Love Letter

Im mad in love with a young man, who has craze about me too

we kiss all day and all through the night if I wake and we are apart my mouth feels dry

I thirst for the kiss, he has big fat lips,

I relax and let it go

my head dangles like a puppet when my womb bangs heavy

it is on fire

He rides when he walks, he is silent when I talk

I sleep when he watches, I can not get him off my sight

He whispers when he is near, I just sit and stare

When waiting for bad luck to arrive, he winks it off from the corner of his eye

I sigh I feel safe, when he leaves I brake, just in front of him for a minute

So he knows I am all his, so he know I care

We drink wine and fall drunk asleep, so true my love my heart my hand

Old man has fears, I get old, he holds me tight

Young man has brave, I get young, he knows me well

meowing humans artists yukiness

LAst night I recognised that Shunt, not the medical term of hole in body to allow fluid to move
But the artist residence & exhibition/nightclub in the vaults under London bridge gives me the creeps, in a way it is remarkable of course that it exists and put on all sorts of shows seems regardless of the subject.
I have performed there & it is special in many ways. That I do not argue.
It is not the place, it is more the recognision of my intestines wanting to make a point when recognising this state of mind hole.
The "art" scene seems jammed with egos which isn't news but it gets tedious from my point of view, a lot of the installations and human installations are made to conceive a reaction that inhabit to count mostly for the artist.
It would be interesting for a viewer to get cared for, to have a feeling of warm care, hords of heed for the art consumer
& perhaps not so much seemingly always the approach to suck as much energy out of the person who just payed to get in to see & in respect for whatever mindset or purpose that viewing person came with. He or He came to see, that should be celebrated all counts for bravery & support.
As an artist you nothing but a tool, & the one that sees itself as a true creator slowly peels off the layers of sanity in a most certain way.
A tool or a channel of coupling the discover of thought emotion makers energy filtered by the person it is going past and through the artist begs with folly pride for recognition
I get car sick from all the meows
Meowing Meowing
Look at me I breath I make You see You pay

I vomit on the art next I see that meowing party of humanity

Super Ego in Me breaths in the contempt over the content above

Hail artists Stay humble for creativity is not the key to existance

It is! no, yes no yes no yes...for eternity

the artist must live it is a part of human folly detective we must never stop to explore ourselves
the artist must eat and have a good night sleep if wished for,
like most people,
The needs do not ever change.

rigorous fika

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia A cup of coffee "Fika" outside during Swedish summer. Fika is a Swedish verb that roughly means "to drink coffee", usually accompanied by something sweet on the side.[1] Fika is a social institution in Sweden; it means having a coffee with one's colleagues, friends, date, or family. The word has quite ambiguous connotations and can mean anything from taking a break from work or other activities, to going on a date. Swedes are among the heaviest consumers of coffee in the world[2] and this practice of taking a break for a coffee, typically with a cinnamon roll and/or some biscuits or cookies, or sometimes a smörgås on the side, is central to Swedish life[citation needed]. Although the word may in itself imply "taking a break from work", this is often emphasied using the word fikapaus ("fika pause") or fikarast ("fika break"), with kaffepaus and kafferast, respectively, as near synonyms. The shorter word fika may equally well mean having coffee with a friend at a café or konditori (a "patisserie-based coffeehouse"). Since the word implies drinking coffee, just having a smörgås or sandwich would not really be fika. Drinking tea, however, is also common, and young people may have lemonade, a soft drink, or milk, instead of coffee. However, in a strict sense, a genuine fika implies coffee. Fika is also combined in words such as fikabröd ("fika bread") which is a collective name for all kinds of biscuits, cookies, buns, etc that are traditionally eaten with coffee. Non sweetened breads are normally not included in this term (even though these may sometimes be consumed with coffee). Fika is also used as a noun, referring to fikabröd and coffee combined. The word is an example of the back slang used in the 19th century, in which syllables of a word were reversed, deriving from fika from kaffi, an earlier variant of the Swedish word kaffe ("coffee").[3] From fika also comes the word fik (a colloquial term for "café") through a process of back-formation.

In northern Sweden and some rural areas, fika may mean coffee without any treats: Ta en kopp fika ("Have a cup of coffee")"


In rural part of Swedeland,
In the North,
the treat of "fika" is the actual bitter taste without the sweet sensation.
The rural ones, do not even taste sweet words without an urging feel of ice cracking emotional outbreak
What work would be done and what roles would we play rolling around covered with sugar and cinnamon all over?
We be spoilt and think life's nothing but a sweet treat
and a conversation could just be lighthearted as the southern city indwelled ones and therefor every word tasted and used, might not any longer have a true meaning.
The whole rigorious mood that is set for the people who lives clingingly close to the artic circle would have to change.

Instead we incorporate birch-tree-sap for refreshement
and stroke the sweethearts(sötnos)nose with the back of the hand,
or more likely the back of the fingers
since the palm is often too rough from hard work,
This grand action shows real emotion
and a bond has been made
A bond that could last a whole lifetime if the village is rural enough
.

