severed limbs along the railroad

persuaded by insanity
the x at the corner of all things

how to recognize passion
choke on a pint of liquid books

sober and bored
got to stay stuffed

everybody laughs, nothing is real
being social feels like work

trust is blindness
the stench of future slaughter



(an edited version of previous texts which has now become lyrics)

needs make us needy

hurling towards extinction

the chance at life is lost on us

fighting over the remains

clear visions of oblivion

clogged wormholes

carbon wasteland

the endless stench of bullshit

all is gold

until you look for it

trial and error

banks without locks

crawling out of corners

the pattern of logic

has become random

absent without leave

everyone is biased by everything.

i hated one show at the bukta festival. and, i appeared to be lonely in that opinion. war on drugs did deliver, somehow, yet did nothing to meet my expectations. i stood there wondering (since i haven't listen much to them at all, only heard stories of those who had), is this band overhyped? why were my expectations so high? why can't they meet them? and why the fuck is there a saxophone-player on stage if i can't bloody hear the fucker? the sound-mixing was godawful to my ears. way too much bass from the drums and, duh, the bass-guitar, thus making the songs appear way too monotonous. way too subtle vocals, they got blurred out and i weren't able to pick out any lyrics. way too early in the day. they played at 17:30. it was impossible for me to enjoy the show. which pretty much infuriated anybody i talked to about it. i thought it sucked, everyone else though it was the most brilliant thing ever to happen at this festival. or to their life or something. whatever! the feeling i was left with went in a lot of directions. am i wrong or am i just a horrible person for thinking and then saying it sucked? etc.

even though i verbalized my reasonings, the enthusiasm people tried to communicate suffered a quick yet horrible death when facing me.

i've noticed a trend. i know absolutely nothing about music anymore since i can't concentrate or bother to remember/categorize whatever i might do research on, yet i'm quick to utter my quasi-opinions on whatever band people claim they like. why? what the fuck has happened. i've just devolved into a complete douche and i have absolutely nothing to back it up with, apart from the obvious constipation.

"oh you like *that band*, you think they're great and are going to their gig next week? well ENJOY, they SUCK and i feel sorry for you!" pretty much sums up every conversation i've had about music in general these days. unless they talk about a band i actually like. then i'm all pink and pretty and overly spastic in my halfwitted attempt to describe what i think i think.

this worries me. this trend is absurd. i've gone from being well knowledgeable and rather pleasant in discussions about music to be 'that guy' who put an immediate end to everything by storming ahead with an underdeveloped so-called opinion, which only causes anyones respect for me to plummet into a rapid extinction since i won't quit. a hateful crank. that's what i am. (or maybe just overfed and sick since i go to a lot of concerts)

i also hated dropkick murphys. they live well and somewhat prosper by making songs for rednecks who think a cheap, overdone imitation of keltic music and the irish pub-culture is cool. only because gimmicks sell in the us of a shitpile. we only need one of those bands, and flogging molly does the best job turning imported keltic influences into punk. but what do i know, i'm just a wannabe poser.

and don't even get me started on imperial state electric.. since i left the concert after being tortured by them for three songs or more. i don't even know. they all sounded the same. and they all sounded like the first page in a book of cliches issued on the first day of any course in "how to be a pleaser for crowds who think they like rock-music!" i know that the main guy in the band has a shit ton of merits on his resume, but that does not mean his pet-project of the moment is a heavenly compilation of well-crafted originality that really hits home on a deeper level than "look how shiny and oversized my hat is, look how many faces i can make during a performance and look how loud i have to yell." bitch please, go jerk off in your wardrobe and stop annoying us. grin grin grin gimmick gimmick gimmick and a me that gets physically ill from standing anywhere near the reach of their immense need to make the crowd dance euphorically.

and... the worst band i've ever had to endure a concert with. the notoriously shaite skambankt. luckily i'm out of words to describe how much i hate them at this point, so i'll just trust that mentioning the name will repulse accordingly.


