THE WALLS THAT CLOSE ME IN.
The official doves, for I love them. The official ladies in the corner.
The official Eleven Eleven Fortysix.
The official swallows escaping from birdcage..
The official wall of Nothings.
The two official things I look at before I leave my room.
The schedule and the best friend.
On my walls..
I also have a photo of me with a thought bubble that says 'zzzz' in it.
A The Tough Alliance poster, even if it is not mine.
A note which says "I am as fake as you pretend to be".
One picture of my cat.
A drawing of a seal in a swimsuit.
And I have a drawing of a dead bird and a dead pike.
A mirror too, and Spongebob.
How I am when you are around.
Ad for MAC
And you can search and you can search and you can search, search around the world.
But you will never find, another girl.
I'm a personality pile.
I don't know my wrongs from my rights.
By Steven Meisel.
That is how I feel when I write.
That is how you should feel when you read.
How in my words she can mean one person, two
or it just might mean every female I have ever met.
How in my words he can be a person, or something I have only pondered.
A brainghost, a thought that seemed like reality.
He could be anyone, everyone or the one.
And if you feel bad about anything I ever wrote.
(Which was never my intention, truthfully.)
It really says more about you,
than it does about me. Right?
Hello. My name is Zahra.
And people run their mouths like they know me.
I can't sleep at night so I don't.
I was terrified of aliens until i turned 14-ish.
There is places I want to go.
There is people I want to meet.
There were times when I was convinced to save every animal on this planet.
There were more recent times when I realized that I couldn't do so on my own.
I am loud, I am aware of my high-pitched annoying voice.
I could save my breath, but what is the use?
Love a good conversation.
And a bad one, too.
There are places to which I went.
There are people whom which I have met.
I always have my guards up.
Do not trust people nearly as much as I know that I should.
I love the things that break my heart.
There's only been one episode,
but I'm clenching my fists,
waiting and wanting the next one.
Where is my right Mr. Wrong?
It kills to love that love that kills it
This song, I identify myself with it too much.
Why do I want you,
now that I can't have you?
Why didn't I just want you,
back when I had you, back when I had you?
Wasting all my money on Skittles.
The boy in the cashier at Weekday.
How five hours at times feel like ten minutes.
How I always break at least two things that I have bought,
how I never notice it before I am back home.
I miss the DJ's on the street, and the girl who secretly
drew a picture of me on the train.
I miss looking sceptical on pictures.
I want it so bad that I can feel it.
Surround me with nonsense please.
Please help me stop thinking.
Because if I am thinking I know that I am alive.
But when I know that I am alive,
I am thinking too much.
I saw the most adorable old man some days ago, on my way to school.
He was joyful and he smiled at me right before a crossing.
Even if there was no cars as far as I could see, he stopped.
And so did I. Only because he did. The light was red.
It would feel arrogant not to stop, I stood right beside him.
He touched the button and the light turned green, instantly.
He looked at me, smiling, and said "Aren't we lucky, today?".
I could not help but to smile.
And I smiled, all the way to school.
I just could not wipe it off.
And I am usually scared of elderly.
How if your birthday is on the 24th of July, that would be awesome.
For then you could say "It's my birthday 24/7".
And it would be true.
Now that I've figured that out, I wish my birthday was moved a month.
But I guess you can't have it all.
By Miss Kika.
So everyone would have something to read while making #2.
I dreamt about furniture.
My apartment was all.. see-through.
Tables of glass, see-through (of course).
Down comforters in a see-through material,
so you could see all the tiny feathers that make you warm.
A flat screen TV and only the screen was noticeable.
The doors where in coloured glass though.
So you couldn't really see through.
Like that glass some people have in the front doors of their detached houses.
Where you can see the contours of people.
I want a pet dove. And a huge vintage birdcage.
I promise never to clip her/his wings.
It'll be my precious.
But I love you too.
But to me he was the world.
I still care for something that I should have stopped caring about.
When I see him I'm still running out of air.
I know that my squares don't fit into his circles, but I still wish for them too.
He doesn't know of it, nor will he ever again.
I hate how my body is turning to complete shit.
How in the midst of angst and anxiety, I'm really just .. scared.
Hospitals in general just scare me, doctors, mood, smell.
I can't eat anymore, my stomach is constantly turning.
I can't sleep anymore, my head is constantly aching.
Something is wrong. I know something is wrong.
It's been wrong for a long time. I just do not dare to go.
It accured to me that all of my thoughts come to me in english.
It's just easier for me to write them down like this.
That is it basically, there is no long and interesting explanation..
I will carry the weight of the world on my shoulders until
I reach my own extinction. I hold the fate of countless lives in
my hands. Anesthetized by reality and numbed by what is unreal.
But I cannot see longer than what my eyes perceive. I cannot hear
longer than what my ears capture. I live the dreams of the other
ones either nightmares or fantasies. I am a creator and a destroyer.
