The feeling

If you ever have traveled.
Then you will understand.We meet people during our travels and
They are the factor of what makes the traveling most addictive.
We will end up sharing the same moments and probably the cherished memories.
Watch the same sunrise and sunsets.
Share a meal.
Walk that aweful road carrying the 20 kilo backpack.
Listening to theirs own life experiences over way to many beers.
Spending a night with someone that you'll neve forget.
Having a heavy heart when you part ways. There is so many ways to enjoy this earth.
To find people you want to stay connected with.
And people you even might end up starting to love.
You spend hours online talking to them.
The first thing you do when you wake up  is to stay online on Skype.
Due to time differences, you'll be online all day so he can see that you are available, even at work.
You finally meet again.
From 3 years on you'll have the only person who truly understands you and you him.
You are his book …

Joan ( outtake)

Private message.
The name popped up on the screen and Joan's stomach turned.
Sam Gild : happy valentines day..
Joan's heart dropped and she felt how the cheese and beer they ate earlier tried to force its way up.
Who the fuck writes " happy valentines day"  to the girl you cheated on?!
Did his mother drop him on the floor the day he was born or is he a fucking idiot?!
Joan looked at Beth who gave her a deadglanse, and grabbed the beer.
Jo, don't bother.
He has probably realized what kind of scum he is. And he should remain a scum, do not answer him back.
Answer? Joan slammed the empty beer bottle on the table and fell back in the sofa. Muttering swear words as she read the message again and again.
Why did I trust that person so much that I blindly let him break the only piece left, of my already broken heart.
And putting  Carl in that car that night, or write his own name in blood on the church wall?
Fucking disturbing. The rain got heavier outside the …
They call it " get to know me" out here in the.. Cyber world.So why not get deeper into it.
What I do, what I like etz etz etz. You known how this goes.Why not start with something that kills my vibe. Atm1
I have one knee that Hurst constantly.
I dance ( my knee is a major problem here, but I dance anyway)
I have a hard time falling asleep.
I am writing a book as we speak.
I write songs. Lyrics as often as I can.
I love spicy food.
Spicy food doesn't love me.
I think about music all, day. Long.
Same. Goes for dance rutins.
Im into rock, glam. Avant pop, k-pop, reagge, piano music... I'm in to almost every kind of music, as long as I like the groove.
Ramen is my absolut favorite food.
Im an night owl, but I like to wake up in the early hours. Not a great combo.
My brain never stops Ticking.
I love the ocean.
Ive been raised up with, Northern mythology.
I love karma
I have 9 tattoos.
More to come.
Hats. Hats. Hats.
I sing. No…
Is it..
When war, death, abuse and world economy strangles the earth.
Some none-world problems  just doesn't stop picking my brain cells.Ticking time bombs, like these things.Why are, every iconic musicians, actors or artistic dancers or ANYone out there on socialmedia included.. Doing this particular dumb shit.. Why are the centerpiece, in the photos, concentrated on a luxury item these days.
Why. To be clear, I didn't follow you to see the LV or the  Gucci bag.
Nor the Mark. /Marc Jacobs whatever, bellancianga (don't bother with the spelling, I don't know how it's spelled ) covering you from top to toe. Not the ads.
I followed you because you did something awesome.
Something I liked.
You have something that  I want to see more of , watching you grow and be even more awesome .
If that includes you buying way expensive shit you don't really pay attention to later on,  No emotional value besides.. It is a (f*king) expensive brand that everyone else, with shit ton …


I know you are here sometimes. This one, is for you. Post Malone - blame it on me
I used to say I was free
Now all these people wanna keep on taking pieces of me
They take away everything, had everything that I needed
They held me down, let me drown
They spit me out right through the teeth
I can't pretend, ash in the wind, won't blow again
It was a breeze for you
These hurricanes inside of my brain, let it rain
Made it look easy
Can't look away, you love the pain, you love the painWatchin' me bleed
You cut me down on my knees
No matter what you believe
I think we both can agreeThat you can't blame it on me, yeah
It's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault
Blame it on me
It's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault
I couldn't breathe
Almost lost myself, couldn't stop myself, I did it all
You can't blame it on me
It's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my faultEveryday's the same, yeah,…
Besides writing on the book.Lately, old memories has come to life.. Again.
Assholes, friends and simple fragments makes their way to me, when I lay my head on the pillow.
This must be some kind of way, for me to work through the bad moments, the dark moments of my so far 29 years on this earth.2 years ago.
I walked through my own soul.
It shattered, it broke and it bled.
Caused by the broken heart syndrome.
A common sickness, transferred and caused by horrible people.
This has been crawling back to me and it gets on my thinnest, most open and short nerves.
I don't need to dwell in that broken place anymore.
But this might be my soul who wants to recreate that broken place.
Make that place alive again.It takes about 7years for the body to heal after giving birth.
Does it take 2, to heal a broken space in the soul and heart.
Only 2?It is not a question about "time".
More a question about.. "why".
I don't feel like healing that one place.
I need to have it …