sorry.
sorry sorry sorry.

signed
sorry

other than that, the festival was incredibly awesome. a decent special brew for the occasion on draft, a beautiful outdoors environment, free dried cod if you were willing to hammer it edible by yourself and an otherwise stunning lineup. how can you go wrong with names like gallows, mastodon, spidergawd, pentagram, opeth, patti smith, the bronx and even mari boine. holy utter mindfuck done exactly right.

equivocate

fathom bomb
a doctor who somkes

climbing ladders just to get elsewhere
the probability of failure or success

there's no stopping
round shapes are fundamentally natural
circles, cycles, eyeballs, planets

i'm all done, nothing more to write
this was once a genuine need, now it's only faulty drivel to pass time
it gives me excuses to hate myself even more
a cancer
every word is forced these days
don't mark them
cancer, pus, residue
dead moths
an ego so big that the world's in orbit around it

yes, we're all lucky to be alive
but happiness is only found at the end of hard work
it's a job



all this drama
all for nothing

there's a switch

that turns itself on
i do not know where it's located
but when off,
i spend all my time trying to locate that switch
which sends me straight into outer space

i'm obviously not in the cockpit
instead, prescribe me drugs mixed in a cocktail

drinking under the influence of chaos

are you depressed? yes.

are you lonely? i don't know.

do you believe life is more? i think that i think so.

are you happy with this situation? sometimes i couldn't ask for more, sometimes i'm so happy i could die without any regrets about it.

do you realise it's not constructive? by all means, yes. absolutely. it's the only indication that i'm not full-blown crazy. but, even though i know it's bad, most of the time i long for destruction.

do you cry a lot? from time to time, that's all i do. until i just can't anymore.

do you wish you had done things differently? with every cell and fibre of my being of every second of every day, yes. who doesn't.

do you feel like a weird individual? not anymore. i get shaky when my blood-sugar is off, does that count?

do you appreciate the same things you used to? no. not in the same way. i just know deep down that i once had some feelings about the subject in question.

are you more subjective than objective? i'm not the one to answer that question.

do you care a lot about the impression you make or leave? well.

have you ever been in love? many times. but i'm unable to maintain any other relationship than that i have with my disorders, since they are hard to get away from. like a marriage when divorce had yet to be invented.

do you think you are or will be significant in any way? no, my logic tells me that's irrational. the human race is due to be wiped out at some point, so why bother with legacy.

are we more than molecules and atoms cooperating? duh. we only think we are something special when they're imbalanced.

do you have a problem with the saying 'everyone's a critic'? i'm torn. i know i am a critic, but what does that even mean? everybody might be wrong, and at most times, they sure are. so which critic should we listen to since everyone is one. i think you should listen to yourself - we're all just shooting our own feet at any given moment. mass-suggestion is still a problem, even though we live in the age of the ultimate democracy, namely the internet. läser man en tidning får man för sig att dom vet vad som står på.

do you drink too much? yes. and it's not nearly enough.

do you think you're too smart for your own good? sometimes, yes. which means i'm not.

do you believe in the easy way out? i believe it's only a default-mode.

what describes who you want to be? delusions.

do you believe in coincidences and do you claim to 'feel' them coming on? i believe in calculation, logic and rational thinking. if you see a pattern, subconsciously or consciously, you base your calculations upon them, and that's why coincidences seemingly appear. you expect them, and if that expectation is met, it's no longer a coincidence. i think a lot of people are confused on this subject. as to wether i can feel them or not. that is a matter of the separation between the subconscious and the conscious level. feelings are not irrational. i believe in them on a rational level, which makes my feelings variably relevant, if you understand where i'm going with that. i could explain, perhaps. or maybe not. feelings are difficult to comprehend. i just don't truly know where the line is drawn between them and rational thinking, because i don't think that line even exists. we are under their influence all the time. every other claim is a lie. most people just put way too much emphasis on their first conclusion, often derived from these so-called feelings that appear. the rational, nor the irrational, does not end where feelings begin. i hope, to the extent of being desperate, that most people would be able to think/feel for a bit longer instead of grabbing a hold on to the first feeling/thought they experience. you can rationalize feelings, and you can feel the rational. that's my answer, i guess. but everyone's a critic and i might be wrong. i don't even cite any references. these are just my thoughts, which may very well be insanely irrational. i'm fully aware of that. which thus inclines me to not believe anything at all. but what am i without belief? i must then ask.