Lost in recession

Karatekiddo...you´re screwed
today is the first day , besides the other first illfitted days not counted,
to show how a job don´t come easy
I once worked as a builder
i can tile, I can tear down the walls
I sure can weld too..
I wanna a job
I wanna build a submarine
Not to war with
but to raw with,
we have no water in shanty town, where I have house living at
there's planty of water outside, splaching coldly out from the gutter
as our taps and toilets run dry

Buster sent me this Picture
and I love it



She is me on my good day
On a not so good day
She is my heroin
And she has got a job
A serious one

I got a little blowtorch

people are personal always check their out of date as well as the terminal you are flying from.

Current mood: adored <3


christ is time for merry kisssmess
this time of year i always get confused on who not to kiss and who to kiss
Shall i kiss the one I miss
though He ain't there
I must kiss the one I don't miss since He is present
I did once to try and now i can't stop
and the missing of the kissing has gone
My mouth has turned to a constant pout for more more and more
as mouths can do when lips turn into a constant feed somehow
(in bugsy malone, ganster man's his mouth turned into the shape of an oyster my man told me I must see it again to get the real pitty started)
from pitty to acceptance to love
it is the love or at least acceptance time of year and people is dangling on the edge of emotion
big time
huffing scuffing bitches and evil men shouting
or drunken kisses of the public offenders
we all are
I tried to help with some gingerbread latte the girl in the union jack dress crosseyed from too much drugintake high as the heels she was trying to take on west end in
her two lady friends where trying to support her while they where gurning away on the inside of there cheeks
keep the christmas spirit high was their motive

Then missed my flight that was gonna take me to my homeland way too early this morning
the not helping heathrowian airline people saw my stress and gathered force to make me cry
which i did a lot of
a river of tired tears as i hated people through the dim vision
ooooh i cried so much their manager had to come and help me get words out instead of stuttering: st o o o c k k k h h h o o l l m mmmm
the e en the fooorr r r e e e v v e e r t t t rai i i n u u u p n n n n or r t h
the thought of being stuck in the town of Grey made me wanna move back into my mothers womb for to never leave again
with todays technology i could still communicate and make songs to record from in there
lucklily i was rescued by a gentleman whom so greatly booked another ticket for me
(and saved the world for I was going to plant stink bombs full of gastric urin rat piss, hound dogs peewee hermans squashed vocals mixed with casting agents perverted dreams on how to commercialise EVERYTHING possible foamy top would be old cocks and hens dangly neck bits...
The potion would have been lethal for the christmas spirit and everyone would have instantly quit shopping freneticly and the worlds engines would stop for a bit just so everyone could take a break to hold their breath for the ghastly stink bomb)
back to the kissing,
I felt so happy I kissed the gentleman over and over and over and over again till the day stopped and it got dark and he had to go and i had to write down the christmas tale of today
My Papa wasn't too happy
He hoped I haven't placed myself in debt to a man
Papa hates debts.
So do I
He don't like many men either
But I so do
Gentlemen are few these days
Damsels are forever in need of sweet show care from brave goofs
Gentlemen needs kisses like mountaintops needs snow to be looked up to

Snow
high sugar
here I come

Currently listening
I wanna Know
By: Sugar Pie Desanto

Dear Diary of Boredom...

gee wizz

The new year spat in my face at 6am

But it was nice clean spit

like laplandic punkkid party trick spit sort of

similar to lemon icecream with liqurice ripple

& with a greeting all the way from n.y

I felt sick at first but widened my smile for the cause of the Fantomen

& Alabama

(Golly

I miss those ladies

We have a quartett with Mr.Cc

We play balls when we come together

But it ain't no fotball team. )

The bacterias of last year are still clinging on

but I went out and cooled them off

It is -26 degrees C here today

I have become a weakling

Beacuse I am just not used to it anymore



If I misbehave and fail I will go to icehell I figure

My sister knows a family that have named their children after temperature meizurements

One is called Jan Fahrenheit

& his sister is called Celsius something

They got another sibling too

but my sister couldn..t remember what that one was called

Here my hair gets witchy frosty whenever I venture out for a walk

Then my joints freeze and my toes feels external from my body

My eyelashes stick my eyes together with little icedrops from the tears that well up from the shocking cold
& highpitch voiced I wish for hot fire..

So I stay in and watch Flash Gordon on tv instead

Flash Gordon is trying to save the Ice Queen in Falgeria (oh I..m not sure her Queen/kingdom is called like that?)

& Mother has a secret lover

I spotted him the sweet shop in the village where Mother lives

I could tell from far that the man had a good eye for Mother since he started growing eyes in his neck as he picked sweets for his evening treats

(I spy with my sifty eye)

I sifted all other details away and awaited the moment he turned around with a big surprised looking smile to greet her

Mother purred for a bit, then we left & I knew something sweet was cooking at Mother's

That was mighty interesting

After a whole nights interrogation & a whole bottle of wine Mother finally confessed...something
I swore to secrecy..

I have realised how bored this holidaying is

Got so much to do instead of just eating chocolates

Like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland

I got to find oncoming income

And other things to sort out

Worldly stuff

Worldly troubles as ..Karlsson på taket.. says

An Astrid Lindgren caracter, a sort of fable sibling to

Pippi Långstrump(the worlds..strongest girl)

Anyway. That kind that makes my head spin and limbs twitch nervous

Im heading back to my lover
he has written to me

Eartha Kitt!

Rest peacefully Kitten

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQ5VaBgXzuM

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