Starving and without coffee I am diverted by alternatives and decisions. I make it sound like a bad thing when it is not.

I am addicted to songs that sing of heartbreaks! Who is not? Love is blind, Lovin' that man of mine, Silly habits ... So I went on listening and humming the melodies into my heart. "Stars they come and go ..."

There is a mark for this day when I struggle to be alone.

I love my grey and white polka-dotted viscose scarf - so light and airy, yet warm around the neck. The air that surrounds is cooling and emancipating, and it helps one to ghastly grapple over the concept that our society slaughters hope. The flu numbers has reached 300 in Sweden and predicted to hype this autumn. Municipalities are encouraged to bring forth their contingency plans for influenza epidemic, and call in their key personnel who are on summer breaks. But summer holidays are far too precious and impermanent to be called off (especially in the Nordics). Summer for me has for the first time done a fly-by in quick staccato steps. My confidence is over-shadowed by confusion. There is no clarity. At least I am genuine in acknowledging this delirious constipation.

The silence is excruciating. At the same time, I feel somewhat more alive and waiting for things to get better around every corner. With a heart on my nose, the balancing act is sticky business.

Chewing over what you might ask? Chewing over if there is zest for life or not I I guess. Eavesdropping upon mainstream media for inspiration to write; plagiarizing that is morphed into words borrowing - all that just to keep on the endless journey of the written word that would rinse my mind clean of distorted images which are high accomplices to vanity, idolatry, lust, greed ... . I feel a wave similar to the infamous Protestant Reformation that tried to rid false doctrines and malpractices within the church (leading to, amongst others, Iconoclasm, Greek for "image-breaking").

or listen: http://profile.imeem.com/LIXkM/music/PXuEJ1ct/yi_nen_jing/

A room a space a river
Lengthening through my mindscape
Stretching across like waves
Murals and ruins; lights and buildings
Integrating into our habitat

We linger, inhale and transcend
Through the functions and forms
Selectively filtering between the beautiful and the foul

Each city with its own flavour and dialect
And we are just strangers passing through, dreaming on …

There are footprints in the heights of snow, fireworks in competition with other fireworks, and champagne bubbling in stomachs as an aftermath. Laleh is singing right now in English, in Swedish, and in Arabic. Tucked away in the darkness of isolating Sweden, I have changed and there is resistance to change.

2005 have been lost under my blanket of poor-memory. I am suspicious that subconscious suppression has got something to do with this. Too much has happened perhaps, or maybe I have just been struggling too hard. I am also suspicious that I am getting old, or some devious monster is sucking away my ability to live and remember .

Have you ever look at the assortment of clothes hangers that accumulate around in our habitat? It can be a pretty astounding collection. There is so much I wish I could do - sorting out these hangers and finding some order, or replace them with one homogenous kind or theme. But I cannot accomplish them all since I am being meticulous about something that is in a sense rather pointless. Imagine the energy I spent, doing such activities.

The new year holds the promise of improvement and stability. Most of all I wish for fun and excitement. A great price when one grows up is that ones individuality gets compromised. We stop exploring, sharing, expressing and caring. It is very sad thing to loose our fabulous self to the quiet and the mundane.

Enya Lyrics - Aniron Lyrics

O môr henion i dhû:
Ely siriar, êl síla
Ai! Aníron Undomiel

Tiro! Êl eria e môr
I 'lir en êl luitha 'uren.
Ai! Aníron.....

