tirsdag 29. januar 2008

Whisky

3 ice cubes, some coke and a small shot of whisky. The smell and the taste. Memories. It feels like coming home. I feel warm. Relaxed. Maybe it’s slowly killing me. But if it is I don’t mind it much. At least not right now. Tomorrow morning is something else. I’ll be hurting when I wake up on the floor. But I’ll be over it by noon.

City’s still alive beneath my window. I see people. I wonder if they know that I’m watching them. And if people are ever watching me like this when I’m out wandering the streets at night. I hope they are.

The ice cubes have all melted. I can’t help but wonder why such a cold drink can make you feel so warm inside.

My glass is empty.

fredag 18. januar 2008

Rain

Rain. Feels cold but refreshing at the same time as it hits my face. A person is walking towards me. We both look down on the ground as we pass by each other. Maybe I missed something really important by not looking at that face. Maybe it was the face I’ve been looking for since forever. A face that you just know the instant you look at it, is what you have been looking for. That one person who is going to understand what you’re all about.

But I don’t look up, because I’m afraid. Afraid of what I’ll see and what that other person is going to see. What if he can see my thoughts. What if he can discover my hidden feelings and emotions. What if it disgusts him. What if it scares him.

Sometimes other people scare me. Sometimes I look up and into another person’s eyes, and what I read in them are lust. The eyes are followed by a suggesting smile. It scares me and makes me angry at the same time. It’s not the fact of being wanted that is the bad part. It’s the fact that they don’t really want me. They want something I can give them. Something they can get from any woman. My special person is going to be somebody who wants me for something that he only can get from me.