Pinterest Inspiration as of Lately Pt. 4
Tag Archives: inspiration
Deep and inspirational
Today is another monday. Go kick its ass. (…)
.Journal Page of the Day.3/3.
.Journal Page of the Day.2/3.
The Change
Nothing ever changes but I always feel like I have to be going.
Move on, get better, take steps and make sure that they’re showing.
But I am still myself.
I like abstract ideas more than I like reality.
Not as much how things actually are – but in my head – how they’re supposed to be.
When I look out at my imagined timeline I see an open future of daydreams and hope, but I don’t think about the fact that I’d have to carry myself there, like a backpack of stones,
I’d have to bring these spinning atoms, these empty doubts, these worn out bones.
I am still myself.
Sometimes I manage to get rid of it all,
all the fear and failure, every sadness, every fall
I rinse it away with new water, leave it behind in black footprints that I forget even were mine,
but then I learn the same things every time.
And in between I hide in the songs that make me wish you’d pity me,
I shut myself in and dream of being seen.
I’ll glare at you but you won’t see it because in comparison to my heart my voice will always be lesser,
because I am a hopeless people pleaser and I walk in pink hair and cute dresses.
And that’s the drawn out prelude of the end, because I am a ticking bomb,
but it’s all internal so it will never unfold.
I just have an itching soul with nowhere to explode.
I’ll slam my fists against stone cold floors because you were supposed to make me better.
You were supposed to fix me.
If you want me. You better make me better.
Still. After this, after all. I am still myself.
If you want to know why I run like this
It’s because I have fear dripping out through my fingertips.
All Good Things Are Wild and Free
I stayed behind yesterday. We went downtown to have a photoshoot and I stayed when my friends went back. I walked around in that detached-from-reality kind of way and looked at how the city I stay in looks like a postcard. Clear skies and shiny metal buildings and palms and palms and palms, sun that makes your face melt off.
Then I sat down on the rocks and was happy.
And this might sound sad, but I loved going to a sea that wasn’t full of memories. In Sweden it’s tiny towns and cozy houses and driftwood, people with wrinkles too deep, an ocean that slowly breaks everything. Here everything just is. No childhood memories. Just sturdy rocks and people dancing.
The bridge before I ran over it.
The bridge after I ran over it, resting on a bench in the shade. My face was so red people gave me worried glances when they saw me.
My postcard wish is that you don’t send me home.
(Also, backstage from the photoshoot..:
wow)
Mini Moleskine
My pocket moleskine, and what I’ve filled it with so far:
2016.01.01 Message to Myself
Stop being scared. Stop that subconscious second guessing when you freeze and walk around and just let your thoughts crawl around like ants but never becoming something. Stop being indecisive because you’re not at a creative peak. You don’t feel it. Sit down. Do it anyway. Remember this, remember this, even though I know you won’t, even though I know I’ll have to write it again, a hundred times a hundred ways, all through life reminding you of what you know, repeating what’s been said, don’t you know it’s all we are? Don’t you know it’s all we do? So if you choose, and get to do so, so if you create and corrupt and empty your veins and pour
then you’re one of those repeaters. Say it until you listen. Say it until the world listens. And then say it again.
You Will Get What You Want
And you can call that karma or a result of good goal setting or the grace of God, but that desire inside will claw at you until it gets out, you will fail and fall but the itch in your guts won’t stop and so you’ll continue.
The problem is that you have to really want it. Do you want that body more than you want a relaxed day in from of the computer? Do you want to write or do you just want something written to brag about? Do you actually want to be successful or do you just want the money that follows? Humans are passionate creatures, and we pour water to build our waves of success until they become uncontrollable and break and drag you with them, but you have to get there. You have to know that you will let go of it, but then you will come back, because you have no choice. You will get what you really want, you will get results in whatever it is that your inner being can’t stop doing, can’t stop being.
Zambia Travel Diary – Day 12
2015.19.21 11.16 I don’t feel a lot about leaving. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’m so inspired for the rest of my life to continue, inspiration usually comes after travel, but maybe because I’ve been here so long, it has already managed to sink in.
15.30 This is not sad, because this is not going home, it’s travelling to yet another place and then you go somewhere else from there.
16.04 I’ve never been interested in finding myself, I think while on the bathroom at Lusaka airport. If I was, I think airports would be a good place to look.
Anyway.
I read about bicycling in the magazine on the plane, and while sitting here it makes me want to be on a bike instead, inhaling fresh air, seeing bright colours and feeling my muscles work. I want to travel by my own strength. Maybe not far, but at least a walk through the woods when I get home.
20.50 At the airport in Addis Ababa. It’s a good one. If I were to travel the world I think I’d like it here. It’s not too big, but not small enough to not feel international. People of different cultures everywhere, the most beautiful Ethiopian scarves in the gift shops and a prayer room at the end of the corridor. The cafés are crowded as well, and they remind me of how the streets outside might be (not as if I know that) with traditional coffee making and people laughing.
Also they have these chairs everywhere that you can lean back in so they become almost like beds. When we finally found an unoccupied one (and now we found two more) I left my bags there and went to look around. I must have looked a bit strange. With no luggage, taking really slow steps and just walking around looking with a blank expression and soul far away in some way, while still being very present, maybe the deepest form of present, because I’m aware that I am. And maybe the least deep form. Then again, no one was probably looking at me.
I’ve been living in that good place in my head ever since I saw The Secret Life of Walter Mitty and it changed me in the way good art does. It was beautiful, and inspiring, and maybe actually the sort of thing you should watch before you travel, and I knew of it because of a song from the soundtrack that my dance group danced to once. In the movie they played it during the credits and I just leaned back and listened to it while the lights of Addis Ababa closed in underneath our wings. White lights from buildings and yellow from the vein-like streets. Yes.
eirians 