From darkness I understand the night
dreams flow, a star shines
Ah! I desire Evenstar

Look! A star rises out of the darkness
The song of the star enchants my heart
Ah! I desire

Bitter coffee … Perhaps I can begin to tell you some intimate details
Because my heart is so cold of gold
The bitter lights rhyme with the drunkard songs
The damnation of human life
Could not be relieved by ancient minds
And red roses are just blood staining our innocence and softness

Nothing can survive … Oh bitter sweet white roses
How did I come to find salvation in your softness
and now live dying in your concreteness

The gardens of yesterdays
The running wild and free days
The madness in my head
Can only be deciphered by you
But you are no where to be found
So close and yet so far away
… I am fading
like black coffee
like red roses

We never ceased to be alone
Even if the net of love has been cast upon us and around us
Our souls are lusting for the ultimate companionship that can never be found in the mundane
We need to be forever lost in translation
Forever romanced by the extraordinary
We conceive in the milky ways of deceptions and lies
We find truth in deceptions and lies
We are happy to indulge in deceptions and lies
The reality of bitter coffee and sweet roses and built upon deceptions and lies
There is no departure from deceptions and lies

Raging dragons spitting out flames of fire
Creepy spiders spinning gallons of venom and saliva
Greedy leprechauns waiting at the ends of rainbows
Fearful human deprived of perfectly synthesized realities
The loss of colours, fantasy, imagination and energy,
buried underneath an urban emptiness and the evil evolution of progress
The death of a brilliant mind, in the overflow of deceptions and lies
…maybe you will wake me up again when you realise
… farewell and goodbye roses
(…blue heart red eyes and white roses)
goodbye before we let the unbelievable romance drown our innocence

Your dating personality profile: Liberal - Politics matters to you, and you aren't afraid to share your left-leaning views. You would never be caught voting for a conservative candidate. Sensual - You are not particularly shy when it comes to your sexuality. You know what you like and do not feel inhibited. Funny - You laugh often. People never accuse you of lacking a sense of humor. You don't take yourself too seriously.

Your date match profile: Funny - You consider a good sense of humor a major necessity in a date. If his jokes make you laugh, he has won your heart. Practical - You are drawn to people who are sensible and smart. Flashy, materialistic people turn you off. You appreciate the simpler side of living. Intellectual - You seek out intelligence. Idle chit-chat is not what you are after. You prefer your date who can stimulate your mind.

Your Top Ten Traits 1. Liberal 2. Sensual 3. Funny 4. Adventurous 5. Shy 6. Big-Hearted 7. Romantic 8. Intellectual 9. Wealthy/Ambitious 10. Stylish

Your Top Ten Match Traits 1. Funny 2. Practical 3. Intellectual 4. Conservative 5. Adventurous 6. Sensual 7. Athletic 8. Romantic 9. Religious 10. Outgoing

Take the Online Dating Profile Quiz at Dating Diversions

:: The elegy

The earth is quiet, quieter than the day before
Its soil rusting with iron, rusting like a heartbeat (of an elephant)
Debts written off; grief written off
The postcards sat unsent, one after another
Roots. What roots?
Self-proclamation – undone in a split moment

The rain misty and moist in the autumn
is undulating and late for irrigation
Crops are sitting and sighing
Unable to grow; unable to die
Their pain sealed swiftly by cross-county trains
Crossing bridges, breaking souls
My vengeance, my sweet vengeance,
was to write these words I did not know

The night and its creatures, went and came
like peacocks racing grounds
The forest that goes around
sends whispers that echoes with silence, with stride
I amended my contingence, for my love was clenched by clattering teeth
My wounds were left to you to heal
And now your wounds bite me in the cold

There were songs we used to sing
and places we used to go
The million acetates
Warming my senses
Breaking the tenses

The love, sweet love and matrimony
Alien to its inhabitants
Light years in shipbuilding
Strength, mediated strength
Summoned for battles; plunged to depth
Confusion, convolutions – make them cease

The storm. Is it over?
Holding hands, riding on waves of love and prayers
Promises, anxiety – adamant and lurid

:: 29 Sep, Thursday, 6pm
In the world where medicine strive over human suffering (at times) there is morphine to take away the pain.

Is there some unseen reasons why one has to / is forced to take a leap (drabbas) into illness? Or is it simply just bad luck that has to be delivered to disturb human bliss/ blissful times? The irony in all this is that it has to happen during this period – one week from Kim’s 30th birthday; right after Kim stops work; right when things are turning (turning point) for the better or for the worse.
But now, we are to focus solely on Kim getting better.