Narcissistic, as my main routine, I often create demise and despair.
My work will consequence the ones who will take my place -
good or bad is my decision. My rise and my fall will never go unknown.
My atmosphere is to every creature always present, never far away.
I am mankind.
Yet again, Ken Rosenthal.
And the same reason for loving someone,
can at times be the same reason for hating someone.
Today I feel okay. Or tonight, I suppose.
I'm feeling foolish, and fooled.
But optimistic, and curious.
I don't know what to say anymore.
There's no words I dare to speak.
No letters I dare to write.
Never say that it is over, for there is always things waiting for you.
I was never a person to wait, I sure hope someone is.
And good things does come to me,
I just never realize it before it comes to an end.
Fate is of curious matter.
Maybe the persons you meet are only the sneaktip.
Points you in the right direction, without you knowing it.
It is sad when the whole world got their eyeballs in your keyhole.
I will never say anything dishonest.
For I am certain that I am a loyal person.
And if you are in it for the scoop, you might aswell get out.
There is nothing to find.
I'd lie if I'd say it wasn't making me a tad self-conscious.
I want to know who you are.
And why you only comment on my shitty entries.
Give it a try, inspire me with your thoughts.
Because when the shit hit the fan.
Everything I'm not, made me everything I am.
I will re-emerge and slap you in the fucking face.
And then you'll never see me again.
You'll never see me again.
Oh, how I wish to be heartless.
All I want is to screw you over.
Screw you over like you screwed me over.
And you'll bend over backwards to catch a glimpse of me.
But you'll never see me again.
Is it worth winning a battle if it means losing a friend?
Therefore I'll throw him back into the sea.
I hate never feeling good enough. Good enough like she.
Compared to she, I am simply Nothing.
The walk home from school felt like the longest walk in history.
Silent thoughts rising and falling, collapsing into each other and dying.
I wish I never met him.
I wish you never met him.
I wish everything I did was undone.
I hate this feeling, that grows inside of me like a black hole.
I knew the puzzles would fit like this.
In my head I thought better of everyone.
Troublesome how I always seem to get disappointed in the end.
And maybe this is just an ordinary day in my shitty life of disappointments.
I hate how even just seeing his name brings me to tears.
You are my finest hour and you are the sweetest pain.
I am not surprised that you don't understand how I feel about it all.
I never told. And I don't know if I should have told.
You are the only one who can break my heart and piece it back together.
Your deepest thoughts are safe with me, girl.
I will always value you.
I love you and you are my dearest friend.
Is this a dialogue or a monologue?
"How am I?"
"Fine you'd guess. Me?"
"You're great thanks.
What am I doing up this late?"
"Searching for some inspiration.
And how about me, what am I doing?"
"Uh, you don't even know."
"You're sorry, but you have to go."
"Okay. You'll see me."
"Yeah, bye dear."
Italian Vogue. I think Steven Meisel took the picture.
but you'd always wanna know what I was about.
When I was upset, I wish you'd never forget.
I wish that without me your heart would break.
I wish that without me you'd be spending the rest of your nights awake.
Yeah I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep.
Basically, I wish that you loved me.
(Kate Nash - The Nicest Thing)
Picture of Dev from Lightspeed Champion.
Probably from back in the Test Icicles days though.
I just love the picture, I've always kept it.
And there aint nobody who got it like you"
Last night I realized how horrible I am with taking compliments.
What I meant to say was "Thank you".
I'll close my eyes and disappear tonight.
"turn the bad in me into good again" - picture by me.
Therefore I will call this entry Death: Part Two.
Even though I don't think there is such a thing as a Part Two of Death.
Whenever you ask somebody what they think will happen after you die,
the respond is "everything will turn black, like it did before you where born".
When people put it out like that, I think about a little baby popping into
the world from a black hole in the immense universe.
To me it sounds like a pityful excuse for a reason, made to calm people down.
Let me take you back to before you where born, if you didn't know.
If everything happened backwards it would go a little something like this.
You would be unborn, lie in your mother's belly for 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0 months.
Two people would unsex eachother and you would be a sperm in your father's testicles.
But where does the I, become you.
Where does your consciense get created? Where does the you get put in just.. You?
Where is this black gap before life everybody keeps bringing up, where is all the Nothing?
Does anybody remember the time before you were born? Tell me all about it.
It would make the greatest novel. Or the worst.
Do we live in the womb or do we not? When does our lives really start?
Who decides? And who knows?
What if death is like birth, and we don't know what birth is like,
and we've been blind for it all this time.
I would feel like a sucker. I would.
Did you know that there is more people living now than the
amount that has died in all of mankind's history?
Death is an abstract topic. Interesting, of course.
It's not like abortion, movies, diet soda.
It's something that constantly surrounds us and has always surrounded us.
