield is for
Do you know what my hundred men is for
Do you know what my black box is for
My black box kills dirty thoughts

A room furnished with angles statues
I haven’t slept this night, my eyes is wide open
I want to say “Don’t touch me at all”
This claustrophobia grow bigger
He wanted to walk me to the station
I just have to get away from him

The time stops, I’m telling myself
“You are a bad man, now it’s time for punishment”
Then I’m hurting myself even more
A male voice is asking “Thomas, is this your fault?”
Day after day, things is more clear
I’m not read for it yet
So stop hurting my self

Do you know what my grey shield is for
Do you know what my hundred men is for
Do you know what my black box is for
My black box was broken, and now it’s fixed