:: 29 Sep, Thursday, 8pm
The diagnosis is complete – TBE with brain inflammation. I know too little now to foresee and comprehend the effects and after-effects. I am worried about the recovery process – esp. whether it is full recovery. It has been too much medication since we came back to Sweden. I wonder for a moment or two if it has anything to do with our lives interweaving. There is some superstitious thinking that I cannot constrain.

I sit here, in the calm and comfort of Kim’s wardroom – all is quiet and peaceful except for Kim’s snoring and my hungry stomach’s protesting growl. At first it was strange sitting here because it provided me hints that I have yet entered another stage in life. Looking at the man that has been almost my everything for the last one two years, lying there in a hospital bed, I cannot help but get a little touchy on the common events of being with one another through sickness and health. From grandparents, to parents, to husband… I felt aloof to this new stage, this new independence of marriage-hood. Yet, I know I must get stronger.

:: 30 Sep, Friday
Weak weak be cry cry …

:: 1 Oct, Saturday, am
Only been 2 days and it feels like ages. It downed upon me now that crisis can break or make a person. Recalling the tsunami period early this year where a hot discussion arose about the tsunami being God’s doing or not, and if yes – the big WHY followed. I related, unexpectedly, to the bigger picture/ theory of universal behaviours/ cycles. Can crisis be there so as to remind us, move us, motivate us, enlighten us…?

Facts: news report on ……

On Thursday night I was broken after reading more about TBE virus and its consequences. Adrian responded and I shared, analysed and clarified my thoughts, impulses and feelings. It was the ‘alarm stage’ whereby the brain processes worst scenarios, in shock, in agony, in guilt, in grief…

On Friday the sadness and shock was probably sitting nervously on the edges of the mind trying not to tip over. I was sensitive and negative, dealing with the shock. Here are some things I remember running across my mind:

• If it is long-term, the thought of staying on in Sweden frightens me, depresses me
• If it is long-term, the energy needed to fight recovery, disability… worries me, aches me
• The ‘lesser’ Kim grieves me. He is so perfect. I don’t want to lose him, miss him
• The irony that this illness’s post-syndromes are so alike/ matching to some difficulties he is already experiencing e.g. concentration problems, cognitive problems …
• So intelligent he is! must this be lost?
• I have to strong and stronger to be there for Kim, and strongest to cope with more things in life without his help e.g. financial, society… Can I?
• Bringing people closer…

Today, first thing when I woke up, there was the closeness to tearing. But I put out the urge to get all emotional. The last two days were so intense and I fought so much against myself for answers and clarifications. I couldn’t do anything else but thinking and being emotional. I believed I needed that, but I also needed positivism and strength.

:: 1 Oct, Saturday, 3.30pm
A lot was given, specially today. Christine’s call, friends’ and relatives’ support. A belongingness is growing, I must say, for this foreign country.

Feet to feet sleeping – a night (first night) of hospital coupling. Did not know why I stayed, night was more or less calm and controlled.

:: 2 Oct, Sunday
Morphine 5 am
Morphine 11 am
The morning was blessed with a delicate surprise
Kept mostly out of sight and out of mind

Feet to head sleeping – second night of hospital coupling. Night was chaos and messy with medication inefficiency and ineffectiveness. I was glad I stayed.

:: 3 Oct, Monday
15.00 to 16.30 – Elizabeth gave Kim’s test results as affirmative TBE. Goal was to go home by 6/10 if kim can reduce reliance on morphine and move on to tablets only.
17.00 to 17.30 – Nurse Jonna was doing a good job and conveyed that medicine and timing be more fixed and controlled.
19.30 – Wanted to leave with Kuba and Natta but Kim was so unconscious I couldn’t wake him up to say goodbye… so I stay a little longer…
20.30 – Went to Cin Pyng’s apartment this evening and slept relatively well and deep.

