Lystmaler

Shadows, light, light sources, shadows moving around me. They can touch everything but not themselves, it's delightfully practical in some way. Maybe I should eat a frog and a fly for complete synchronization of my life triangle. Man eats frog, frog eats fly, fly eats man. It's stone, scissors and paper all over again, but stones, scissors and papers hardly taste good. Have you tried eating that stuff? Man, I have not. I've eaten paper, and long legged spider which I found on rocks, and I've sucked...

Help, help! I need a job you see. I've tried nothing, and I'm all out of options. What to do, what to do?

I could call in and complain about my handicapped toe, they're bound to give handicaps jobs. I could work as a chump in a yeti suit at the local supermarket, if they only were hiring that. But no, in these dark ages labour of my skill is rarely seen.
I seek no fancy job that evolved why not from the oldest job in history; I look for something with a steady income.
The...

[B]13'th of August, 2008.[/B]

The deception day.

I woke up 9, two hours later then normal. I was exhausted, the past night held little sleep, and I went to bed late after being unable to sleep. Waking up, I put together some breakfast and poured myself some coffee. My thoughts were evolving around a message I was given that turned my led into gold. Happy, I ate my breakfast while I enjoyed some Futurama that'd been downloaded to my computer, and continued to rejoice through...

[U]10'th of August, 2008.[/U]

Today's evening is reaching it's closure. 23:46, time for bed. I realise I have driving tomorrow morning and my drivers license at this point is urgent. I can't make more mistakes, I can't forget to turn up. I cant, just like I can't sleep just now even if I tried my hardest.

I forget life, pain, solitude and clutter. Moving has become my number one priority. You know how it feels?
A hole opens up a soft delicate door inside the inner...

While I've never been a big fan of poetry, I have been reading up on some lately to research a bit how their compositions are formed and the words are chosen.

The thing for me is that, Poetry express the feelings of the writer, not my own personal feelings. A lot of people will read one and feel as if it talks through them. For me, that never is the case. We are all different, and a poem describes the feelings of others. However in reading up on these poems, I stumbled on a piece of...