what is cosmos to you? war against everybody and their ideas.

i would also like to add - i regret that mood has such an impact on how we perceive things. what we say and do is ultimately motivated by the chemistry in our brains. mood is who we are in a certain moment, and it changes constantly. mood is not absolutely everything, but it manipulates us a great deal.

what do you think about what others think? i think that i should think less about it. rumors spread too easily and i don't ever want to be part of that aspect of our world. i've never been much fond of them. ever. rumors make or break you. simply put, you are nothing more than your rumor. which is one of our great downfalls as a race, if and since you asked me.

what are your reflections around what you spend your energy on? all or nothing. again, it boils down to mood. substances. we humans might believe we're powerful, but. substances has the power. molecules that fit in a specific receptor. we depend on them, they define everything. might i add, they're also perceived as god in a way too great lot of individuals.

do you believe in anything? alcohol.

is loud music okay? only when you are or have the need to be alone.

the brain looks like a cloud and mine feels like one too

i'm terrible at goodbyes. so terrible, i often don't even want to say hello.
breaking up a visit or meeting always feels so awkward and unnatural, especially when it doesn't have a real, specific ending to it.
this can actually be the sole reason why i prefer to stay alone at home an entire evening.


what the actual butt mind fuck.

and in an instance, everything changes forever.
after an incidence, nothing shall remain the same.

a different hue, a new smell, a recurring thought
how long can just a little last

being exhausted is exhausting

my therapist asked me "what about now? what if you were to go do something very social, how would you react?"
i replied "i'd desperately want and try my hardest to get back home again."

then i went to the apartment, for which i never pay rent, slept half an hour and decided to go back out again. it went horribly. i drained the energy of everyone around me by being incredibly depressed and suddenly felt the urge to kill myself. as always. wanting to cry so bad, i sort of collapsed on the floor downstairs and covered my face whilst trying to think about something else.


at least my answer was correct.

belief is everyones drug of choice

i'm bipolar and will go on a trial of medication for it in about a months time

your life is more important if you hang out with people who publish a lot of pictures on facebook

someone actually lay plans and execute the performance of strobes during concerts

the expression "too smart for your own good" exists

depressed people have a more realistic view of themselves and the world than these so-called normal ones do

more often than not people simply don't care 

and pay a lot less attention to you than commonly believed

we're a byproduct of evolution 

which also is the answer to every problem in life

we can all just go fuck ourselves 

at least, that's what i do

i care about making people believe i don't care

there's a truth that's certain. i have a lot of shitty days. so many of which spent in isolation, terrified of despair and collapse. i hide and rot. completely alone, with thoughts no one deserves to hear or be a part of.
it's therefore safer to ignore the world outside of these walls. i manage to keep calm and stay somewhat collected when i don't have to consider the well-being of others. if i were to go out when in an awful shape, the depression gets worse. ten thousand times over or more.
sadly enough, it's a well researched theory that's so close to being a fact, i might very well call it exactly that.
i shouldn't be out amongst people in an attempt to have what is considered a good time when in a completely useless mood. it's disturbing for all of us, i get a lot of awkward questions and looks, and say many an awful thing in order to maintain a distance from further destruction.
this does not make much sense at all. but the truth remains the same. i'm better off left alone. because showing off how incredibly nasty i can be serves nobody.

