it’s in this kind of mornings
a little foggy
the clock is a little too late
my throat was loud
and alcohol in smoky bars
I sit undone in the kitchen in an oversized shirt
then it’s in this kind of mornings
that coffee is a yearning
a softly warm scent embracing my insides
bread is crunchy and plays music in my ears
in my mouth
unspoken words
wafting presences in my fears and in your stubbornness
and they press me down
down my body down the inner walls
grounded to the truth
that desiring isn’t allowed

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railway switch

A haze that makes it hard to get out of bed. A breakfast that is already too late and mornings that quickly become afternoons. Days that fly by without me being able to do even half of what I’d like to do. Feeling a bit unsatisfied, but pleasingly slow.
And then a kick from the cold on my way to the theatre, out of home for the first time of the day. Also pleasurable.


Of all the female sins, hunger is the least forgivable; hunger for anything, for food, sex, power, education, even love. If we have desires, we are expected to conceal them, to control them, to keep ourselves in check. We are supposed to be objects of desire, not desiring beings.

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if she wants to “catch” a man she must give every appearance of not wanting him, dropping his calls, not returning texts, playing “hard to get”. Real men don’t want women to want what they want; instead of a meeting of minds and squishy bits, sex is all about her submitting to his desires. Girls learn from their peers, from magazines and even from their mothers that they’ll never get a boyfriend if they dare express desire, let alone lust.

I feel spaced out. I don’t know what day it is and how long time has passed. I feel like it’s a dream and I will wake up and it will be all finished. This strange blur doesn’t want to lift. I can’t realized that it has really happened, I can’t fully understand. I can’t settle in the prospect of living my life without him. A life that will never be as happy as if he were still here. Why did this have to happen to me? Why do I have to go through this? I can’t help but ask life.

Life is bad.
Falling in love is bad and dangerous.
Men don’t fall in love.
I should never trust anyone.


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the end

I’ve been away from here. A lot. Probably there aren’t really excuses, but I’m using all my energies to focus on myself and on surviving, and that was a reason good enough to take a break. And figure out what really happened.
I’ve hit the bottom and I’ve hurt myself quite badly. The loss of the person I loved like never before, so important in my life, is a big loss to mourn. He’s still healthy and around, close and beautiful, but he’s gone. And on top of that he caused a lot of huge extra pains I have to handle. It’s a lot to process.
I’m abandoned and abused.
I know that even if it seems impossible, final, unimaginable, at some point it will pass. I hope so. I hope I will be taken and loved again, and I will be able to love again. But now it doesn’t matter that/if it will pass. For now it’s the worst thing I ever had to cope with and it’s so difficult and sometimes I doubt that I will make it through it. This thing has a devastating effect on my life, it makes me suffer enormously and it’s real. I need people around me not to underestimate it, to acknowledge, recognize and respect my pain.
It will take me quite a long time to get back up on my feet. I’m really badly broken.
It’s my whole life that’s falling apart, all the dreams and plans. And there’s plenty of nostalgia too. I don’t know how we could arrive here. He had given me so much love and appreciation. And now this.


I wonder how I can ever trust anyone again, after the person who was closest to me, that loved me and I loved, treated me like this.
He leaves me to pay the price of his emotional mess and issues and insecurities.
How can it be all lost?
I’m so hurt. An unbelievable amount of pain. He took my life away from me. My whole life, all the plans and wishes and things I invested in are crumbling down, destroyed. I feel like I’m dying. I need to “stop existing” for a while, forget about all of this, forget about myself.
I can’t believe that this is happening to me. It can’t be true. After all the amazing love that there was between us! So unfair. Unjustified.
He hasn’t done physical violence to me, but what he has done is violence (emotional violence?). And emotional pain is real pain. To threaten someone with loss of love is a far more profound and painful violence than some people think.
I’m angry if he’s also part of this capitalistic/consumerist world that sees love as a good to use and then throw away when it’s outdated. There are anyways more fishes in the sea to catch, that’s the thought.
He wants love but can’t work for it; when it gets too close or too real he runs away. He wants to be swept-off his feet by feelings, but does not lose balance, never actually falls in it, stays on his own instead. He’s been so little emotionally available. So badly in touch with his own emotions and unable to name them.

I’m in an enormous amount of pain. I have never experienced such a strong pain before. And his missing is so burning and so scary. I panic. I don’t know if I can make it through it. I am so scared for the future. I don’t want to live this life with this pain, and without him.
The crying comes in the middle of any random activity. Sometimes I wake up and realize I’m crying. I cry everyday. Sometimes a few tears. Sometimes I have to stop, sit down and sob with the face in my hands. I cry everywhere. On the phone at work in cafés in the metro in medborgarplatsen on the way home on the bike talking to my neighbours at the pizzeria with friends etc. I feel as if pieces of flesh are constantly torn off my inside. I’m exhausted. I’m not quite myself anymore. He killed me.
Plus, I miss him a lot because he’s great, even though he fucked up big time with me.



Si sentì come se fosse la fine del mondo, come se non ci fosse più nulla, nè notte nè giorno, nè caldo nè freddo, nè risate nè gioia. e il suo posto era quello. Il nulla.

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I want to go full on into my sexuality, indulge in it. I want sex to be very present in my Daphne-Kladis-4life. I feel comfortable.
It is a really big part of my persona and I want to enjoy it to its maximum.
But I also want to stay the light, delicate, sensitive, shy girl that I am. I don’t want to push sexuality in the only way it is thought to be in our society.
I want the two things to go hand in hand, coexist.

the generation that grew up in this notionally oversexed world still has next to no idea how to fuck. […]
yet, with all this hyperabundance of information, with all these learning tools at our disposal, we have somehow managed to raise yet another generation that remains as ignorant and confused as ever about that most intimate of mysteries, human sexuality. […] It happened because adults in this culture persist seeing their own sexuality as monstrous, as terrifying and compelling and disgusting, rather than as a normal part of human development.

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switch off

I’m 26 today and I’m really broken.
I’m 26 and I don’t think I’ve ever been hurt so much, so badly.
Yes, I’ve been hurt, offended, heartbroken before; and it was hard and sometimes it lasted very very long until I could live fully again. But now it’s much worse. It’s final and it’s blowing up my whole existence and my wish to continue here this life.
I’m 26 and I’m as grounded, as stable and as sure as ever. Sure of what I want and who I want to be. And I was joyful, I experienced the most profound and surprised happiness. I know how that is. But now it’s all broken and I’m grounded but devastated.
Abused. Mistreated.
And I feel all alone against this. Me and the disappointment. Me and the anger. Me and the egoism.
I’m 26 and it’s been a few birthdays now without any presents.
I’m 26 today and I’m beautiful. I know I’m amazing and worthy, and just need to be picked up. In the right way.

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Maybe men don’t fall in love.
It’s all a lie of movies and songs. Probably I’ve never met a man who was in love, or talked about love for real. I don’t like generalizations and I thought some were different, but apparently not: men are not able to get attached, build connections, enjoy the idea of committing to something or someone and let that grow; they only follow raw instincts and use whoever they seem to need at the moment. Completely unable to feel a connection and care for another person, who becomes important and central and precious. Until that moment is gone. Their selfish needs always come first and are the only things that matter. Lonely wolves, who can only create distance and through that distance connect to the world.
I’m a bit disillusioned. Or maybe I really do have a deep and special way of loving.

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