Somehow…
“I have lost myself
somehow
somewhere
one day
maybe night
I do not remember when and where
I just feel it…
emptiness
not getting what is in and out.
I have lost myself.
It could not be long time ago
I still remember this comfiness of knowing my moves
of knowing my likes and what I detest
I remember, though…
I have lost myself.
And I am not sure if finding me
is possible…
I do not even know
if I care.” Ch.J.
I am truly, always surprised when people say they were bored waiting for something/someone…
To be honest, when you wait for a ferry in Ystad, there is a lot to look on…
Especially when the sun is setting.
And that awesome Cracovia comes…
I mean really, check all Polferries ferries… oh my, I rhymed. LOL
But when you finally get over that tones of metal are floating… on the sea…
Not sinking…
Yeah, maybe better not think about it before journey. Truly… though I am always on my sea sick pills, sooo… I so not care… about a lot.
But look… the fence, freedom of the sea…
True metaphor.
Metaphor of now…
And how we all feel…
A witch…
“She is singing now,
not the best voice
it doesn’t even rhymes
though deal with it…
better if she’s singing,
be scared when a witch is silent…
and when she mumbles, just
do not run…
it is over
it is done…
So let her sing, it means she is hurt
she never sings because of happiness
she is whispers when okay
never happy
never glad
never like you get it
never for you
never…
She is singing to be left alone.
She is loud to mark the territory
to inform you she knows.
It is not the time to come…
but the time to gather thoughts.
Better do it now.
Though maybe…
it is
already
too late…” Ch.J.
It is a bit fascinating how the other side of the coast is similar to ours…
I mean part between Ystad and Kivik.
It is just so similar. Even those trees speak so familiar.
And those waves…
And sand…
And leaves and air…
I love the coast.
Its calming vibes…
Somehow living close to the sea…
Seeing it every day… makes you somehow… being on vacation all the time. I mean truly. All the time.
Though you still work.
But the feeling is here.
And saltiness… everywhere!!!
And here and there…
I could walk around here all the day…
And another day, and another.
Did not even touch the surrounding hills, beaches, coast…
Notice all those bits… which make me smile.
Or intrigue…
Or just… notice them. The famous red…
Yummy…
And then Ystad…
Yeah…
I prefer always staying in the woods or on a beach. Not in the restaurants even if it is allowed…
Always can have a quick dip…
LOL
And when I am there…
“I am never alone.
I see this what is unseen for many
and feel what is so untouchable
and breath, finally normally
and can spread my wings, and clean them up
and of course my tail
and hoofs…
and horns, them especially.
And I am myself.
And when someone sees me,
will notice only a weird, talking to herself,
short female with a bear
with a crow above the trees
a woman hiding, because she does not want to talk
to this what is
obvious…
What always is
never understands
never opens up.
But when they do not notice me,
my wings spread more and I
am dancing between the trees.
Dancing, because only I know the steps.
Only I…
In the forest.
It is true me, when I leave that dark path
you will see my messy hair,
maybe a pine cone in my hands
maybe a branch, feather
or most probably…
nothing.
In the forest…” Ch. J.
Nope.
Old me, old tracks… and them still watching me… Crows, normal, hares… yeah and bears, though they from spirit land.
Everywhere.
Even here, in not my land, though, the one calling me often… still, Kivik, Sweden.
Between the one who knew the pirates.
Maybe I should become a pirate this year?
I mean real one.
Why not?
Though… not a traveling one…
So what?
Wooden stump and bad teeth?
Well… at least I know where is the real one pirates’ road/street.
At least.
Though, still no tavern…
Or at least liquor shop. Come on, I can not be sober!
Right?
I mean really…
Truly…
How is it to become a pirate? Except the melody from the movie with Jack Sparrow?
Except…
What is holy?
What is not? A man with hair never been cut, a fat pastor, priest, huge car etc… to be honest, what is holy…
For me, weird things. Places where vibes are sympathetic.
Or maybe a house…
Or a plant, pieces of branch, a stone…
Found bit of nobody knows what it is… but I want it. For me it can be everything. And books, and standing stones and archeology… yeah, it is holy for me.
Somehow.
Or maybe for me HOLY means totally something different.
Maybe he knew what holy is?
A sculpture of…
Well… pirate.
The true one. Fritiof Nilsson Piraten (“the Pirate”)… a very charismatic being from Nils Fritiof Adam Nilsson books… a lawyer who preferred to write books. Imagine this… but this is how the sea, the holiest of the holy… changes people.
And yes, the sea here…
It was different. Much more full of those creatures which are a bit scary…
Smelled like apples too.
Early, amazing apples.
And of course this is Sweden…
The red is a must.
Same as blue and yellow.
Here everything is so full of those colors…
So full.
And tiny messages, to always hold on, though also…
Check what you are holding…
Always.
Because the piece you are tight to… may be a bit broke already.
May be…
And…
“… winds are howling
winds are dancing
whispering and feasting
everywhere bouncing…
if they get her
she would be theirs
open and naked
from here to there
covered in whispers
stories
fairytales…
those which are
untold
too long
too real
too most
for present people
bored easily with it all…
this is why she stays at home
to not be taken
though sometimes…
she just fly
let them take care
from this and now
from this and here
to be exchange for someone’s
dreams…” Ch. J.
