onsdag 10. november 2010

Øyeblikk

Jeg ser på deg, og du ser på meg.
Vi ser på hverandre.
Livet, realiteten, er uten spesialeffekter - jeg ser ikke, jeg bare føler, bølgene av følelser som krysser hverandre.
Jeg rekker likevel tenke: Øynene har i mange kulturer blitt ansett som vinduer til sjelen, og herrejesus i himmelen: Vinduet mitt står åpent, hengslene er av, hemningene er så vidt der enda, og når denne hendelsen er over..
var det kanskje ikke bare et sekund; Var det to?
..later jeg som ingenting.

Stille gleder jeg meg allerede til neste gang.

_______________________________

I look at you, and you look back at me.
We're gazing into each others eyes.
Life, reality, is without special effects; No VFX, or added contrast - I don't see, only feel, the waves of emotion crossing between us.
And i think: Eyes has in many cultures through history been considered to be window into the human soul, vision being the primary of senses, and the mind, thoughts, right behind it. Is my window not now unhinged, the glass shattered,  the content pouring out, and my every thought visible to this person looking straight into me?

When you again look away ...
was it a second? Was it a year?
... I stop holding my breath, pretend casual; And with my silenced cheer is already longing for it to happen again.

tirsdag 9. november 2010

Finaly

When she began working at the hospital, she was afraid of getting to much responsebility. But now the tables where turned, and she became encreasingly frustrated along with the growing amount of stress this particular night had at hand. This night wasn't the first she'd experienced, but this time people she was able to take care of had to wait longer than necessary while she still had to assist. The choirs she was given, was sometimes riddiculous. She was even trained for operating open flesh wounds, and had courses in more severe wounds, but now she had to get towels and pills. She deserved more credit than this, and after finding the head doctor of tonight to confront him with these thoughts, her appetite for acknowledge was quenched.
She had to take care of operating hall 5. The place where people at medium risk was sendt. This was perhaps a bit more that she was going to ask for, but maybe she could use this oppertunety to show herself.
The hard studying of being a doctor to help those in great need of it, had not given the time to make many friends. And as the reason of making this choice of career was the death of both parents in a climbing-accident - of witch they now would have recovered if taken propper care of - she did not have anyone other than her much beloved, and therefore fat cat in her life. But now she was finaly employed here, and without any intentions of leaving soon, she feelt confident time would give her friends, and possibly other forms of close human contact. There hadn't been any form of depression in her along these long days, or longer nights, alone in the little appartment. But now the need of emotions for humans, both as separates and as a species, had to become more practical, and less theoretical.
Fifteen minuttes later, her joy of giving life to an old man was a long wanted feeling. The man had a great blood loss, but was luckily found by his daughter and grandson dropping by for a visit. The man had been lying a whole night alone, bleeding, and would not have managed another day without the propper care.
But he was saved. She had saved him, cleaned the wounds, stopped the bleeding, and given him adrenaline and blood enough for the wonderfull human body to fix itself over time, and regain perfection.

Love Differences 4

As she approached her exhusband, to pick up their son, she tought back to the times they shared together before. Of course it could never be the same, or anything like it. And she would never admit to him how much she missed having another person to care for.
And to be cared by.
Besides, she was afraid much of the emotions she felt, was because they shared a child together, and therefore couldn't get out of their lives and forget what had been. It was a comfort to know they where friends, however. At least for the sake of the boy. She herself ha not had the luxury of even knowing of both parents, as her father had vanished shortly after she was born. She did still have contact with the ex-husbands father though, dispite the fact of him not liking it. His father was alone after loosing his wive. A loss she couldn't imagine. The death happened three years ago, and sadly had it's impact on the relationship of her and her ex.
Their kid had never got to know his grandmother very well, making it easy for him to accept it, but for his father it was a sad feeling not to share the wounderfull person his grandmother was.
This was not the fact that had ruined the marriage however. It was his short period of execive drinking that had broke them apart, and lack of love that had not brought them together again.
She pushed all of these toughts away when she saw the best thing in her life, aged at 8, running toward her. It was only a week since he was dropped by his father, and this was no special pick up. Yet they both came together in a huge long lasting hug. She held him tight in her arms, both smiling of joy.

Finaly.