volume speaks titles

i really don't understand anything

noise everywhere

event horizon
it's as if a spell was carved into my bones
getting to know it doesn't seem to help
everything is lost on me
helpless little creature
beyond the badlands
shy away from the sun
wasted, hollow
nothing new to swallow
a half-wit in the pine-trees
and a lesson that's too hard to learn
pointing out the point of no return
sacred envelope
scared cutthroat
it won't melt
refuse to fuse
claws to pick your teeth clean
a dragon
with hummingbird wings

in another dimension
people ask you what kind of shit you'd prefer tomorrow,
instead of "what would you like for dinner tonight"

coming home soon
leave the beans on
coming home soon
please do the dishes for me
please do the housework
please leave no remains
of whatever impulse you had
please, squeaky clean, please
because what i need is more accepted and therefore more important
any sudden guest must not see the reality of me and us
our lives is a lie
but white is a nice touch
so we painted it all over our walls, thoughts and actions
come in come in
batter for battering
raisins for creativity
nutmeg as a secret
chopping skills
right temperature, right phrases uttered
look at our new curtains, look at our new rug
impressively platonic and idiomatic

needs, deeds and perfection
no flies
no germs
no life
nothing is nothing
nothing doesn't exist anymore
but we still feel the urge to escape it
nothingness

life is just an endless cycle of needs to satisfy


since it's always so little about what you say, but rather about how you say it, do the same means apply to music? is music how you say things? i for one hate to take music literally. i prefer to listen to how it changes me. what it awakes within. so, music, is it just a body language we respond to?
seems like a fair claim, after all. when we speak with someone on the phone, we're unable to see the persons body language, but a lot of it also comes from the voice. the tones of it. you can easily hear what state a person is in.
music is communication. music is how you say things. because it's easy to tell lies if the receiver only care about the words used. yet, they're very easily deducted if you pay attention to the body language.

oh well. as always,
i'm probably wrong.

feeling special is normal

sober and bored, oh the agony

meeting new people
being drunk at fancy hotels

the taste of foreign decadence
wonderful wander in a parallel reality

aware of all the new facts and facets
who am i to ask questions
or respond to any notion about change

escape
mindscape
landscape

shallow breaths, fried brains
words become foggy

endless repeating of the known
since fear of fear is a drive

it's all in your blood

the oldest cooking-sauce on earth

before belong, behead

field interviews. what a glorious habit. what a brilliant idea.

you can learn a lot from most people when able to listen and ask the right questions.

somehow, hearing them talk makes information stick around. perhaps because you pay attention if you ask interesting questions and get interesting answers.

interest. always the key.

_
anger. one of the emotions that can be combated with a few steps back and reasoning.
same goes for jealousy. which others are there, that produces as much conflict and terror.
and yet, so easy to deal with if you manage to collect wit for a bit.

this is the hour with 3600 long seconds. on ne passe pas.
so much time given for a pause during deep breaths.
heave and leave be.
sometimes, the best reaction, is none at all.

such thoughts have crossed my mind frequently for a long time.
even though it is difficult to combat the reptilian brain.
to care is in fact a balancing act.


"don't trust anyone. life is safer that way."

cynicism armour. my amor.

what are impulses, if not right right away.
trust your gut, we're often told.
no. our gut spews shit that should be transported straight to the sewers.
left in a deep hole. also known as the sea.
from which we feed.
but at least it's been beating about in a cycle.
so what's not to want, what's not to trust.
how much of a fan are you.
importance. air. warm or cold wind. fan.
remember those days. those hours. when everything was right. you fought and won to keep it that way. for a day, an evening, half an hour or the duration of a certain song.
ah yes. those.

organ.


instead of believing you have to accept or refuse, be tolerant.

self-consciousness and anxiety are so similar.

the reason to be scared is an even better one to think.
your understanding of the world grows deeper as time pass.
all the levels of our society. awareness becomes knowledge.

the x at the corner of all things.
click it with your index finger.
who knows how much you know.
how many hours spent looking words up in a dictionary.
the historybook about you is a printed copy of your internet activities. published by google and facebook.