Even at the times when we weren't us.
All of humanbeing's ever lived, I think has discussed the topic: Death.
If we just were a little more like animals.
And lived in the presence.
I am certain that we would be happier that way.
Lectures are so predictable and cliché.
I'm not fond of hearing things that I've already heard,
in that educational way, like I've never heard it before.
I don't like when people talk to you about how you should be what you are,
when what they really want is you to be what they are.
It's funny how people can act so "natural" in the most unnatural ways.
By Ken Rosenthal, wonderful picture.
Last night I saw you in my dream.
And now I can't wait to fall asleep.
When all of the places we once called Something places,
turns into places of Nothing.
This is what we've come to know as Death.
Between Heaven and Hell, the common unknown knowledge of dying.
But what if,
what if we've been living in a Nothing place all of our lives,
and will be surrounded by Something's when the time has come.
An unavoidable topic for a humanbeing.
There is no point of realization in something so abstract and ungraspable as death.
I was never a big fan of surprises.
Lauren Brie from Americas Next Top Model.
For some reason I find this magical.
I wish she didn't get voted off.
Today, all of my reality feels surreal.
I want you to see the best there is in me.
I want you to see all the truth that you never see.
I shed every tear I thought I had.
I didn't even know I could.
I've forgotten how it feels like to cry.
That might sound like a good thing.
I'm not sure it is.
Disappointment #1: School.
Disappointment #2: Him.
Disappointment #3: Why you're not where I am.
When it comes down to love.
It bleeped but it wasn't you. So I fell asleep, luckless.
A boy named Gabriel Dimitri..
and I talked about albinos, and albino alligators.
I didn't even know they existed. But now I do.
Say Hello to Watson. Apparantly this alligator's first name. Haha.
I'm a Daughter of a Gun and you're the Son.
It gives me chills.
Why do I talk so different on the phone than in person?
What about when artists become actors and vice versa? Don't you hate it too?
New Years resolutions, who follows them anyway?
I'll throw in a quote from my favorite book.
"What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them,
and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers,
which could be in the pouches of our overalls? When you skateboarded
down the street at night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and they
could hear yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if
everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time, like how women
who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time, which
I know about, but don't really want to know about. That would be so weird,
except that the place in the hospital where babies are born would sound
like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn't have
had time to match up their heartbeats yet. And at the finish line at the end of
the New York City Marathon it would sound like war."
Jonathan Safran Foer from Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close.
You know those great books, that just come to you.
They find you, when you're at the least of interest.
This one did. I think it might become my favorite book ever. We'll see.
It's all a book should be: wonderful, tragic, sarcastic, dazzling, heartbreaking and happy.
I'm going to read all of his books from now on. Heck, I'm going to buy them too.
From somewhere in Copenhagen.
So why not do it here.
Cause we all know nobody actually cares about it, but me.
On my wrists I want two ribbons/bows that are tied up underneath.
Nothing Disney-ish just something really pretty and soft.
On my feet (which probably will be my favorite tattoos, if I get them done)
I want, on the right foot, a girl who's blowing a kiss.
Really flowy and natural/earthy and the kiss should be windy and followed to the next foot.
And on the left foot I want a boy who catches it, or a boy who gets it on the cheek and looks
embarrassed.And I want it to say "kisses blown are kisses wasted" on the back of my
I really want a chestpiece or a backpiece.
For a chestpiece I though about white doves flying together faced forward.
A blue/white tattoo, with a lot of motion and air, I want the feeling of movement.
It's that sort of tattoo that never gets old.
For a backpiece I thought about hunters.
You know those shields a hunter put up with animal (trophy)heads on the walls in their
houses? Ding. I want one of those, but with instead of an animal head on it, I want a
self portrait. With that empty zombie look in the eyes, and blood dripping from the mouth.
And I want some antlers. And a banner underneath that says "One of a kind catch"
or something like that.
On my hand I've thought about writing "Parle à ma main" for a long time.
Which is french for Talk To The Hand. Sleezy, cheesy, childish, juuuust like me.
I want something on the back of my thighs. I thought about ribbons there before I
thought about putting them on my wrists. But I really don't want anything that's a problem
with dresses and such. So maybe a text or something. I don't really know. I just think it's pretty.
Oh and I'm getting a brothernsister tattoo with my big brother.
A divided heart that comes together. I want it victorian styled, deep red.
All of these ideas will not get made, I am aware of that.
When he should be wrapped around your little finger.
When you're packing his suitcase, and he's already gone.
When it's only two minutes.
When it's always too late.
You're a 'No Smoking'-sign on my cigarette break.
You're the reason I stay up too late. You're why I bite my nails.
My dirty habit. Or at least you should be.
Admitting to my first entry, as the untrue blog-disliker I really am.
I don't kow how likely I am to pour my heart out on a blog.
But I'll try.