LYSTRING: Vill hålla ett tal:
bELOVED fRIENDS.fAMILY.lOVERS: what a year we’ve had. battles and smoothsailing thru it. for everyone that i have and had in my life: tHANK yOU (for staying and for leaving). people we meet in seasons and for reasons. never have i cried so much never have i laughed this much. i still haven’t figured it out. and maybe i know more since i been walking on the ledge. knowledge. one this is for sure_ it doesn’t cost to be nice. mutual respect and love. i promise you: death exist. ja svär, ibland känns d som att livet ger mig örfilar med brännässlor. och ibland så kysser den mig så pass ömt så att jag glömmer bort mitt namn. Wasima. älskar. dig. (if that counts) smile baby, nothing greater than ur smile.
hope everybody brings in the new year with the reflection of their own self. paz y amor. good luck.
emma,beldina,charaf,allistair. wish u guys were here.
THIS ON ALL LEVELS OF IGNORANT AND FEEL THE ENERGIES FROM 2 PLANETS AWAY.
2012 is ending in a few hours. me and my twin been giving flavor since day one 1 tho.
posted this song before, but not this live version; 1.08 into the video. yes. my panties dropped. mvh darling nikki
SO I CHECKED INTO STOCKHOLMS BEST HOTEL TO CELEBRATE MY 24TH BIRTHDAY , NOBIS HOTEL. I COULDN’T HAVE HAD ANY BETTER ATMOSPHERE OR BE MORE SPOILED. TREATED.LIKE.A.QUEEN. QUEENED UP. WITH MY BOO’S BESIDE ME, WITH LOVE AROUND ME MY BDAY CELEBRATION WAS DEF. A NIGHT TO REMEMBER. special shout out to NOBIS FOR MAKING IT POSSIBLE, AND FOR THE GREAT SERVICE 4 DA MORNIN, ROBBIE FOR THE HOSPITALITY, AND OF COURSE THE HEAD HONCHO, MY FAVORITE, MYGGAN. LOVING YOU.
TARO OCH ZOULIAS AT OBAREN. bisou bisou.
och mina älsklingar. saroja.primrose och inna. now tell me, what.would.i.be.without.you?
ride or die.
this is where y’all needs to be. Stockholms dream team under samma tak. yeahBuddy.
I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny
blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny
they are small, and the fountain is in France
where you wrote me that last letter and
I answered and never heard from you again.
you used to write insane poems about
ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper case, and you
knew famous artists and most of them
were your lovers, and I wrote back, it’ all right,
go ahead, enter their lives, I’ not jealous
because we’ never met. we got close once in
New Orleans, one half block, but never met, never
touched. so you went with the famous and wrote
about the famous, and, of course, what you found out
is that the famous are worried about
their fame –– not the beautiful young girl in bed
with them, who gives them that, and then awakens
in the morning to write upper case poems about
ANGELS AND GOD. we know God is dead, they’ told
us, but listening to you I wasn’ sure. maybe
it was the upper case. you were one of the
best female poets and I told the publishers,
editors, “ her, print her, she’ mad but she’
magic. there’ no lie in her fire.” I loved you
like a man loves a woman he never touches, only
writes to, keeps little photographs of. I would have
loved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling a
cigarette and listened to you piss in the bathroom,
but that didn’ happen. your letters got sadder.
your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, all
lovers betray. it didn’ help. you said
you had a crying bench and it was by a bridge and
the bridge was over a river and you sat on the crying
bench every night and wept for the lovers who had
hurt and forgotten you. I wrote back but never
heard again. a friend wrote me of your suicide
3 or 4 months after it happened. if I had met you
I would probably have been unfair to you or you
to me. it was best like this.
One of my favorite poems by Charles Bukowski. I can read it until i die.