once, i wrote a poem. about read threads and people that i used to know. i was angry and sincerely not exactly sober. we used to believe in something strong between us, like bond, like threads, like understanding exactly your thoughts, your actions, your movements... we used to talk until the morning sun on a bench in the middle of the city. we used to lie down inside buildings, watch ceilings and talk. we used to drive places, watch views with arms around each other, laugh... they say that the strongest development comes from going backwards and moving forward. they say that the weakest one, comes from denial, putting lids, pretending... sometimes i am stubbornly sure of my everlasting fucking love for you. how can it go away? how can i deny it? how can we? you are not dead, just away. just not for me, now. how can we not say, ok this was not the way for our souls to live togheter... let's try something else. NO demolition time. We're not suppose to be. You are a NIGHTMARE!!! sometimes i think that you think of my life as a sucking shit, it's really not. i live. quietly. swedish ways...