Love Differences 3

Yet another scream was heard, and the old man was kind of glad he wasn't arruosed anymore of hearing another couple make love nearby. Or anything else for that matter. If so, the neighbour and his new girlfriend would have kept him awake several nights in a row now, loud as they where.
No, at this age, he thought to himself, only real love can get me up and going.
He smiled, and thought on about his great loss three years ago. Seemed like then.
A milage can be rough, he wispered, well knowing of how senile he appered to be to his kids talking to himself. But it didn't matter, since the relationship was as steriotypical as it could be. They never saw him anymore. The only odd thing was that he couldn't care for the lack of love they showed, just knowing they actualy still did. And that they would indeed miss him when he passed away, and probably regret not paying more attention, wisiting more often, and call more.
Maybe i aught to write that down on a note, he thought out loud, already on his way to the kitchen. For the sake of peace when i die. The latter, he did not say out loud, but he heard the last word echoing in his mind, as another scream from the other side of the wall echoed in his ears. He lost his balance for a minutte, filled with these sounds, and grabbed on to the first thing his hand found. Unfortunatly, seventysix years earlier when he got a little wound on his knee, playing with some other kids, he discovered the reaction he had to blood.
He still had that reaction, and realising he had grabbed the knives hanging from over the stove, he just stood still for a minutte, not looking on his hand.
He felt after any pain, but knew his sences was a bit blurry with the years, and that the shock would have delayed the pain for a little time. By now he felt an imense amount of stress, and had to sit down. With his hand held behind him, he walked slowly to the livingroom, and fell into the couch. The world swurrled in front of him, his head was incredably heavy, and he felt tired.
At the finger roots, he could see some white bone. Two of the fingers had deep cuts on three places, and the blood was pumping with the beat of his pulse. He knew a second before he fainted he was going to bleed to death, as none would miss him in a few day. But there was no sad old man that lost conciousness. He saw his loved one in the end of the light, waving at him.

Finaly.

Love Differences 2

When they heard the scream, the stopped kissing, paused the movie they didn't watch, and opened the window to look. As there where only the empty street on the other side of the window, they both turn back to eachother, and after a few smiles, kisses, and teasingly touches, the living room became as empty as the streets outside.
The bedroom, on the other hand, became full of life. Even a new one, although they wouldn't know of it for months.

Finaly.

Love Differences 1

The gentle temptation of sensuality and another person showing emotions for you had taken her over. She finaly said yes to let him follow her home. It was not out of fear she didn't want him to know where she lived earlier, if not for the fear of crossing the line with him. Perhaps this time she got a small hope of him choosing her over his wife.
They slowly, hand in hand, arrived the door that had a postbox that said her name in fine hand-wrote letters. She knew he would ask to follow her inside. She knew she couldn't say no to him, even tough she didn't want him to. The pressure of the situation was disgusting to her, just like he himself had been sometimes. Still, she knew he would never get entirely out of her life. If she didn't move away or anything other radical. And she had played with the tought before, but was enough self-aware to know the whole ting would never be put into life.
"Could i follow you inside" He asked.
"No" She said to him, still softly
In her mind...
In real life, she didn't really answer. Just opened the door. And took a deep breath before entering.
"If you're the angel you seemingly appear to be, i'm still surprised you fell so accuratly into my life." He was of course making a compliment, but it made her close her eyes.
In shame. In regret. In endless disqust of the life she was stuck in.
She didn't turn to him and give him the fake thankfull smile like she used to, but instead told him, in the loudest scream she had made for years, to go to hell, leave her (the fuck) alone, and then broke down and cried.

Finaly.

fredag 1. oktober 2010

Skole og utdanning

Dette fant jeg som utkast her på bloggen. Det er skrevet 05.03.09, som nærmer seg å bli to år siden. Men det er like relevant nå?


Jeg trenger jo litt utdanning, jeg som oppfører meg så udannet. Men når man sjekker div skole-nettsider, fordi man lurer på noe ganske enkelt, finner man egentlig bare mange flere spørsmål.
Så da ringer man. Hører rundt.
ALLE sier forskjellige ting. Det virker gudhjælpemeg som om det å samle inn og finne ut informasjon er del av pensum. Eller en test på om man er verdig skoleplass.

Jeg syns det var stress nok å prøve å få tak i en plan på hva jeg ville gjøre ut av meg. Så skal det være helt sirkus for å finne ut hva man burde søke for å få komme seg den retninga. Og til slutt kommer det en bonus på at det er langt fra sikert at man kommer inn.
Jeez!