Sömnens befrielse. Lite till. Lite till. Inte alla dagar orkar jag. Det närmar sig. Katastrofens konkreta resultat närmar sig. För varje dag. Jag vill sova i min säng. Jag vill ligga här bland mina kuddar, under mitt täcke, i mitt hem. Jag vill fly in i sömnen. Lite till. Inte tänka för mycket. Inte tänka att för varje dag närmar sig katastrofen. Jag kan inte ligga här när de nya ägarna ska flytta in. Jag kan inte hävda att det är mitt hem, att det är här jag ska leva. Var ska jag ta vägen? Magasinering. But I have signed a contract. No food, no animals, no people may be stored in the magazine.
I want to run under the clouds and shout at the sky. But who would run after me? I would do it secretly. No one would notice. How can you then expect something.
Do not think too much while I try to sleep a little more. Stop the anxiety. Breathe. Breathe. Think about what KBT-maria says. There is no point in worrying in advance. Sömnens befrielse. But the sounds are getting more and more outside. The only way to move forward is to work. Work that should be done now. Sömnens befrielse. Let me sink into it. Stun me with sleep. Nej, not again, not this spring with. This spring must be constructive, even up from the bottom. Last spring I lay in his bed and waited from morning to night, stunned me with sleep that did not give rest, but that was the only possibility. Waited, worried, until I heard the key in the lock ” Hello Darling!” and I knew I had made it through that day. Because I was suddenly blessed with luck. The man under the stars came, a man who held me in his arms. De finns. De finns. He came without knowing my great loneliness and he stopped.
But I can no longer escape to sleep. Not this spring. This spring must be constructive. Last spring was a shock. Several shocks. Den ena efter den andra. If I could not lie in my girlfriend's arms – what had happened? I was dizzy when I got up, Lost balance, spear. He held me. Had I ever been able to believe that such a consolation existed? Nej.
Now is now.
The cat moans in my ear. He's hungry. I find a summer dress in the piles to be packed. Wearing it helps. Constantly stop the monster. The monster in the form of the anxiety that is the destroyer's work. Someone has called a hidden number. Who is it? More and more often. I do not answer. The destroyer always called with a hidden number. It can 't be him. But I do not answer.
Yesterday I forced myself over the barrier. Took the bull by the horns and picked up moving boxes. The cat became even happier. So many boxes to jump into and happily look out of. And so many fun piles to lie in ambush behind. A little cat. A little creature. So much power it gives. Laughter just when you thought you were going to cry. Beauty.
A pair of cabinets, a bookshelf unpacked. All winter clothes. For storage. For storage. My home for storage. My work, my diaries, traces of my history, the imprints of my dreams. My furniture, things I love, things I care about. The home the children shared with me. The home I would receive them in. Work in.
I peel off. One fear after another is incorporated into my being. And at the same time everything is peeled off. When everything you have been afraid of becomes reality. Smaller and smaller games. Less and less expectations. Less and less detours. Although homelessness is a pretty big detour. But purely human, directly. Who should I pretend to be?? Who should I put any hope on? Nej. The illusions are gone. The truth. We only have ourselves.
Others carry us, love us maybe, supports us. Without that death. Every day I thank those who are devoted to me, those who let me into their warmth, those that remind me of who I am.
A new day. Breathe. The heart hurts so much. The body is scared. Breathe. Everything is a question of interpretation. I'm liberated. There is always more power left. Livet, stripped, appears in its holiest light.
It is also a truth. Only I could make my heart stop hurting.