you get what you work for, not what you wish for. etc.

swallow. regergitate. entropy.

wake up scroll scroll scroll sleep

yes i'm a victim
insert motivational quote

labyrinth of stereotypes

now will soon start to seem like a long time ago

all the right answers for all the wrong reasons

welcome
well, come

comforts to take us through the day. the ones that you don't feel normal without.

don't question my motives, they are noble.
question my condition.

i know why it's hard to abandon an addiction.
because suddenly time stops. no hour drags as long as those where you try to keep clean.
you're not living. you're waiting. trying hard to post-pone the moment in which the overwhelming urge kicks in and you'll have to start from scratch the next day, week, month, year or even years.
it's practically inevitable. you WILL lose this battle against a habit that's settled in for a lifetime.
after all, it has brought a lot of baggage.
which makes it hard to move in any direction outside this jail that is your mind.

cannot connect, cannot disconnect

poetry for the eyes
my wounds heal quick
easily ignored scars

mindfuck chaos
no simple proper writing
processing is always difficult
when in a hurricane
of blurred out sentiments and thoughts


stay forever ignorant and naive
stay forever sick
the offices need profit

we could never be ourselves around that person

trust is blindness
current state of affairs
run over each other

as we toss, tare and tow
the wilderness within
opinions that matter
due to the way they're uttered

slow-paced
in a haze
nothing out of something
crawl back into the woods
because the tree's got arms enough
to stretch for whatever mile your problems last

there's an ache there's an itch
drown in pools of words and accusations

refund
bundle
cryptic
misery

feelings inside out
the stench from rotting flesh of future slaughter
feelings insight outlook
nothing but a highly suggestible cult

we may look alike

in and out of facts

all we ever did was to feast upon exploding stars

and suddenly we became

eroded fantasy

space travel is boring

where is my mind
i'm here to disappoint

mood-biased editing

innate

dinosaul

what are we doing here, why do we stay

slow snow falling

we're in the age of the great abyss
where plenty isn't enough

what you crave is what you get
the instant formula of the present

take one step back and you'll refuse to compute
the means are clear
what we seek is here

to evolve is to keep nothing sacred

i'm getting older
but my habits remain foggy
i'm not afraid to feel
but i still feel i should be

my life is a lie
so is yours

no chapter will ever end
what you begin is what you become

belief is a perspective
shed light upon the situation at hand
we're nothing, to be real

stuffed stuff
a sense of purpose
habitual vegetation
hands for no reason

the smell of tobacco
we yearn to be hooked
the fabricated escape
to an illusion we trust

home home home
what is it really
except for an accepted language
of the common

what feels real must be
greatness is the ultimate

posses a quantity of qualities
be a shoe-in for everything

everybody's gotta fit in
manipulated jigsaw life

free will
and the means thereof
doesn't exist
so welcome home
to the village of whatever

survival of the slickest

houses only house dead ends

mass suggestion in oslo spektrum

backspace history,
reenact its scrapyard

once and since

this image actually got me the nickname 'camera-terrorist'
so now you have to chose. are you with me or against me.

yoga mind tricks

as i think about how far i've come
how many days spent in the same manner

it's easy to realize, certain skills come in handy
as clouds clog your mind

what was once, will never come back

you're a piece of pulsating matter
moving through space in a fixated pace

as my hands come of age
as wrinkles gather across my biggest organ
my eyes observe an extension of the mind

barley between all the cells

got to
be
got to
go
got to become

got to go home

retreat as a treat

confined room
expanded gaze

we see nothing
but talk a lot about it


no. i'm not very refined

but who am i to blame
as i breathe toxic fumes

i want something different, something new

how to remain passionate
without telling anyone

all is gold until you start digging for it

racing with the sun

crawling in crowded spaces

your life is a lie

better heil saul

drink until the world comes alive

when driving through the states

that The Look