:: 4 Oct, Tuesday
Rose early and reached hospital 7am
Kim’s negativism and ‘nightmare’ …
Doc. Elizabeth’s advice versus my deepest instincts
Meeting maria
Rushing back upon Kim’s plea: "Please … do you have … the mood… to come down….?"

:: 10 Oct, Monday, 2am
.... Yesterday and today, he experienced his headaches and eyes-aches coming back. The trouble with brain
inflammation injuries (hjärninflammtion skador) are that they are hidden/ intangible, so the patient and people around him tends to think he is not sick anymore, which is NOT TRUE.

I want right now than to focus on his condition. Enough nutrients and fluid, his rest, his exercises, positive thoughts, no stress, helping him (and ppl around him) to understanding his brain-injuries/ damages
(avoid anxiety) etc... these are my concerns right now. When he is strong, me is strong too....

Thank you for all your praýers and support that pulled us through

p.s. a very detailed site here, if you are interested, about his possible injuries and recovery care...
http://www.encephalitis.info/Recovery/Guidelines.html

The September month promises rain and darkness, and on the very first hours I find myself staying up to inspect the beginning of the season.

My heart and mind is emptied by the bleakness of ambition and esteem. Stark and empty,
I feel terrorized inside out most of the time, unable to find myself. I have been rid of my masks and costumes of pretences. Naked like a newborn, I can only feel like a stranger to my infant-like occupation.

I know I am ready for the new chapter, but I do not know what to write in this new chapter. The theme and content of my new book is still an unsolvable mystery to me.

My tail of arrogance has diminished closed to disappearance. But the monstrosity of this orbiting wait for my destiny is driving my motivation and confidence thin. Is this all that is meant to be? Can there be no better placement for this anguished me?

The weather is strangely cold and without the buoyancy of the howling wind. Autumn promises change, I am bewildered and hopeful, for no obvious reasons other than my obvious emptiness.

note:
career talking

Drenched in a coat of black, her identity was muffled. There was nothing human walking inside those clothes of hatred. The girl from the beginning disappeared with her adult years, and a kind of robotic shadow has taken over, walking in the history of its creator. The love from the beginning has been dyed black, a convenient colour that disregards all that is warm and hurts.

People often think that black gives strength even though the truth is not so far away. Black is evil and what is evil gives strength. There is nothing else to hide from when one baths in evil.

The city was black in her sights and it was soothing that way. Strength giving almost, to feel that the city and her is one. She saw the bad in everything and she was comforted that way. Night and day did not matter. There were no dialogs inside her either. She was her own keeper, guardian and angel.

The time was 5pm when she entered the train. There was nothing delightful and the hours and minutes did not matter. She was determined to disregard herself and let the shadows take over. There was no destination chosen. She was to obey the shadows.

There were people around her, folks going about their errands and businesses, but she never regarded them as flesh and blood. She could feel no warmth and could see no expressions. Some would gossip about her and sometimes isolate her. They could not see her shadow-keepers but they felt the distance and creepiness. It was normal for her to see people congregate against her. She was different, one way or another.

The Arizona River was rising above its low-tidal benchmark. At half past five she needed no food intake like others. The shadows fed her with emptiness and she was nourished that way. Emptiness kept her alive; it was her way of living. Time did not matter now. Shadows are timeless. Time stopped ticking for her the day she wrote her last words the remained forgotten in a spiral-bound booklet with brownish pages:

"Words drowned in my heads alongside twisted dreams.
I had no control over both dreams and life.
It was such a time - I wanted... no control."
- Summer, 20050809

notes:
A morbid personification of the coldness of our modernized and industrialized society comes through the character named Summer. A discerning story that could resemble someone you meet in your everyday life, but you were too much in a rush and pre-occupied to reach out and touch him or her.

This work has been commissioned for inclusion in Finlandia's Pure Emotion exhibition at Proud (Stables Market, Chalk Farm Road), Camden, 10-21 September 2008. Also featured in Noise.

personal notes:
Sweden is quiet and calm, and I have great distance when it comes to interaction with others. It is an stay-indoors country and nature is allowed to run wild without much human interference. There is monologues at times. Other times only emptiness could be felt. I was drained, not from the hectic colourful activities, but from the grey and black solemn where people do not seem to talk and communicate openly and heartily. There are no dreams, vulnerabilities and idiosyncrasies to be shown or seen. Everyone tries to form a blanket of clones.

Maybe going away and coming back will make me more aware and Sweden and its spikes, so I can pinpoint what pricks me and changes me.

The trip back lasted only 3 week, complexed by my urgency to get back to Sweden. In the full rush, I did managed to meet up with quite many, and for that I am glad. We all have our own pot of bittersweet honey to digest. Some talk, some rather not, some write, some just keep up the smiles ...


:: Nomadic sadness

Sad stories, monstrously confined to a city,
consuming the habitants
and eventually fading into recovery,
to be mostly forgotten, revisited at times

The lives that are not mine
are songs written down, so that
we may one day fall in love with them
and learn them profusely

Sad stories, once told,
are sad stories written down to be retold, relived
Sad people, consuming sad stories,
finding unrequited relief in the nomadic transmission of sad stories

PARTI
The river runs riverwild, my heart is longing after you, tracing your lashes like music while you take a dive into lush. Hush babie, brace the world like poetry and let your dreams run wild, river wild, while I trace our dreams in the shadow and the enclave of your wilful heart.

PARTII
The night is slow and languish, flowing like the langage of love, love for friends n distant places. I hide in those places until you bring me back to the old, the traditional, the revolutional.

You bring me back to you, to us. With a mirage, my night invaded your space. 6K miles apart, 6K watts closer still. The maples in your village drapes over my concrete city, the language of love was meant to be, tonight I glide in the milky riverwide, to reach over and hold you.

这个世界也太复杂了。看着月亮底下的风景是一片迷茫，心中的风景更是残缺灰暗。忘不了的事不断浮现，而我尽然无话可说。

'går och lägg dig', "beautiful", sexual fantasy, 50-50 milk orange juice, warm salami cheese sandwich, 'stark' coffee, evil=live; 'gud'='dug'; 'bra'='arb', delirious mood, avoiding work, ladybird umbrella, rainy splats, wet suede shoes, blue toes, no more bugging kimmie, john nash (john nash and alicia nash remarried in 2001 after 4 decades of paper divorce)...

note: hollywood's version (beautiful mind movie): "It's only in the mysterious equations of love, that logic can be found...you are all my reasons"

Primary VALS type: Innovators (formerly Actualizers)

Innovators are successful, sophisticated, take-charge people with high self-esteem. Because they have such abundant resources, they exhibit all three primary motivations in varying degrees. They are change leaders and are the most receptive to new ideas and technologies. Innovators are very active consumers, and their purchases reflect cultivated tastes for upscale, niche products and services.

Image is important to Innovators, not as evidence of status or power but as an expression of their taste, independence, and personality. Innovators are among the established and emerging leaders in business and government, yet they continue to seek challenges. Their lives are characterized by variety. Their possessions and recreation reflect a cultivated taste for the finer things in life.


Secondary VALS type: Achievers

Motivated by the desire for achievement, Achievers have goal-oriented lifestyles and a deep commitment to career and family. Their social lives reflect this focus and are structured around family, their place of worship, and work. Achievers live conventional lives, are politically conservative, and respect authority and the status quo. They value consensus, predictability, and stability over risk, intimacy, and self-discovery.

With many wants and needs, Achievers are active in the consumer marketplace. Image is important to Achievers; they favor established, prestige products and services that demonstrate success to their peers. Because of their busy lives, they are often interested in a variety of time-saving devices.

Here's where you go to take the survey: http://www.sric-bi.com/VALS/presurvey.shtml